#im being a freak tonight sorry everyone

[nessberry]

kainess is so cannibalism as a symbol of all consuming love

[rafesweetie]

⋆˚࿔ the way 𝜗𝜚 ˚⋆ — jj maybank and pogue!princess!reader

“ you a princess to the public, but a freak when it’s time, “

cw ; making out, reader tries to go further, ‘mama’ and ‘princess’ nickname, drunk!reader.

jj had bought the hot tub a year ago, during a moment of rage and upset, and he thought the pogues would instantly return his reckless decision and get the restitution money back — news flash, he was wrong.

there have been many parties in the fun hot tub, getting drunk and splashing around with the pogues, tonight was no different. it started out normal and fun, sipping drinks and giggling and talking about stuff that would make no sense to a sober person. then kie and pope left to have some ‘alone time.’

“oh my god, jj, you know what that means right?” you giggling, sipping your vodka pink lemonade.

“what, mama?” he knows what, he’s just entertaining you because you’re cute when you’re drunk — not like he’d ever admit to thinking that.

“means theyre gonna go do it,” john b even laughs at that, which makes you laugh more. “thought you liked her, jayj,” you say after the giggles stop.

“who? kie?” he asks, faking obliviosness.

“mhm,”

he shakes his head. “nah. no, she’s all pope’s. plus, shes like, a bop, always going after another guy,”

“ew, jj, don’t say bop,” john b cringes.

“then who do you like?” you ask, too drunk to care that you’re prying.

“can’t tell you that, ‘s a secret,”

“jayj, thats no fun!” you pout, gently pushing his bicep which makes him laugh. “just tell me, probably won’t even remember tomorrow,”

“yeah yeah. maybe later,”

sarah whispers something to john b and he makes up some shitty excuse and leaves.

“dunno why everyone is hooking up,” you say. “‘s dumb, don’t like being the only single one,”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m single too, mama, y’not the only one, i feel you,”

“yeah, but you like someone. you always get who you like, it’s how you work,”

“what, and you don’t? huh? remember in sophomore year when you kissed topper thornton because you had that kook phase?”

“it was a peck, we didn’t even make out,” you argue. “never made out with anyone before,” you murmur under your breath.

his eyebrows furrow. sorry, did he hear you right? “what?” he asks, implying that you repeat yourself louder.

“i’ve never made out with anyone before.” you admit a bit louder.

“c’mooon,” he takes a sip of his beer. “that’s not true. you’re drunk, stop lying,”

“m’not lying!”

the water moves as he gets a bit closer to you. “y/n, im 100% sure you’re lying. i mean come on, you’re the prettiest girl on the island, you’ve even got kooks, like — rafe cameron type shit — going after you. and you’ve never made out with someone?”

you splash him with the hot water. “stop rubbing it in,”

“hey hey, not trying to be mean, mama,”

“just because you’re always making out with girls doesnt mean that everyone does. you’re a player,” the insult is obviously not said seriously.

“hey, i ain’t a player, i just..” you roll your eyes. “you’re gross,” you say, but you’re back to smiling.

“i could always help you out. i mean cmon, it would be fun, having someone you’re close to being your first. not some random kook,”

“what do you mean?”

“i’m just saying that if you need it, i got it. i got it everyday.”

so you’re not exactly sure when you ended up on your best friend’s lap, but you really like it. being on top of jj maybank, the cutest surfer and pogue in town, a literal light in the OBX. you’re having fun, giggling between kisses when he says something silly or gets dramatic when you nip his lower lip. it’s like he’s putting on a show to make you more comfortable. your hand is tracing his abs underneath the water, feeling him up, your other hand on his shoulder. his hands are everywhere — like, literally everywhere your pink bikini doesn’t cover. it’s clear he’s been wanting to do this for a while.

you two take breaks to have a sip of your drinks and get more drunk and have more fun. he tries a sip of your vodka lemonade and cringes at the sweetness, and you giggling and kiss him again. your lipgloss is making his lips and neck and jaw all sticky. he wonders where you got so good at this.

you go to feel him through his swim trunks, and he stops you, grabbing your poorly polished hand. “what?” you ask, smiling dropping.

“hey, c’mon, don’t wanna steal all your firsts in one night,” he squeezes your waist.

“when did you become responsible?”

“since now.”

you groan. “but i love the way you make me feel. do you not like me like that?”

“hey, princess, i got some feelings for you i’m not gonna get bored of. but let’s take it slow for me too, mkay mama? so it’ll be a first for me too.”

with that, you nod and go back to kiss him.

[jadeshifting]

i want to shift tonight but i literally haven’t legitimately tried in years. honestly i just want the freaking accomplishment of TRYING at least

if you could give me the most simple mundane steps to even get close to like a relaxation state or feel any symptoms, that would be literally perfect because im a train wreck and i can’t handle complicated instructions

with love,

aves

MY LOVEEE AVES sorry i didn’t get to this until right now, i’m not sure if our time zones are different but i wish i could’ve helped you last night, when you sent this ask i was drunk and eating a gyro on a sidewalk 😔

i completely understand where you’re coming from !! i feel like i have my nighttime routine pretty down, so i’d be happy to give u my lil routine, BUT a couple disclaimers first:

— you don’t need any routine to shift !! sources like early shifttok kept trying to brainrot everyone into thinking they had to do their skincare, clean their room, do their homework, drink a gallon of water, etc etc etc before bed in order to shift. that’s dumb, ignore everyone who said that

— i totally get what you mean when you say you haven’t legitimately tried in years. i fall victim constantly to the “don’t try at all to avoid the disappointment of ‘failure’”, like if i make no attempt at all, then i didn’t fail at anything when i wake up in my CR in the morning

the way i got past this was by “attempting” every night. and i don’t mean laying there and trying to force myself to stay awake while i counted backwards from 100 or anything like that. i mean deep breathing, loosely (BIG emphasis on loosely) visualizing where i’ll be waking up, and telling myself ‘i’m in my DR.’

the first step to the mindset shift is that ‘attempts’ don’t really exist, only whether or not you’ve fully and truly decided you are in your DR

there’s plenty more i could say on this topic, which is farrrr more important than the night routine itself, but i’ll get into what you actually asked for now:

— DRIFT & SHIFT ( a teensy little night routine for the girlies who have a hard time chilling out )

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

( your night routine won’t determine whether or not you shift, but it certainly helps if you’re relaxed, and that’s what this routine is for )

DAYTIME PREP .　　. 　 ˚　. throughout your day, do robotic affirmations. it’s a great thing to get in the habit of doing in general—murmuring to yourself, humming, or just silently repeating them to yourself in your head. “I am shifting every second.” “I am a master shifter.” “I am aware of my desired reality.” “Shifting is less than effortless.” feed your subconscious the important stuff all day, not just at night

1 .　　. 　 ˚　. PHONE ON SILENT — the moment you decide to start winding down and focusing on relaxation. i mean it. not even vibrate. SILENT.

2 .　　. 　 ˚　. HOT SHOWER — i always feel my most relaxed when i crawl into bed after taking a burning hot shower. the sigh you let out when you’re squeaky clean and wrapping yourself in your comforter means you’ve reached an entirely new plane of relaxation

3 .　　. 　 ˚　. STRETCHING — you don’t even need a yoga mat, you can do it once you’re already laying down. alternatively, you don’t even have to stretch, just systematically go through each of your body parts and make a point to relax them. regardless of which you do, the objective is to release any physical tension from the day. sink into your bed like you’re being pulled down into a cloud

4 .　　. 　 ˚　. SOUNDTRACK — put on something in the background, it truly doesn’t matter what—whatever feels right. it could be positive frequencies, a subliminal for shifting, ambient sound that connects you to your DR (hogwarts common room ambiance, forest or ocean sounds, etc. i’ve found some real gems on youtube before), or just soft music playing. quiet enough so it doesn’t distract you, and you can sink into it

5 .　　. 　 ˚　. SCENTTRACK — my reasoning for spraying various perfumes, lavender blend sleep sprays, or body mists before i go to sleep isn’t just for relaxation, it’s also for distraction. in my experience, if something in my environment is different when i’m laying down to sleep (a different smell than i’m used to, for example) makes it much easier to convince myself that i’m aware of another reality—which is the name of the game, really: believing it

6 .　　. 　 ˚　. DEEP BREATHS — my favorite part, and the most important part. nothing in the whole world will get you more relaxed than laser-focusing in on your breathing—in, out, in, out. you’re already in your DR

let go of the pressure and let yourself float into that in-between state where dreams and reality start to blur

goodnight, shifter. sweet dreams and even sweeter DRs :^)

.　　. 　 ˚　. this guide is for anyone, but this DISCLAIMER IS FOR AVERY MY DEAR SPECIFICALLY — you get in your head about this sort of thing and overthink it. no tip or trick or routine is the “secret” to shifting. your mindset and your affirmations are the key, here. i hope this guide helps you relax for bed before shifting, but what you should be focusing on is tending to your precious subconscious and its tightly held beliefs. you’ve already shifted 🫶

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[into-f0lkl0re]

Paige bueckers head cannons

I’m in the writing mood idk why

not spell checked (srry)

warnings: slightly nsfw at the end

enjoy!!

———————————————————————

sfw

* definitely liked you first. i feel like caroline probably introduced you guys and she was immediately internally freaking out because you were so nice and chill and polar opposite of her

* would literally do anything to impress you like would jump really high and than turn around to make sure you saw

* for example say yall are in target to get some tru fru (cuz yk she loves her tru fru. her and kk have a serious problem god damn) and you are just pushing the cart not paying attention and she is just like “babe look babe look” “ watch this” “ are you watching??” and you finally are like yes paige and she just does a run a jump to touch something really high and then just skips back to you like “did you see that? you saw that right? I jumped so high!!!!”

