#imagine this song from either of their perspectives

[conceptalbummultiverse]

You ever make a playlist for your writing project-in-progress? How about making a playlist for your OTP? I did both at the same time, and because I no longer have any shame, I'm going to share it here for everyone's enjoyment. Click above to listen, click below to read through what songs are on it.

"Love to Be Loved" by Peter Gabriel

And I let go.

I can let go of it.

Though it takes all the strength in me,

And all the world can see

I'm losing such a central part of me,

I can let go of it.

You know I need it!

You know I need it!

I recognize how much I've lost,

But I cannot face the cost,

'Cause I love to be loved.

"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

I always thought I might be bad.

Now I'm sure that it's true.

Because I think you're so good,

And I'm nothing like you.

Look at you go, I just adore you!

I wish that I knew

What makes you think I'm so special.

"One Caress" by Depeche Mode

When you think you've tried every road,

Every avenue,

Take one more look at what you found old,

And in it, you'll find something new.

Oh, girl,

Lead me into your darkness!

When this world is trying its hardest to leave me unimpressed,

Just one caress

From you, and I'm blessed.

"What Can I Do For You?" by Rebecca Sugar (I think... I know she wrote a lot of the music for Steven Universe but idk about this song specifically)

Human man, you are so much fun!

I hadn't planned on finding you quite so entertaining.

I like your band, I like your song.

I like the way human beings play.

I like playing along!

"Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses" by U2

You're an accident waiting to happen.

You're a piece of glass left there on the beach.

Well you tell me things I know you're not supposed to,

And you leave me just out of reach.

Who's gonna ride your wild horses?

Who's gonna drown in your blue sea?

Who's gonna ride your wild horses?

Who's gonna fall at the foot of thee?

"Judas" by Depeche Mode

You can fulfill your wildest ambitions,

And I'm sure you will lose your inhibitions.

So open yourself to me,

Risk your health for me,

If you want my love.

"Song For Someone" by U2

You let me into a conversation,

A conversation only we could make.

You break and enter my imagination.

Whatever's in there, it's yours to take.

I was told I'd feel nothing the first time.

You were slow to heal,

But this could be the night.

"Cosmonauts" by Fiona Apple

When I met you, I was fine with my nothing.

I grew with you and now I've changed.

What I've become is someone I can't be without your loving.

Be good to me; it isn't a game.

Now let me see, it's you and me,

Forgive a good God.

How do you suppose that we've survived?

Come on, that's right, left, right,

Make lighter all the heavier,

'Cause you and I will be like a couple of cosmonauts.

Except with way more gravity than when we started off.

"Someone Who Loves Me" by Sara Bareilles

Surrender's just a word 'til you try it out,

And see how hard it is to hurt with someone else around.

I'm the worst I've ever been,

Afraid of almost everything.

The skies are clear, but storms are always coming.

Your gift to me is just to be

Bracing for the winds I always summon.

My home, my heart- thank God you are

Someone who loves me!

"Absolute Beginners" by David Bowie

I've nothing much to offer.

There's nothing much to take.

I'm an absolute beginner,

And I'm absolutely sane.

As long as we're together,

The rest can go to hell.

I absolutely love you,

But we're absolute beginners.

With eyes completely open,

But nervous all the same.

"All That" by Sparks

All the smiles and all the frowns

And all the ups and all the downs

And all the fears that you would soon be gone.

You ignore my gaping flaws,

And I see you, and I'm in awe.

And look outside, it's very nearly dawn.

I can't believe my luck in meeting you!

Hey, help me out, I can't find my left shoe.

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

[eggcats]

I know everyone's already said this, but Vox is so funny because he's quite literally the most competent and professional Vee.

EXCEPT for when it comes to Alastor.

Like, HE’S the one who had to calm down Valentino and keep him from making a scene. (Especially because, yes, it looks bad if they can't control their employees, but - even in hell - it looks even worse if their top pornstar has to be dragged to the studio vs walking in on his own).

Velvette doesn't give a shit about professionalism. Like, Vox wanted to talk to Carmine about Angelic Security, and you think THAT'S how he wanted Velvette to treat her to try to guarantee them working together? Absolutely not.

(Also, Vox being able to immediately turn the tide of the paparazzi harassing him about news that JUST broke? Granted, he did use his hypnosis, but it wouldn't have worked if he didn't immediately come up with something on the fly. He knows how to keep his company running AND looking good, as WELL as being innovative enough to create new things with little to no notice.)