* whenever she is on live with kk will just constantly talk about you to the point where everyone else is so fucking annoyed

* like kk is trying to give a crumbl review in her room (that one live) and is like “this one’s mint, i don’t like mint so im not gonna try it but ice wants some” and paige is just like “did you guys know that y/n loves mint. her favorite ice cream is mint chip and like the other day we wer-“ and you just see kk roll her eyes and groan really loudly “paige let me rate this damn cookie” and paige is just like 😧 cuz she just loves talking about you sm cuz your her baby

* during games every time she makes a basket will search for you in the audience and then smile really big

* speaking of games best believe she wants you at every single game and when you can’t go to one she is like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

* and gives you the silent treatment ( not like literally) but she is just so pouty

* like “ babe wdym you have to study for midterms? I have a game tonight. you have to be there” if this is after she recovers from her acl injury she will be like “it’s bad luck if you don’t come. i’m gonna get hurt again” and then you end up going just to cheer her up.

* loves to play video games with you

* if you don’t like playing video games than she just wants to be in the same room as you

* very clingy and touchy especially when drunk

* gets very very pouty when y’all are cuddling and you have to get up to do something

* will follow you around like a lost puppy until you can’t sit down with her again

* if you are studying or working and can’t exactly talk to her or entertain her she will just sit next to you and watch what you are doing or play with your hair

* if you are doing something on the computer she will start braiding your hair while looking over your shoulder

* her love languages are physical touch and quality time together

nsfw

* dom like 95% of the time but loves when you take control

* like after a really hard practice or game or just a shit day in general she really just wants you to take care of her

* you guys do not have a stone top/pillow princess dynamic (sorry not sorry) ( like yk how a lot of times the mascs will get treated like men in the relationship. that is not your guys relationship) you both give

* she loves to please you but also loves being pleased

* strap ( that’s it)

* she likes using the strap on you but she loves to be eaten out or honestly sometimes a really heated make out session and she just gets off from grinding on you

* she leaves a bunch of hickies all over you (i mean every where)

* wishes you could leave hickies all over her but you can’t that often because of her basket ball uniform

* but best believe off season she is covered in them

* safe word!!! she doesn’t really do overstimulation to much because safe word is not the goal. a safe word is like an emergency stop button

* but y’all can give for a bit

* if you two ever got to a place where you had to use the safe word she would feel so bad

* like y’all wouldn’t have sex for the next couple days because she is so scared of hurting you

* it gets to the point where you have to be like “ i promise you will not hurt me what happened was a miscommunication you didn’t do anything wrong”

* y’all have a really long talk on consent and shit like that because your safety is her no.1 priority

* same goes the other way around

* just loves you smm and loves showing it in anyway she can

I hope y’all like this!! I want to write for other wbb/wnba people as well so please send in requests 🙏 of what y’all would want

i will def do more headcannons for other people as well just ask! I honestly have been having sm writing and i have a bunch of ideas in my notes app! ik the smut wasn’t very smutty (im srry) i don’t have a lot of experience writing smut but i am not against writing it so i will write more if wanted!

Big forehead kisses💕💕

-Faye

[lustkillers]

okok hear me out: rough sex in a loud party where any character you want is pounding into reader, forcing them to be quiet until he cums all over her and forces her back into the party, putting her on display for everyone. just a thought, love you're writing !!

LOOSEN UP THEIR FROWN, MAKE 'EM FEEL ALIVE!

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - you're only his.

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit here! hard dom!euro, sub!reader unprotected sex, rough sex, impact play, public sex/exhibitionism?? , voyeurism?, slight asphyxiation, degradation, spit, jealous!euro, toxic (?) couple tbh, FACIALLLL!!! ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - euronymous x fem!reader ❪ not the actual euronymous, only rory’s portrayal. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ note - IM BACKKK from my dreadful writers block!! i'm also bombarded with school work, i'm so sorry for being inactive on terms of writing!! thank u for the request & hopefully i did this request justice... i'm literally sick as shit and seeing stars!! as always, not proofread! requests are open!!

HOW did you end up here? Standing in the middle of a house party, your face covered in his cum. Others knew, some didn't. But you knew... You knew it all too well.

Øystein had been pissing you off recently, so you decided to take a night out on the town with your friends to blow off some steam. Plus, you knew Øystein would be busy and wouldn't bother you tonight, as he had other plans.

He'd always be deep into his music, making him insufferable sometimes. You wanted a night without his judgment, so you went to the house party, not telling him that you were leaving. 'It's not like he cares...' You thought.

The party was raging with people inside, strobe lights scattered along the house and the intense thumping of bass. You felt your body come alive with every beat, and soon you were dancing among everyone else.

Your friends had left you to talk to other guys, get drinks, and possibly fuck. That alone made you want to leave, but something about this party didn't allow you to. Everything around you was a blur, and other men had hands on your waist... But they weren't him.

Suddenly, you felt a new pair of hands around your waist. You looked back and saw Øystein standing there, his eyes smoldering with desire… But also anger and passion. He looked at you with an intensity that made your body tremble.

Your stomach bubbled with many emotions, and your head was like a wheel; spinning with what you should say to him at this moment.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from parties like this, but now here you are!” Øystein said incredulously.

You wanted to say something along the lines of how it wasn't his decision to make, but you couldn't take your eyes off him; he was still holding you close. Something in your head felt unscrewed, not responding well to his response. You should've been defending yourself... Not standing there with your eyes searching his.

“I-I…” You stuttered, unable to put together any sort of coherent response.

He only grabbed you, leading you away from the suffocating crowd you didn't even know was bothering you until this point. He kept a tight grip on you as he dragged you upstairs.

As soon as you reached the top, there was a hallway with 3 doors; 2 adjacent to each other, and one parallel to the 2 doors. He opened the door parallel to the 2, loud moans ringing through both of your ears, the sight of your friend riding some random guy she just met.

A yelp emits from your mouth, your hand instantly closing the door. A deep sigh leaves Øystein's mouth, a chuckle soon to follow.

"This is why I told you to stay away from parties like this," he said shaking his head as he released you from his ironclad grip. You were about to speak up again, but the words caught in your throat when he grabbed your face and inched closer, a smirk slowly making its way across his face.

The couple hastily moved away from each other, a stern look suddenly present in Øystein's face. He motioned you to come inside the room while they quickly ran out of it, leaving you two alone.

The atmosphere was tense as Øystein pointed his finger at you, the silence filling the room. He finally opened his mouth to speak. "You were about to do something stupid," He said accusingly, his intense gaze never leaving your face.

You gulped, suddenly intimidated by him. "I-I was just curious," you stuttered. You instantly regretted your words.

He clenched his jaw, looking at you with disdain before letting out a deep breath and relaxing his stance a bit.

"Curiosity is not always your friend," he tilted his head, his gaze still boring into yours as he grabbed your hands in his own. "I think… You’re just acting like a slut to get my attention."

You felt your heart racing as you stared back at him, unable to find words. Øystein smiled devilishly before swooping in for a kiss without warning, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall. He then kissed every inch of your body until his lips were back on yours. You could feel electricity coursing through both of your bodies and it felt amazing. You knew then that you were in way too deep.

His grip on you was tight, almost bruising your waist. As you both kissed, his body collided with yours, and soon you found yourself laid on the bed with him on top of you.

Your pussy pooled with wetness, his veiny, pale hands traveling to your core. He started to move his fingers inside you, pushing and pulling in a deep rhythm. His subtle and gentle movements were filling your body up with pleasure like nothing else before. With each thrust of his hand, you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

Before you even came, his hands retracted from your core and his lips trailed down your neck. He worked his way to your nipples, pulling up your top, and teasing them with his tongue as he moved further down past the small of your back, kissing each inch of skin as if it were precious.

However the passion ended there. Øystein suddenly flipped you over on all fours, his hand colliding with your ass; a stinging sensation traveling through you.

A moan escaped your lips, as you felt empty without him inside. In order to fill that void, your fingers found its way to your clit, rubbing it as strained whimpers escaped your mouth.

He smacked your hand away, placing his hand in front of your mouth. "Spit." He demanded.

A pool of your saliva bubbled on his hand, as he retracted it and rubbed it on his aching cock.

And before you knew it, he was spearing into you. His thrusts hurried and intense, as if it were his last time, each increasing in pressure until he was shaking with the feeling of pure pleasure.

"S-Slow down, Øystein... Fuck!" You cried out, sobs bubbling out of your mouth, and as soon as you know it, tears spilled out from pleasure.

Your moans rung in his ears as he noticed the music downstairs died down a bit, but he didn't care. He was too focused on the blissful pleasure that your body gave him, as your muscles clenched onto his cock with each thrust, sending spasms of ecstasy through his body.

His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, roughly stuffing your face into the pillows, suppressing your moans.

"Be fucking quiet, whore." He seethed, as his thrusts quickened and the air filled with your muffled moans.

It was hard to breathe with your face in the pillows, and the fact that he kept smacking your ass didn't help much. You felt your insides warming up as he hit just the right spot, and it wasn't long before a wave of heat spread over your body.

Just before you knew it, you came on his hard cock, moaning into the pillow as your wet pussy clenched tightly onto his cock. Your fluids seeped down your thighs, as your body shook in recovering pleasure.

Øystein was about to fall apart, his thrusts going erratic. His hands grabbed your shoulders and he started pounding into you wildly. It wasn't long before he let out a deep guttural grunt, "Let me paint that pretty face of yours." He pulled your head out the pillows, whispering in your ear.

The searing pain of the grip on his hair flowed through you, but you were still at a high.

He made you drop to your knees, pumping his cock right in front of your face. You opened your mouth, closing your eyes and letting Øystein shoot his cum over your tongue and face.

It was then that you felt the last contractions of his orgasm, and Øystein finally released his grip from your hair. You stayed on your knees for a moment, taking in everything that just happened.

As you looked up to him with glazed eyes, his smile devilishly looking down upon you. "Let's go," His voice raspy.

You stood up, nodding, and your knees slightly went weak. "Let me just wipe my face–"

"No." Øystein's voice was stern. "Leave it." He said with a smirk.

As you both descended down the stairs, the party still going on as a few eyes stared at you. Silence was shared between them, while others raised an eyebrow.

Shit, some of them even had a hard-on.

Øystein didn't care though,

he wanted everyone to know you were his.

[anothermansjeans]

Bau team having to be at an award show for some reason and you win an award and make a speech:

Shout out to donatella versace for making this dress and to that pretty fbi agent whos taking it off of me tonight *winks*

Spencer: 🧍

Bau: 😲

(LIKE IMAGINE THIS BEING THEIR FIRST EVER MEETING LIKE... HE WOULD DIE)

OKAY SO I DIDNT HAVE THEM AT THE SHOW (im so sorry i will write them at an award show at some point this is just what came to my mind as i wrote) BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

cw: innuendos, pretty fluffy, spencer light (i'm sorry)

wc: 599

singer!reader masterlist

++

You were one hundred percent sure you were currently dreaming. Here you are, sitting in Crypto.com Arena in downtown Los Angeles, sitting at a small table with your manager, and your best friend, Katie. It was the night of the Grammys, and your album, favorite, was nominated for best pop vocal album. Never in your life did you imagine you'd be nominated, but here you were.

Early in the day, you had been very nervous regarding the whole thing. You were sitting in your hotel room with anxiety creeping up on you and Katie sat next to you and held your hands.

“Hey, it’s okay, you'll be okay!”

You let out a shaky laugh, “I don't know, K, I’m freaking out. I won't win– I shouldn't have even asked Spencer to be here. He came here to do nothing but sit in this hotel room and watch me not win.”

“Y/N, babe, he loves you and he doesn't care if you don't win. He was very happy to be here, even if he can’t be at the arena.” She sighed, giving you a knowing look, “now, shut the fuck up before he hears you speaking like this.”

You groaned and put your head in your hands. “I just don't want to feel like this.”

Her sigh was soft, and she gently rubbed your back, comforting you. “How about this,” she began, “I’ll give you a dare you have to do if you win. That way you'll be too worried about that and not on the whole Grammy thing.”

You gave her a skeptical look, “what dare?”

She gave an evil look and leaned into you. “Well you're wearing a one of a kind Donatella Versace,” you have an acknowledging hum, “and you're going to look hot as fuck,”

“Yes, and?”

“And if you win, you have to throw in a shoutout to Donatella and the man taking it off of you tonight.”

“Oh my God,” you smacked your hand over your mouth, concealing some of your giggles, “okay…”

And the rest of history. You sat through the ceremony, listening to the live performances and the other category winners, only holding your breath when they made it to yours.

“And the Grammy goes to…” Breathe in… breathe through… breathe deep… breathe out… “favorite, Y/N Y/L/N!”

And holy shit, you won.

You shakily looked over at Katie, who had the biggest grin, and even with her here, you wish Spencer could also be next to you as well, giving you a hug and kiss before encouraging you on stage. After the congratulations from the people around you, you walked up the stairs and over to the microphone, letting out a breath.

“Um, thank you so much, I- wow,” you laughed, looking down at the award in your hands, “thank you to my management, and my producers, and my best friend, and my muse for this album. And a huge thank you to the fans; without you I wouldn't be employed.” You gave another laugh, looking out to your friends and thinking of the man currently thinking of the man sitting on a hotel bed watching this speech. “Also…” a smirk was plastered on your face, “shoutout to Donatella Versace for making this dress, and the pretty FBI agent who's taking it off of me tonight!”

The crowd went crazy over it, and when you saw Spencer later that night, he was a blushing mess. It also helped that Penelope made sure to text you that everyone was watching and instantly had something to say to Spencer.

++

singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant @chericherrypie @punksnotdeadbutiam @stillhere197 @laddywitch @httpstoyosi @obi-wansgirl @amandareids @mynameiskelly

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!

[08melancholie]

Coated. — Micah Bell/Reader

tags: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Denial of Feelings, Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Location: Valentine (Red Dead Redemption), Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Soft Micah Bell, Pining, Pining Reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a freak, Female Honorifics and Terms, a bit ooc but you can't blame me i just want him so bad, Obsession, Obsessive Behaviour, Unresolved Sexual Tension

summary: It felt unreal; the smell of musk, gunpowder and smoke, the leather fabric dragging over your undershirt, the way it hung over your body, threatening to slip off with every movement from the size difference. A storm always ruined your plans, usually. Though, you were finally glad for the change of weather, seeing how much it benefitted you tonight.

a/n: micah bell fluff im sorry guys cant help myself lawd....... i want him to give me a bear hug and tell me itll be ok

Not proofread !!!!

words: 3,288 | AO3 LINK

Valentine always smelled the same, and it would instantly attack your nostrils when you'd exit the almost run-down saloon after a night out. Today, a fraction of the gang had one of the more successful jobs, and decided to treat themselves to a drink out in the nearby town instead of in camp, like they would usually. You were part of the fraction; having accompanied them on quite a few jobs as of recently.

It was a high-risk robbery, and it went so much smoother than any of the men you did the job with expected it to. So, it was obvious drinks would be needed. Maybe getting yourself drunk is exactly what you needed; whether or whether not you did, you were going to do it. And get drunk you—somewhat—did. You were a bit cheap, so you stopped yourself at tipsy with four shots of whiskey and a few rounds of beers that Arthur generously paid for everyone. Most people actually tapped out before you; surprisingly. Your guess was that they were simply too tired. By the end of the night, the only members left in the saloon out of your little group were Arthur, Dutch, Micah and yourself. You tapped out at your limit—more-so your wallets limit—and decided you'd also head out, saying so to the men deciding to keep on drinking. They told you to have a good night, and you returned the words before walking out.

And so, here you were, on the porch stairs a few feet before the saloon door, a cigarette held in your hand while you waited for the storm to die down a bit. The air was undeniably hot; seeing as the storm was happening late-July, which was odd. Your undershirt wasn't providing much warmth, and you hoped that the cigarette would do the job for you instead—to no avail.

You took shaky drags of your cigarette and blew the smoke out before yourself, hugging your body with your free hand. Seriously; why the hell was there a storm right now? At this time of year? It puzzled you, that much was sure. You just hoped it'd settle, even if by a bit, before you mounted up and left for camp.

The saloon doors creak, the old wood far past being an easy oil-it-up fix by now, and the owners too stingy and lazy to replace them. Spurs clank against the boots of the owner, that stops next to you.

"Hell you doin' out here, still?" Micah Bell. He had a very distinct voice; thick accent that muffled some of his words, just barely coherent when he spoke to you. A small drawl to it, like he was dragging the words out with him when he spoke them.

You explain your unfortunate situation—the coldness and wetness providing no sustainable condition to go riding right now—before you toss your cigarette into the muddy surface at the bottom of the stairs. He seems confused by your words, though. "So you'll shoot up half a town but is scared of a lil' water an' cold?" He teases you—like he does, every day. Everyone, at that. He always seeks his victim-of-the-day out easily, and that has been you today. What an honor.

You replied with a small scoff, shooing him off with your hand. "Oh, don't be like that girl," He lowered himself to a crouching position, now almost on level with you. "gotta let me tease you sometimes." His breath told you that he's had much more to drink than yourself, reeking of liquor and matching the usual scent of the saloon. But, that smelled seemed to match him.

"Quite a storm, yeah..." He watched the rain splash down onto the dirt road ahead, his forearms on his bent knees. "You ain't dressed for 'ts hellish weather either, huh?"

He's damn right; you're still shivering and hugging yourself for warmth, the cigarette previously in your hand providing barely any warming to your body.

But here's something you need to know; drunk Micah and sober Micah are two separate people.

He hummed in thought for a moment before clicking his tongue and standing back up, looking down at you. "Get up." You gazed up at him, creasing your eyebrows in confusion. You waited for some sort of explanation, unmoving—until he repeated himself, and you knew he wouldn't say it a third time. You stand up reluctantly, turning to face him and waiting for whatever he had in mind. The next action is one only of drunk Micah Bell; starting to unbutton his coat in front of you, every button revealing more of his red undershirt. He shrugged it off his body and took a step forward, draping it around you. At first, you really just assumed he was messing with you, trying to provoke a reaction before snatching the article of clothing right back. But no, he slipped it around you and took a step back, taking a moment to look at you. "It's a bit big.. but it'll help 'ya get home without'a sickness of some sorts."

You were dumbfounded. You knew Micah was much different when he's had some to drink—but this? This felt like the line was being blurred.

"Get home safe, and give it back when I'm in camp again, darlin'." He looked out at the road before turning back for the saloon, disappearing into the building with another obnoxious creak of the doors, leaving you silent and still in your spot outside.

Micah Bell gave you his coat.

Micah Bell told you to get home safe.

Micah Bell used a pet name on you.

Darling. Darling; he's never done this before, none of this, matter of a fact. Hell, he barely spoke to you, only ever interacting for job and mission-related purposes, or simple and brief small-talk. So, yes—this was goddamn shocking.