The other two Vees? I would not trust either of them to be the public speaker or the face of the company the way Vox is. Do you think either Velvette or Valentino would have been able to come up with a solution to the moved-up Extermination date in a way that pleased the general public?

But then. Some old timey radio deer shows back up and he immediately breaks down and can't plan for shit.

He sings a silly little song and immediately gets owned to the point he loses power to the entire city.

He plans to break in using a dude they KNOW is incompetent, and his only response when it (obviously) fails is to fucking gamer anon hate with "hahaha kys loser!" and the second he is confronted with Alastor’s face he can't do anything. He doesn't even try a single other thing after this point, cutting his loses entirely.

And THEN he avoids the meeting sending Velvette instead, potentially fucking up their ability to collaborate because he can't handle seeing Alastor.

This bisexual wreck of a television doesn't fucking leave his gamer dungeon once since Alastor is back, doing everything he can to avoid seeing him in real life.

Like, imagine what dealing with Vox is like from Alastor's perspective. HE never sees the professionalism or competence - he ONLY ever gets the pathetic mew-mew Vox!

Alastor is constantly being told how competent Vox is with his company and shit, but the second he's in the same room with him Vox is glitching and can't walk in a straight line without running into a wall or something. If I were Alastor, I'd have fun teasing the television too, because, like, what's wrong with him? It's funny!

Like, does Alastor register that this treatment is only for him, or does he think the rest of hell is pathetic enough to not notice or to just accept it? Does Alastor think Vox is like this all the time, and he's using his hypnosis to make everyone else forget about it?

Vox is just such a funny man, he has one weakness and it's just Alastor - and Alastor isn't even doing anything, he's just nearby minding his own goddamn business, lmao.

[jinnie-ret]

scarred knees and insecurities

Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments

word count: 2.7k

summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.

100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.

As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.

"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.

"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"

She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.

Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.

What's wrong with her knees

Ew but why do they look like that

Their knees look so old and wrinkly

Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural

Just another reason why she's ugly

Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.

Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is

Disgusting?

Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.

"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.

She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.

Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.

It was Hyunjin.

"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.

"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.

She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.

"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.

Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.

"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.

"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.

He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.

A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...

Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.

"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.

"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.

"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.

What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.

Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.

"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.

"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.

"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.

"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.

Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.

"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.

"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.

"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.

"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.

"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.

"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.

"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.

Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.

Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.

"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.

But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.

"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.

"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.

"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.

"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.

One second.

One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.

Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.

"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.

"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.

It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.

"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.

"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.

"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.

They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.

Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.

Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.

"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.

Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.

"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.

"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.

"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.

"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.

"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.

"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.

"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.

"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.

"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.

"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.

"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.

"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.

"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.

"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.

"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.

"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.

"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.

"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.

"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.

"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.

"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.

[tiamathh]

Your Next Friendship <3

Note: it's been a while, this is a repost but I have the same audience I had like 4 years ago so bear with me, new pac being worked on love you stay hydrated stay healthy muah <33 like and rb if you can!

Do not plagiarise, reword, steal, repost my work!

✧ Masterlist

Pile 1

Oh, this is cute, this will be a very new beginning for both parties!! There will be a lot of innocence here, it's playful and will help heal your inner child. This person may even help you feel freer, you could help them back by making them be more careful and grounded with their decisions. You may be manifesting this friendship!! It will definitely be some sort of wish fulfilment for you. They would be someone who's really accomplished and successful in whatever they do, they could have Aries or Capricorn in their chart as well. They'll teach you how to be more confident and open to accepting love and affection. Your relationship dynamic is very given and take, however you may find yourself too absorbed in this friendship at one point where you could miss out on meeting new people and making more friends, so beware of that.

Ah there's so much cheerful and extroverted energy here! The person coming in is definitely a people person, they may love socialising and something about their laugh will stand out, they could like accessorising as well. They're someone who looks towards the brighter side of life, but they may have problems with facing negative emotions, which could lead to toxic positivity to a certain extent. They may also like spoiling their loved ones with gifts, you may work on a project together as well.

Keywords: close, build, seeking answers, paying attention, curiosity, money, status, complacency, love you as a friend, anger, define, allowed, everything, dreams, smooth, why? Far away

Song: Manta Rays - Chloe Moriondo

Pile 2

Ah, okay so this person is probably someone who is mysterious and can come off as deceptive at times. The kind of person you may think is shady or brooding, someone who could be a little more pessimistic. They could be struggling with their mental health and could get stuck in their own head quite a bit, and may have issues with feelings of inadequacy. This friendship may be more for them and less for you, it's giving karmic relationship where you'll help heal them and they'll teach you important lessons. They could be extremely wise beyond their years, but they could have trouble expressing it in a way that doesn't come off as slightly argumentative.