Your little trance was broken up by a brief thunderclap, lighting up the sky for barely half a second. You blinked a few times—clearly still processing whatever just happened—before you looked down. The leather coat hung very big on you, the sleeves hid your hands fully and it almost dragged on the floor. He wore it often, so it wasn't a surprise that the scent he usually carried plastered itself onto the jacket; gunpower, proof of many shootouts where he walked out victorious; smoke, the consequence of his bad smoking habits; musk, his usual scent that, honestly, you always connected to him. You liked the smell. Your body definitely appreciated the gesture, as it's stopped the goosebumps climbing up your arms and subsided the shaking of your body. You seemed to just accept the situation, wrapping the coat around yourself with one hand and keeping your other over the hat on your head, making a quick sprint to your horse. You mount up and urge it to start trotting towards camp, holding onto the reins with the hand previously on your hat.

Your steed definitely didn't appreciate the weather, much like yourself. She whinnied a lot, her own form of complaint. You promised her many treats as apology for putting her through the storm—despite you not being a weather forecaster, so really, how could you have known? Well, she won't care. If she could speak, you know you'd never hear the end of it. You just want to get home, as much as she does at that, and encourage her to keep riding. You've subconsciously brought your chin down to your chest inside of the coat, instantly getting yourself a whiff of that scent you felt earlier while still at the saloon. It's a fairly nice smell, you'll have to admit so. Your nose is right on the rim of the collar, and you can smell everything that you previously described.

Despite the acceptance of the current circumstances you've gotten yourself into, your mind is foggy—filled with unkempt, messy blonde hair; greyish-blue eyes and uniquely white eyelashes that make him stand out more than any camp member; a messy attractiveness linked to him. Boldness, secrecy, cockiness, vulgarity, degeneracy—very Micah Bell. Now, why is it that you're thinking so hard? Is it the coat—are you still stuck on the fact he would do such a thing? It shouldn't matter this hard; but it does. Nothings ever mattered more to you than figuring Micah Bell out.

He's truly a character, and you've caught yourself voluntarily wanting to talk to him, do jobs with him—all things that had the other girls in camp telling you to back off and not start with him. But it was never that simple, no. You felt obligated to seek him out, take a deeper look inside. You needed to know what his deal was, why he was the way he was.

Despite many protests, your horse gets you back to camp in a matter of minutes—ones that felt like hours to you, when thinking of the outlaw; whose scent is wrapped around yourself, his imprint all over your undershirt and on your body. That goddamn scent, it's doing things to you.

You hitch your horse just outside of camp, being extremely quiet while also quick to get out of the rain pelting down, just as hard as before. The last thing you both needed was someone seeing you wearing his coat—God knows what these people'll assume about it. You make a b-line for your tent, closing the rest of the camp and world out as you tie your flaps shut, the tent lit up by only a small oil lantern above your bedroll. Your hair is soaked, dripping to the ground and coat as the small water droplets race down the leather material. You find yourself subconsciously walking to a mirror, backing up and looking at yourself, in his coat. Your eyes trace your own form, intently. After a moment, you break yourself out of your space-out, shrugging the coat off and gently draping it onto a chair in your tent, to dry off. In the meantime, you change out of your own outfit, really not looking forward to getting any sicker than you probably are.

The water took it's time fully evaporating out of the coat, leaving a few small cracks in it and brittle slightly; more than before already. You felt mildly guilty—but he gave it to you, clearly already aware of what water will do to the fine material, so he shouldn't be upset. You hope. You're sat on your bedroll, watching the last few drops of rain fall off of the rim of the jacket. All you've been thinking about has been goddamn Micah—almost to the point of getting tired of it. And, just where was this coming from? You were lost. Maybe it was the tipsiness catching up to you—to be truthful, you hadn't had a true drink in weeks, so it might just be a... odd, new side effect. That's the excuse you'll go with, it seems.

Well, you assumed only alcohol consumption would make you want—no, need the coat on you again. It felt like it was beckoning you closer; luring you to itself like a siren does with her hypnotic voice, or as the fantasy books you see Jack read say. And, damn it, was it working on you.

You slowly got up, leaving your bedroll and strolling over to the chair, looking down at the piece of clothing. Your hands carefully pick the jacket up, running your fingers up and down the material, feeling every story-telling crease and cut, sometimes even finding little bullet wounds he never got sewn back up. Maybe he liked it that way. Then, one arm slips into the first sleeve—then the other, and you're wrapped around the coat again; around the scent; around Micah.

You look down at yourself, inspecting how the coat fits you, as if you haven't already done that enough times. And then, the goddamn scent again—you feel it creep around you, going straight for your nose. And damn you and your alcohol consumption, because you find yourself grasping the collar on both sides, and lifting them to your face. A delicious whiff of the smell, so memorable; so sweet; so unique; so Micah.

Jesus, what the hell are you doing?

You drop the collar from your hands and scrunch your nose up—at your own choice of action. Oh, but it only gets worse for you, as it always seems to. You go to take the coat off, ready to simply walk to his tent and toss it onto his bedroll, finally be done with all this. Yet, you hesitate. Your body protests, instantly showing it's against the idea when your hands freeze up, unable to slip the damned leather off of your bare shoulders. You hear yourself huff, getting frustrated. What was going on—why were you acting so goddamn weird?

Yet, you find yourself so easily accepting this, just how you accepted the coat to be wrapped around you by Micah, how you accepted the impulse of smelling it, and now the action of not taking away the article of clothing that's all over your body. You seem way too fine with all of this.

More-so with your body walking itself back to your bedroll and laying itself down—wrapping the coat around it tightly and simply basking in the aroma that's surrounding the leather over itself.

Your nose is pressed to the collar, acting almost as a weighted blanket on your frame. God, you feel like you're being lulled into your slumber. The smell, the feel, the weight of the coat—everything is like a goddamn drug to you. You're high off of it all; off of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, your breathing slows down, your arms tighten the coat around you.

Alcohol always made you a bit more sleepy than you'd have liked it to—so now, combine that with the heavenly feeling the simple item of clothing is giving you; you've never felt yourself fall asleep faster. You feel contentment, security, infatuation. And you decide that it's a welcomed feeling.

You never understood just how he functioned so well, so early into the day; especially knowing he was a heavy insomniac most nights. He never slept and always was and about by early morning, somehow. All you remember is waking up in his coat.

You decided to give it back early, be done with it for good. After your little display yesterday, you wanted nothing more to do with the coat. You knew he was awake, mostly by the one open canvas flap of his tent, a welcoming gesture, almost. Would be if we were talking about anyone but Micah.

You walked yourself over with the coat draped over your arm—not yourself, for once. You approached the small abode of the outlaw, kicking your boot against the canvas to announce your arrival. He grumbled something, only part you understood being a small "yeah, come in", and so you did. You hadn't yet been in his tent, for some reason. Guess it never interested you until yesterday; when you realized many things about yourself whilst wrapped around the leather material and distinctive aroma of Micah. Get it over with, you hummed, stepping inside.

For a man like Micah—and what you knew about him—his tent was pretty clean, surprisingly. He was sat on his bedroll, slowly rising as he noticed it was you coming to his tent. "Mm, mornin'." He drawled, walking up to you. "Finally here to return this, huh.." He quipped, looking down at you with one hand on his hip, the other extended for the coat. "thought you'd just keep it." He added quietly.

You were confused by the statement, asking him why you would just keep it. His answer had goosebumps reappearing all over your body, this time not from the cold, though. "After your little display; sleeping with my coat on, I thought you'd have just kept it alllll for yourself." Your blood would have run cold; if it didn't all flow right into your cheeks. Oh, God. Oh. God.

You knew you were turning red, looking like a beet, fresh out of the ground, plausibly. You couldn't look at him, not after that. You swore that your tent was tied oh-so-tightly, but it seems you were still sloppy with how you tied those damn flaps together. "Oh, don't be embarrassed," He leaned down closer, his hands on his knees as he got down to your level, not too fond of speaking down at you. "just ask me next time you want a little.. whiff." He hummed, taking the coat out of your hands and slipping it onto himself—with you watching like the little goddamn pervert you seem to be making yourself out to be.

You felt something stir in your stomach—why in the holy hell was he looking at you like that? That goddamn smirk; no anger about your weird display; nothing. And damn him for staying leaned down so close; probably able to see the sweat forming on your forehead. You were wishing for the earth to swallow you whole now.

His hand found your shoulder, squeezing it to get you out of your little trance again. "Go on about your day, girl;" His breath ticked the side of your neck, hitting a part of your ear as well. His voice was low, and the tone he was using with you as of right now? Your knees felt horribly weak. "but I might just have to keep my eye on 'ya, hm?" Oh, sweet Jesus.

Maybe it really was time to accept this—and fire back.

You blinked a few times, your eyes finding his beautiful blues. A small, murmured "thank you" left your lips; lips that then pecked his jawline and scruffy little beard. And, unable to control yourself, you did take in the smell of him again; the raw, unfiltered smell. Oh, it was the best thing you'll have ever gotten a whiff of. He was basking in cheap cologne—surprisingly—and gunpowder, his breath lingering about as he exhaled a noise of surprise breathlessly, his breath still soaked in the alcohol and liquor he had downed at the saloon. You had to brace yourself before you pulled away, unsure how he'd react—this was Micah Bell, after all.

You saw yourself in him, at that moment; shocked and red as a beet, trying to physically comprehend your move on him. Oh, if only boldness wasn't his biggest weakness. His hand squeezed your shoulder, gripping at it. Your body froze when he began to pull; drag you closer to him.

You couldn't stay in there for that—not until you sorted yourself out. And so, you detested and moved away, walking back and out of the tent, red and embarrassed—and feeling like a dog in heat, not to forget.

Micah was.. dumbfounded. Like yourself, when he offered his coat up. He managed to shut his mouth, but still, his eyes couldn't help lingering on the spot you once stood at, in his grip and kissing his jaw. When he finally broke himself out of the moment, he buttoned the long coat up to hide the obvious tightening in his pants, slipping his hands into his pockets. Though, the left pocket had an unusual item inside itself. Micah fished out a little box; ammo. You had left him a box of ammunition, 'for his troubles'; as the small note you scribbled onto said.

Damn you—and him for getting involved, because he knows he's not making it out of this unscathed.

Kudos on AO3 always appreciated! Thank you for reading and indulging in my insanity with me :)

[tea-and-secrets]

something ive noticed in my transition - women just do not treat me the same. its weird /: it felt like one day i was the butch everyone hid behind & felt safe with, and the next i was scaring ladies by just like existing

idk it just hits me really fuckin hard every now and again yk? like tn for example. i work at a restaurant, we close at 11pm, i typically take the last bus of the night home. tonight there was this woman (20s? 30s?), real pretty, real white, and obvs new to town. anyway, she got on at the same stop i did, and she got off at the same one i did (i live in company housing, and most all of us have 2nd jobs so its quite routine to see another [redacted] employee on the city bus to/from work #2). now its a mile long walk right on the edge of the creepy ass woods, in the pitch black, to the company apt complex. and i was walking behind her the whole way 😐 she got so freaked out y'all! mace open n ready, keys in the fingers, pretending to be on the phone, etc. and im jus over here takin my sweet ass time walkin so i can star gaze. i felt bad for her feeling scared, so idk i just made noise and turned my flashlight on and tried to let her get as far ahead of me as possible. mostly cuz i was Not about to have her call the fuckin c*ps on me, an entire ass queer brown man, for daring to walk home in the dark behind her. BITCH WE GOT BEARS OUT HERE like if ur so "scared" of me wtf u gon do when u come face to face wit them? die??

sorry that was all over the place im just. so tired!!!! of cis women & white people being "scared" of me because of who i am and what i look like (ive been told i look like an ndn chulo 🤔 sorta danny trejo mixed wit rez kid, but fagged up real good). i miss the "innate" kinship, the "i do not know you but that person is being creepy af so ig we've been besties since grade school" or "hi, ik im walking so close behind u but its cuz ur bleeding. heres a tampon hun" or "were bonding over having a very similar experience within this society" kinda thing yk?

of course, i still have that with [most] other queers it just, hurts ig. to have my "role" flipped so suddenly. i *like* being someone ppl flock to for safety. i *enjoy* protecting others and providing comfort. i *want* randoms to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for help if they need it. idk 😐 hard bein 🫳🏽 and a 2Spirit fagdyke

.

[not-alien-girl-v]

Lost In Reality (George Daniel)

warning: drinking, mentions of sex

note: this took me like a week to write. im so lonely wish i had a clingy lovesick george

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

r&b music is pumping through the speakers of the club. it’s dark in the vip section where you sit and a bit damp with sweat, everything is.

adam went home early tonight, you all bid your goodbyes and a parting farewell hug to him before he slipped out the door a few hours prior. it’s now nearing midnight and your fresh nail polish is chipped.

you sit alone in the private booth with ross. the two of you are tag-teaming being designated drivers tonight, figuring if you both only get mildly tipsy tonight, you can both be equally responsible enough for your two knuckleheads you’re supervising tonight.

speak of the devil, knuckle head #1 comes waltzing up to the table, looking a little lost, but when his gaze meets yours, he freezes in his spot like he’s just remembered he left his stove on, then squeezes in next to you.

“scooch over, i’m tired,” george whines, spilling onto you over the leather seat and your velvety dress.

you give hime a quick smile, feeling as though it sufficed as a brief greeting to your lover as you continue your conversation with ross. “i saw your dad at the store the other day, it was weird, he recognized me and everything.”

ross chuckles, “what was he buying?”

“i think it might have been like a few apples, maybe a-“

knucklehead #1, however, does not feel quite welcome enough, so he scoots even more into you, hand on the back of your neck, right at the roots of your hair and the other gripping your waist. “hey.”

you pause to stare at him, “hey.”

“and what else?” ross tries through stifled giggles to reanimate your dying conversation. george busies himself placing wet kisses to your neck.

“a carton of orange juice, laundry detergent,” your words are broken apart by george and his suffocating attack to your neck. when he realizes you’ve stopped talking, he uses his grip on your neck to his advantage and pulls you in for a full, smothering kiss. you humor him, not entirely enjoying the taste of tequila on his tongue but bearing it because he’s clearly needing something from you.

he pulls away, surprising that he chose to before you did, and presses his cheek into your chest for a moment, “ross, this is my woman, did you know that.”

“i did, mate.” ross glances back at you repeatedly, making fun of george without even having to say anything. george evidently does not pick up on this one bit.

“and did you know that i love her?”

“mm, it’s news to me. maybe you should let everyone else know, too.” you shoot ross a deathly glare, knowing that he knows how much you hate making a scene and you can tell he’s only joking but the knucklehead didn’t quite pick up on that.

with a cackle, he stands up, much to your horror, clinking a fork onto your glass and pulling you in close to him. you’re mildly freaking out, glad that the music in here is just loud enough that the entire establishment won’t hear this, maybe just the people near.

“everyone! listen up, im sorry. i am in love with this gorgeous woman right here! she is the love of my life! i am going to marry her!”

you swear your heart almost stops as people begin to clap. you try to pull him back down to sit and be out of the public’s eye but he resists. “kiss?” he puckers his lips already and points to them with a finger and you pout at him for only just a moment. you soon realize it’s the sole way to get him to stop, so you cave

you mean for it to be a small peck but he holds you in like he always does, the one thing that never changes about him when he gets drunk like this, pressing his lips messily to yours and holding your head too tightly that it roughs up your hair. you pull away this time, pushing him down to sit in your previous spot in the booth, trapping him in as you sit at the end.

“wow, that was beautiful, george,” ross grins wickedly and you set a mental reminder to shave his eyebrow off in his sleep when you get the chance. he’s a deep sleeper, you might just get away with it

“she deserves it. this woman right here, she single handedly saved my life. i love her. will you go to the bathroom with me?” you don’t even realize the last sentence is towards you until he nudges you with his elbow.

“to do what?” ross raises an eyebrow, wondering why he’s so involved in this conversation that has nothing to do with him.

“so i won’t be lonely.”

with an eye roll, you stand up, holding out both hands to pull your boyfriend up, “come on, big boy.” he laughs at the pet name and it’s not missed by you just how hot he is when he laughs like that, you never do.

he wraps an arm around you and you lead him outside instead of the bathroom, as fun as it sounds to take a piss hand in hand with him, you’d rather get your man home.

he stumbles outside with you, nearly taking you down with him but you steady the both of you with gentle hands on his waist. “hey. you wanna get out of here?”

his sly grin is valuable in your gaze, “any time, baby.”

“i mean, i’m going to take you home, okay?” you realize your second attempt doesn’t sound all that better.

“your place or mine?” he smirks. you decide to just let him have it if it means he’ll agree to leave.

“yours, sweets.”

he calls a cab for you, glad that he remembered how much you suck at doing so.

you snuggle up to him in the backseat while he informs the driver of the address. your rest your head on his strong shoulder and he rests his broad hand on your thigh out of instinct.

“you okay, honey?” everything about him is comforting, from his overwhelming kisses and public proclamations of love to the way that he constantly has the urge to take care of you in any way he can, even when he’s wasted. you almost feel bad about how bad his hangover is going to be tomorrow morning.

“i’m alright, handsome.” adding in the last bit just to mess with him and it works as well as you expect, his cheeks blush and a shy smile breaks upon his face.

“you really think so?” it’s not like him to ask for a bit of reassurance like this so you lean in to kiss his cheek.

“of course. i love you. so much.”

“that’s the first time you’ve said it tonight.”

you kiss his cheek again, “but do you really need me to say it for you to know?”

he smiles warmly, “no.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

you sent ross a text informing him that you had left and he replied something about how he had assumed so, doubting the pair of you spent a half hour in the bathroom.

you tucked george in with a loving kiss to the forehead and he was passed out asleep before you even climbed in next to him.

it’s now hours later in the late morning, and he was still asleep when you woke, so you decided to set up camp on his couch, mentally double fisting watching supernatural on the tv and reading a book.

it isn’t until 30 minutes of this quiet time alone that george comes slumping in, groggy and tired but awake. he stands in the doorway, looking around in confusion for a moment. “did we fuck last night?”

“no.”

you’re scared he’s going to continue with this, getting into some speech about how you’ll always have his consent, no matter what. it’s something you already know, something you’ve already established with him, but you don’t think you could ever bring yourself to be intimate with him when he isn’t fully present for it.

you know that he’s the same way when it goes for you, that he’d never lay a hand on you if you hadn’t explicitly agreed to it.

he doesn’t, however, and you’re even more grateful when he shuffles to the kitchen and begins to cook breakfast out of habit. you let him be, coexisting with him in the open floor plan of the room, you with your book and your show and him with the food and the stove.

after a good chunk of time, he returns to you, two plates in hand. passing one to you, “careful, love, it’s hot.”

“thank you.” he doesn’t say anything, feeling like he shouldn’t be thanked for simply cooking you breakfast, it seems like the least he can do.

he settles down next to you and your stretch your legs out over his lap, allowing him to rest a hand over your thighs.

you eat in comfortable silence for a moment until he interrupts it. “have you started your period?”

you almost choke, “pardon?”

“has your period started yet?” he doesn’t elaborate any more, likely until you give an answer.

“how did you know?”

he rubs up and down your leg. “i track it for you. cuz i know you always forget to. it also helps me plan our date nights better.”

“why? i mean, thank you, but why?”

he shrugs. “because i care about you.”

you study him over your slice of toast but decide to leave him be. if he chooses to show his love to you in unconventional ways, that’s his decision and you’ll accept his affection in any way you can get it.

once he finishes his plate, he sets it to the side on his coffee table and begins to busy himself with kneading and pawing at your legs. he focuses in on the fleshiest part, your inner thigh and you continue to study him like an creature nearing extinction.

“this is the best part, this right here.”

“of my thigh?” he nods.

“it’s good thigh. prime thigh.”

“ok.”

he sighs now, not loud and dramatic like you do, but a forced exhale. “i’ve got to go to the studio today, my love.”

“so go.”

“i don’t want to leave you. barely seen you this week. finally got you to myself and i’ve got to leave again.”

“i’ll stay here. i’ll be here when you get back and we can hang out some more.”

“is that too much to ask?”

“course not, babe.”

“thank you. i just love the idea of coming home to you. keeps me going. and i hate coming back here after a long day away and being all alone.”

you giggle and poke him with your foot, “god, you’re so obsessed with me.”

“i know, baby, im sorry,” he pushes off your legs and sets your plate to the side, not caring that you hadn’t finished yet. he crawls forward to lay between your legs and rest his head on your sternum.

“don’t be.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @indierockgirrl @milkluvr8 @americanangel @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

[gallivich]

21 jan

2025 #8

HAI TUMBLRRRRR

today was so mf good i had the best day like . ok nothing that special happened just everthing was good :) like i pretty much did ZERO work the entire day in art we didnt even have to do anything i just chatted with friends YAY in home ec we didnt have to do anything either we just went on chrome books and i was literally playing yttd with my friend. god i love her erm and we were just chatting all dayyyy bff actually!!! in geography just did a little drawing and sub so no seating plan!!!!!!! and in technology just went on ipads and played piano tiles ARE U KIDDING IM SO HAPPY MAN

lowkey upset tho i have no school tomorrow ffs I LOVE SCHOOL U DONT EVEN GET IT god i mention my love for school in every entry sorry... im so weird ok IDK WHAT IM GONNA DO TOMORROW NOOOOOOOOO I HATE BEING BY MYSELF A WHOLE DAYYYY

ughhh i wanna go back out i hate being home at my mums. like i love my mum i just have no one to talk to here but at my dads theres always people and places to go i miss it brooo i wanna go on a walk but theres no pavements or anything just road!! and its so far away from everywhere else aswell i canttt

i think i need more like online friends for when ive got no one to talk to but idk where to find them!!!! like im so lonely and yet when i find friends i end up never texting them bro. im so bad!!

anyway now i wanna watch to all the boys ive loved before then hopefully thatll escalate into me watching xo kitty coz i watched the first film and i freaking love it :P me trying to mention as much media as possible into my posts so i can add more tags! oopsie!

im tweaking coz wdym next year im turning 15 WDYM IM NOT STILL 9. WHATTTTT no ill actually be sick thats disgusting

UGHHHH WHY DOES NO ONE LIKE ME ok ill stfu now

im gonna kms if i dont get shadow milk cookie on crk. or any beast. ITS ABOUT FUCKING TIME PLSSSSS my team is SOOO WEAK and ive been playing for ages

omg i love hot water bottles so much they r so cozy and warm and i hate how i cant constantly snack i just wanna eat and not have to deal w the consequences:( idk what to post on tiktok i love it there but my minds so blank omg its open night tonight for my school IM GETTING THE WORST FOMO EVER EVERYONES THERE. im starting to wish i went UGHH instead im bed rotting alone (hope no one gets mad for me using that term LOOOL)

oui oui adios guys i love duolingo and doing duolingo at school its so peak (yttd better thooooo)

ANYWAY GOOD DAY i could yap for days butttt i wont. hopefully nothing else happens today coz im posting this at 7pm. LOL ok i miss everyone rn im sad. cheeky ass nostalgic song choice + me and who gif choice (i know who..... no not rlly he thinks im freaky (probably?))

byyyyyeee tuuuummmblrrr!!!!

youth - daughter

[pbaz7]

so excited for some cute little fluff (that better be what this is) (also tysm to the anon who said they loved my live reacts and i made their day, you made my day by saying that! ily baby!)

Anything Azzi wanted—or even thought about wanting—Paige made sure she had it.

this is the situation irl and im convinced

Paige would drop everything to sit by her side, holding her hand until Azzi's world felt steady again.

guys what why do i want to cry

She loved her so deeply it used to scare her sometimes.

so scared of this happening to me bc i know im the type of person to get in this situation😬

But Paige was also human. And everyone messes up sometimes.

say it louder for the old men on twitter shitting on her game

knowing she was going to pay for whatever they decided on.

paige is legit the team's sugar mama lmao

Azzi 💗: Well I guess that’s a no to the date

babe you've been on delivered for like 10 minutes don't be freaking out

Ice chimed in, laughing. “Azzi, you better send us some cowboy hats or something. Donate to the cause!”

i love icey ik that's an unpopular opinions apparently but like she's so cutie baby i love her

“Paige’s girl is calling during the live? 👀” “Not Siri exposing Paige rn 😭😭😭.”

the type of shit i'd be commenting

The two of them were always bad at being subtle when it came to Paige and Azzi.

ice if there was an award for outing p and az the most: 🙋‍♀️🏆

“I don’t really want to hang out with you anymore.”

respecfully azzi it seems like this is the kind of thing you can let slide seeing as how perfect p is to you 99.9% of the time

But Paige didn’t answer. She quietly buckled her seatbelt, her eyes flicking to the live chat on KK’s phone. Comments were flying in.

ik these fucking hoes are gonna be in the comments like "omg they broke up" like please guys what

But when they pulled up to a flower shop, the sign out front indicating it was about to close, KK finally ended the live.

this girl. it's like 9 pm.

“Paige!” the woman greeted warmly. “You’re just in time. What can I get for you today?”

the florist knows her by name. if this doesn't beat the player p allegations idk what will.

Paige’s heart sank when she noticed the faint redness around Azzi’s eyes, a clear sign she’d been crying.

princess don't cry you're perfect and i love you

“I wanna sleep alone tonight.”

sorry but respectfully azzi is pissing me off in this story

“Az, you act like I don’t care about us. I’m always thinking about you, no matter where I am.

clock. it.

Once in four years!”

it is so valid for p to be saying this idec

“I love you too… I’m just mad right now.”

i feel like i'm being stabbed slowly

The room was completely covered in flowers. Vases, bouquets—there were everywhere, sitting on her desk, lined up on the floor, spilling over onto her nightstand.

oh my god it's the 1,000 yellow daisies from gg

“Paige what… how is this still here? They’re supposed to have everything at the next location already for tomorrow.”

she's so perfect and cute i love lover p

“Yet, here you are still my girlfriend after all these years.” Paige teased, smirking.

in it for the long haul

The two of them continued their private tour, hand in hand, stealing kisses between pieces of art and basking in the quiet intimacy of the night Paige had created just for them.

and it ended better it would have been in the first place. cuties

hey author, this was so adorable! i'm loving all these one shots, they're so cute and i feel like you get to show off ur creativity as a writer.

hoping everything is okay with your girlfriend and you know you can always talk to me!

lysm bb

-🍉

this is the situation irl and im convinced

it’s definitely their situation irl

so scared of this happening to me bc i know im the type of person to get in this situation

no i definitely do not recommend. happened to me once and it turns you into a horrible person for a second

i love icey ik that's an unpopular opinions apparently but like she's so cutie baby i love her

i love isuneh so much and i hate that it’s an unpopular opinion because that’s bookie butt fr

i loved writing lover p it’s so nice because they always tryna make her a whore i did once 🫣

ily and i love your reaction like always 🍉

i need some more one shot ideas lowkey

[mrsnancywheeler]

i’ve been stuck in my thoughts for ages about this so hear me out.

So we know about reader seeing Conway’s family when she gets back from the games- the way they stare at her, their beautiful son’s killer. but image reader seeing her friends for the first time when she’s back. Becket, Tallulah, ect (sorry if any of this is spelt wrong it’s midnight and for some reason my hands won’t stop shaking😭)

I think it would be so bittersweet for all of her friends. The sweet girl everybody in District 4 likes, the sweet girl who helped all of her friends in their time of need even if it wasn’t reciprocated, the sweet girl who survived. Yet, the same sweet girl who survived is the same one who deceived and killed her best friend.

I have no clue what her friends would even say😭 It’s obvious that there would be some people who couldn’t see her the same way, but her own friends?

Like I always imagine Beckett and reader to have a really close relationship pre-reaping. Cause i totally feel that Beckett is that one friend who has no safety awareness and would do the stupidest shit, especially if it was to get a laugh out of reader. I just imagine him to be such a goofy guy and Tallulah would always be the one to insult him for it. I can just imagine them as a cute lil trio, but the question is, would that trio fade into a duo after reader comes back home?

ITS SO SAD TO THINK ABOUT BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY SHE HAS FINNICK BUT SHE NEEDS HER BEST FRIENDS TOO😭

I can just imagine Finnick’s heart breaking as he watches his sweet girl get socially isolated when she comes back, he’d watch her say that she deserves it and his heart would just shatter. Never in a million years would she deserve it, loosing all of her remaining friends because they can’t fathom what it’s like to be in the arena. They can’t sympathise or understand at all because they just don’t have the experience she has, so they have to resort to the knowledge that they already know. The knowledge that tells them that she’s a monster because she deceived her best friend and then killed him, even if it was for survival.

PLEASE IM BEHHINH ITS SO SAD

-🌺anon

so I believe that district 4 gets away with so much because they're so rich and the Capitol can funnel in so much propaganda, not as much as 1 & 2, but especially for the people who are more well off, the games are somewhat glorified. and I envision beckett and tallulah being victims of this to a certain extent. finnick presents himself as being fine, he parties, he acts like a normal rich young playboy, so it feeds into the narrative that all winning does is make you rich, powerful, but I don't think it serves as an incentive for either of them to volunteer because they aren't the type of people who long for more then the privileged lives they already have.

ao basically I don't necessarily think they isolate her, but I think she isolates herself because of her perception of the situation. she hates herself, thinks she deserves to suffer, that everyone should hate her the way she does, and so she convinces herself that everyone's putting on a facade because she has wealth now, not because they still care about her as a person. so she puts on a face at parties, but draws away otherwise. in the first year or so she probably only interacts, on a day to day basis, with finnick and just enough with her family to support them financially.

finnick tries to get her to spend time with mags, but for a while she won't, the first time she does she sits there in silence until she starts bawling. he doesn't like beckett much but he tries to help him open back up to her, and he does enjoy talullah's company, so he'd invite them over for dinner just try to mediate.

but once he's making dinner and tells her he's invited people over she's pissed and freaking out

"what do you mean? finnick, please, I can't act tonight, just me and you, please"

"you don't have to act, angel, you haven't talked to people in months. they're your friends and worried about you because they care."

"no they don't! how can anybody care about me after what they watched me do? look what I do to my friends."

"I care about you."

"tell them not to come."

"then you'll come to the market with me tomorrow."

"finnick-"

"you're gonna have to pick something because I'm not going to let you rot away anymore. I love you and I need you to take care of yourself, you need to talk to people."

"finn, I'm fine, I just need you."

and he wants to fold for his sweet girl so bad but he has to be strong because he has to get her on a path to healing, it was okay at first, but way too much time has passed and it can't become permanent. so he's clenching his jaw, rubbing his forehead, taking a deep breath, ignoring her pleading eyes.

"they're coming."

"I'll lock myself in the bathroom."

and then he's crying because he just wants to help his sweet girl and his heart aches. he doesn't want to be sobbing the way he is, but it's like he can't stop. it's overwhelmed his senses. and then she's flooded with guilt again and she's crying too.

"I'm sorry I'm so difficult, you deserve better."

and then his heart hurts more when he goes to hug her, to comfort her and she's stepping away because she refuses to accept said comfort. and there's a silence besides the simmering food and sniffling tears before he's able to compose himself enough.

"mags, the market, or dinner? you choose, but you have to choose now or they will come. "

they both know he's strong enough to stop her from running into the bathroom so there's another silence. before she's slowly, shamefully walking towards him, carefully grabbing his hand and tracing up his arm.

"you've already started dinner and it's too late to cancel."

she's muttering it looking at the floor and he can't help but suddenly feel so relieved and ecstatic, so hopeful

"really?"

his voice glimmering so slightly and she's nodding, continuing her patterns up his arm before he's hugging her with all of his warmth. and he's filled with excitement because she's taking a step, she's trying. and it's a rough night, but she tries. the conversation gets awkward and clunky, but she talks, and by the end of the night she's a little less sure her friends despise her.

it still takes nearly two years for her to just be friends again, but she makes small steps through the storm.

and also beckett and tallulah totally end up getting married years later and reader is a bridesmaid, so she does eventually once again become a pretty functioning member of society, up until the quarter quell.

[donald-doubtworthy]

Well, the new year is coming around!

I'm gonna be honest, I didn't do a whole lot this year!! For starters, I started posting on Tumblr, and well, life has continued like normal otherwise.

Also, Tristan (yes, him) got me out tonight to watch the fireworks with everyone else. While I would USUALLY turn him down, I felt, a bit obligated to go with this time.

Look, all I'm saying is last year, I sat at my desk the moment the clock struck 2024, and I didn't feel too good about it.

This year, of course, I'm writing this on the grass of Natuju lookout in the Garden district, watching the fireworks light up the sky, with blinking city lights and displays twinkling in the distance. There's laughing people, booming music, flashing lights. All for free as well!

It's pretty nice, actually, but not because Tristan brought in his band of hillbillies to make droning noise while we wait in the dark, but because I'm here with Clive, and Avalon, and Eve, and Sirius, and Lizz, and Ed for some reason, and I think I also saw Hector Damon somewhere.

Boy, Loomians sure know how to dance and shout and make a racket for the neighbours, but being included is quelling the whining from me for a moment.

Y'know, maybe you all could come join us!

Errmmmm, maybe not actually. You guys would tower over our space elevators.

Maybe, I'll hand the phone to some other people, hold on.

Hey.

What's going on?

Don told me to write something.

Something.

Hey!!!! How is it going?!?! Happy New Year you LEHENDS!!!

LEFENDS

LWGENSS

LEGENDS

Fuck Don needs to get auto-correct on this phone, he acts like he's 400 even though he's only 30. Ugh. He's so bad with technology. I could fix it, but I won't. I'm a bit too good for that.

Um, hey! Happy New Year! I'm having a wonderful time out here, wish some of you could be here!

What's groovin freaks?! You guys gonna party till' you can't anymore??!!! Happy New Year!!!

Oh, I have the phone! Hey, I have a joke!

What do you call a party-ready lizard?

A HAPPY NEWT YEAR PARTIER.

Sorry, Avalon again. She hasn't stopped laughing. It's been 5 minutes. She's the best.

What? What's this. What's it doing. There's words coming up.

It's recording your voice.

Why?

Because you pressed the button.

Well, make it stop.

You have to press that one.

Which one.

Alright, alright, I'm not stupid!

Oka im tyoing niw i dont kow it fit sworksong you should go to tibself town monxv cinena. is it still roecording whstss goig o

Ugh. Clive just suggested I pass the phone to... Ugh. Hector Damon.

Fine.

Just this once.

Oh. Wait, really? Shit.

Uh, hey.

Happy N

Anyway, it's nice out here, see you all around!

Happy New Year!!!

-Donald Daniel Doubtworthy

[secret-sturniolo]

my hero - chris sturniolo

summary - when a guy at a party makes y/n uncomfortable, chris comes to her rescue

warnings - creepy men, implied crimes, mentions of alcohol, one kiss

a/n - sorry for not posting for a few days, i have been busy with school and work. im hoping i can write some more this weekend for you guys. i also hit over 50 followers. crazy!!

When my best friends Nick, Matt, and Chris invited me to come to this Halloween party with them in LA, of course I said yes. I went as the Queen of Hearts. My costume was more revealing than the clothes that I normally wear, but since it was Halloween, I decided why not have some fun? The triplets all went as Scream characters because I told them it would be cute if they matched, and of course they listened to me. I was already at the triplets house, so once I was done getting ready in Nick's room, I walked back downstairs to where everyone else was. I was met with wide eyes and surprised looks, as I hadn't told any of them what I was dressing up as.

"Girl, you look amazing!" Nick excitedly told me.

Matt just smiled, and I tried not to blush as I felt Chris's gaze on me, taking in every inch of my body. When he noticed I had caught him looking, he just gave me a small smirk. Once we were all ready, Matt started the car and drove us all to the party. I decided to sit in the back seat, but I was surprised when Chris gave up his normal seat in the front to Nick so he could sit by me in the back. We quietly talked and giggled with each other the whole way there. At one point, Chris leaned over closer to me and whispered in my ear.

"You look really good tonight."

I smiled, my cheeks turning red. "Thanks Chris, you don't look to bad yourself." I replied.

When we got to the party, it was busier and louder than I was expecting for a house that was on the smaller side, but I put my worries to the side and decided I was going to have some fun. Of course there was alcohol being served, but since neither me nor the triplets drink, we all grabbed sodas instead. At some point, we got split up, and because of the loud music and people dancing everywhere, it was hard for us to find each other. I had to use the bathroom, so I started to make my way upstairs. I discovered that there was a short line, so I leaned up against the wall and pulled out my phone to pass the time. I jumped when I felt a hand against my lower back, dangerously close to my ass.

"Hey pretty lady. What are you doing here all alone?"

I looked up to see an older man I had never met before, alcohol on his breath. I moved away to try and get his hand off of me. Instead of taking the hint, he roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me back, closer to him.

"Where do you think you're going? You're coming with me, I can't leave a pretty girl like you all alone."

"Get your hands off me you freak! And I'm not here alone, I'm here with my friends, so I'm good!" I yelled at him. I guess he didn't like that, because he pulled me even rougher towards the nearby bedroom that must have been unlocked.

"Shut up now, if you know what's good for you!" he whisper-yelled in my ear.

I was not about to let this man get what he wanted. That's when I saw Chris out of the corner of my eye. I screamed for him as loud as I could.

"Chris! Help!"

Even through all of the noise, he turned immediately, pushing through the crowd to get to me. When he reaches us, he shoves the man away from me.

"Hey, what are you touching my girl for you fucking creep!" he says.

My girl? I thought, briefly confused but I went with it.

"You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend. What a shame!" The creepy guy replied. This got Chris even more mad.

"If I see you touch another woman like that, we are going to have some real problems." He turned to me. "Y/n, let's get out of here."

He grabbed my hand and led me away before the other man even had a chance to respond.

"Chris, thank you so much." I told him sincerely.

"Of course, he had no right to do that to you. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I mean, I might have a bruise on my arm from how hard he grabbed me, but otherwise I'm fine. Just shaken up, that's all."

He didn't reply, but squeezed my hand tighter, letting me know he heard me. When we got to the car, Matt and Nick were already waiting for us. Chris must have texted them already.

"Y/n, are you okay? I'm so sorry that guy was such a creep." Nick said to me, pulling me into a hug.

"It's okay, but I think I'd just rather go home now." I told them. Matt nodded, getting into the drivers seat and starting the car. The whole way home, Chris's grip on my hand didn't loosen.

*time skip until they get home*

When we got back to the boy's house, Chris motioned for me to follow him to his room downstairs.

"If it's okay with you, I think you should stay here tonight. I don't want you to be alone."

I nodded. "Thank you, Chris. So much. I don't even want to think about what that man wanted to do to me."

Chris slowly walked over to me.

"Y/n, I want to make sure no man ever touches you like that again." he says looking into my eyes.

"What are you implying?" I asked him, secretly hoping it was what I thought it was.

"I'm saying that if you were my girlfriend I wouldn't let anybody else treat you like that." He smiles mischievously.

"Is this you saying you want to date me?" I retort.

"Well, what would you say?"

"Maybe this will answer your question." I say, cupping his cheek and I kiss him passionately. He immediately kisses me back, wrapping his arms around me.

"Looks like I have my answer."

[j2zara]

j2's vegas wedding outfit. porter's carrying him over the threshold of the chintzy honeymoon suite and spreading his bride out on a heart-shaped bed and making love to him ALL night.

IM SORRY I WISH I HAD MORE THOUGHTS ABT THIS BEYOND JUST FORMLESS GLEE. I was so busy living in the euphoria of j2porter vegas wedding roleplay that i forgot i lived in a world where i ought to say more than scream incoherently abt it. Sorry everyone for being soft about these two. Like its my fault. Tomorrow Jace is going to yell at j2 over this but today j2 is glowing. He's so happy and unfortunately im evil and in my heart porter has this terrible moment of in his head seeing J2 like this tacky wedding dress in his arms and all like yeah i would give it all up for j2 and then its over and hes like ok im normal now (he's not). He loves being in porter's arms he loves being carried across the threshold (secretly his favorite part) and J2 is so adoring and trusting and its just. I cry.

And i do think it would even be something that J2 would take a moment to accept, like i don't even think it would be his idea bc like he wants it he wants it to be real in that he wants porter to himself he wants to be the one picked to be It but also he wants the fantasy of it as well if he can't have that but also a part of him is like is it blasphemous is it wrong to want to indulge in the fantasy in which i get to be the one for Porter. Especially if this is not a situation in which he is invoking jace, like this is for him.

I can't decide if that once he's in on it though he's the one nervously but like excitedly trying to voice his ideas or if he's truly in for the ride. He definitely didn't decide on the dress but like unironically he loves it I think in his mind he would end up in something more dainty but its perfect. He can do tacky!!! He likes comfort, he likes tacky, he's never had a sense of style but he likes romance, repulsion at closeness is a jace instinct and it always feels alien in his brain, wrong, and J2 freaks out a bit abt the dress getting messed up at first but like the tags are right Porter is getting into it and J2 can relish the fact that Porter is not going to treat him like a precious thing, the want to the point of destruction is close to what he wants, right?

and the heels are crazy something that high might be a j3 special j2 has never worn a heel in his life and initially he's like idk abt this but if it's what porter wants then ok! And he's kinda wobbling around, but he's earnestly giving it his best shot like asking Porter "how do i look?" and like and its like endearing and awkward and so baby bird and Porter is just like so endeared by it until the heel snaps off but thats ok bc that means Porter gets to carry him some more!!

And i do think J2 gets into the roleplay aspect of it like for real for real. This entire night is about how special J2 is which he's like absolutely taking and relishing and he might actually die of happiness and b/c i love porter but i hate porter he's absolutely playing into it just this idea of like it's crazy and it's stupid but what if we went for it? i would give it all up for you. I chose you. I have to have you, which is why we're ruining the dress and the makeup. Like Porter rips the dress and he absolutely wants j2 to cry and his mascara to run and his lip gloss to smear while Porter is fucking his face and j2 is sooooo into it.

but also it gets very slow and treasures him kissing of the thighs and slowly taking off the garters and J2 might pass out. He's like. J2 is not doing the work for tonight this is for spoiling you (I earnestly think if they did commit to the whole honey moon suite thing Porter is making J2 everyone's problem. This is my special little princess for the night. Get behind me kitten he asked for no pickles). J3 makes fun of j2 for earnestly using the phrase "making love" sometimes and what they're doing usually isn't really that but tonight it is and. he cries but like for once its not like a sad cry or even a bittersweet cry.

But the other half of the roleplay beyond getting spoiled is j2 getting like wayyyy into it like. if he were really. basically living in this fantasy of essentially being Porter's housewife and being like yeah i'd do all your dishes and all your laundry and treat you right and be dressed up for you with a cute little apron and give you a kiss every day when you came home work and of course there's a home cooked meal and you can watch tv on the couch or i could give you a massage and tell you how hard you work and how happy i am to see you and whatever else you want. You're the center of my world. And then i can blow you obviously. Which obviously is huge turn on for Porter so they go at it like two more times and then the rest of the night

J2 doesn’t stop telling Porter he loves him all night. The softy in me says Porter also says it back. But you didn’t hear it from me

[devilagent]

SONGS I ASSOCIATE WITH NICHOLAS. in depth because i am insane!

DARK SHADOWS THEME / NIGHT OF THE PENTAGRAM.    these are pretty self explanatory! i figured to add some actual music from the series on here especially since Pentagram has played often in nicholas scenes.

STAY DOWN HERE WHERE YOU BELONG.    this is 100% a self indulgent choice i will admit, tiny tim is one of my favorite singers especially when he sings with his deep voice, which he does on this track.  truthfully, nicholas should've stayed down below where he belongs.

BURNING FOR YOU.    i Always associated him with this song whenever itd play on the radio, another one ive seen people associate him with is Dont Fear The Reaper. i chose this one specifically for its lyrics. 'i'm living for giving the devil his due / i'm burning for you' really freaking good. 

WHO IS SHE?    i love how hypnotic and psychedlic this song sounds. i understand its a modern song but the vibe of it is So Trippy and the hypnotic instruments feel fitting, as if looking into nicholas psyche itself!! i wish i could find more songs like it that match his character. as for its role in his playlist, i interpret the song as nicholas meeting maggie for the first time.

SHE'D RATHER BE WITH ME.    60s song woohoo! the POV of this track is nicholas at joe, about maggie. it sounds SO arrogant and aligns quite well with his feelings on the matter. don't let his confidence fool you though, he knows deep down she'd rather be with joe. this is during the time he began to sabotage their relationship. BOOOO NICHOLAS

EARTH ANGEL (WILL YOU BE MINE?)    silly sappy love song. nicks feelings toward maggie, for sure viewing her as an angel on earth. which, she is polar opposite of what he is. her kindness and love has bewitched him.

YOU'RE AS PRETTY AS A PICTURE.    this track is an era of music i continually try to find more for nick. i LOVE this era music, it matches him well. if this song sounds a bit unnerving, its supposed to be. i want sweet old songs that feel unnatural or unnerving on a nicholas blair playlist, because of what he is. this is one is my favorite tracks for that reason. this song is meant to be nicholas feelings for maggie once again, "pretty as a picture" implies her fathers paintings, one of which she sold to him. see what i did there...

TONIGHT YOU BELONG TO ME.    yet another track meant to be unnerving. this song is definitely signaling the black wedding. 

GOODNIGHT SWEETHEART, GOODNIGHT.    i'm sorry im such a sicko /LIGHTHEARTED another song with unsettling tones. this song is implying episode 632! after being sacrificed on the alter... 

I CAN'T LET MAGGIE GO.    incredible song reccomended by @widowshill , its Perfection! very 60s vibed and describes nicholas feelings quite well. i adore it! it's true, he genuinely struggles to let her go and face the facts of the situation. he needs to accept things as they are even if he genuinely loves her.

AFTER TONIGHT WE SAY GOODBYE.    nicholas defeat, when he is destroyed on top of widowshill. directed toward maggie along with everyone else in Collinsport. most people will not really miss him LOL 

MR SANDMAN  (HALLOWEEN II VERS.)    i love this version so much. its atmosphere, the crackling of the music player, the jarring quality. its SO GOOD and fitting!! it makes sense for nicholas to be mr sandman since he hypnotizes people too, lol.

MIDNIGHT, THE STARS & YOU.    hm, this song wasn't geared at anyone in particular, just a general vibe that matches nicholas aesthetic! it could be interpreted as him & maggie as well i suppose.

THE MAGICIAN.    the lyrics to this one REALLY get me, they describe nicholas's character well. it was the first song i ever associated with him & its pretty solid. " do you find it gets a little easier each time you make things disappear? / old fools the magician bends the rules / as the crowd watches his every move "  JUST A SHAKING HAND WITHOUT A CONCRETE PLAN!! I'M A SHAKING HAND WITHOUT A PLAN!!! (screams on the floor)

WHEN HE DIED.    modern song but eh! got the spooky vibe and i like the lyrics. its self-explanatory, nicholas's destructions. its unhinged!

GOODNIGHT DAD, I LOVE YOU.    don't worry about it...completely self indulgent on my part.

WE'LL MEET AGAIN.    implies that nicholas always comes back, eventually! you can't keep a scheming warlock down for long!