However, your relationship dynamic would be very sweet and promote a lot of growth for the both of you. They may teach you how to stand up for yourself more and take a more realistic approach, maybe you're someone who is more idealistic, they'll help ground you whereas you can teach them how to take it easy and not be very hard on themselves. This would be a very strong bond, they may be someone who believe actions speak louder than words and their love language could be acts of service and physical touch, they would be the kind to ensure your comfort over anything else and could remember small details about you.

Keywords: angry, forgive, camp, dirty shoes, first choice, night conversations, strangers, doubts, imagine, almonds, loneliest, accept myself, worship, passion, devotion, planning.

Song: Wish on the same sky - Monsta X

Pile 3

Oh, this could be someone who you could meet either while travelling or online. They may be different than you in terms of your ideologies, ethnicity, country, etc. They could also be someone who has different ideologies from you and could teach you how to look at things from different perspectives especially if you're more stubborn and set in your own ways. There could be some argumentative energy here, initially there could be a bit of conflict however the both of you will bring balance into each other's lives. They may teach you how to balance your masculine and feminine energies and make them work together rather than focusing on one at a time.

This could prove to be a perfect partnership, probably a long-term friendship as well, this person will be charming and fearless, they could be someone who thinks about consequences after an action been completed, a bit impulsive but it works for them either way. You could think they're really lucky and generous, something about their hair would stand out as well, they could attract big crowds too. Your dynamic would rely a lot on words and communication, maybe you text more than call but they would be big on words of affirmation, the kind to stop you from continuing negative self-talk (if you do talk negatively about yourself).

Keywords: power, universe at play, timing, patience, repression, hunger, senses, hands, drink, forever, exploring, learning, protection, in love, believe, trying, dream girl, boring clothes.

Song: Suburban Wonderland - BETWEEN FRIENDS

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What is the Best Way for YOU to Manifest?

I have been receiving so many notes from yall and there are so many new followers!!! thank you all so much for the love and the affirmation! I really enjoy doing this and it helps me stay in a healthy mindset so I'm glad I can assist others while assisting myself.

In today's reading I am using Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot, The Healing Waters Oracle, and The Starseed Oracle. Take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new perspectives!

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PILE ONE

Astrology: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Vibes: Blue, navy, black, skulls, ice, Hermes, ocean, coast-line, shark teeth, crystal jewelry, castles, olive tree, music, cats, fish, soda, marine life in general, crying, spicy food, hot meal, alternative fashion

Song: Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears

Cards: The Artist, 7 of Cups, Page of Cups, The Ripple Effect, Perspective

Heyooo pile one! Welcome to your reading. The best way yall can manifest is by projecting it out of you. This can be through making art of some kind or just looking at art of what it is that you desire. Either way all you need is to see the desire outside of yourself and it will eventually find its way to you. I see you are quite protective of your desires and it is difficult for you to choose which one you want to manifest most because you want them all so much. You can have them all if you like. You need to admire what you want to manifest. Imagine how you would feel seeing whatever it is in your hands. If it is an object imagine what the texture of it would feel like. What does it look like? Imagine its color. If it is an experience that you wish to manifest imagine how it would feel to experience it. What would your senses take in when you experience it? You know intuitively what it is you want without having it. Doesn't it make sense you would intuitively know what it would be like? The clearer the vision you have, the quicker it will manifest into existence. Just remember anything you wish to manifest is already yours. It has your name written on its spiritual frequency. You just gotta match the frequency. Don't worry about how it will happen. Don't worry about the plan. The universe already knows how it will get to you. You don't have to worry about that part. The details are already taken care of, my dude. Trust the universe.

PILE TWO

Astrology: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Vibes: Green, yellow, white, wild-flowers, children laughing, church bells, lions, eagles, bulls, peanut butter, being barefooted, 222, snakes, curry, ribbons

Song: What I've Got by Sublime

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, 6 of Cups, 2 of Swords, King Tide, Breath of the Cosmos

Hi, pile 2! The best way for you to manifest is through verbal expression. I see many entities watching over you. They wait patiently for you to ask for what you desire. They listen closely to what you truly want. When you ask it must be backed by the desire of your inner child. If it does not align with your inner child's desires the entities might not hear you. The universe wants to cradle your inner child. It coos at them waiting for them to speak. Let your inner baby ask for what it wants. Let them speak. It is common for inner children to be silenced by the world so this might take some convincing. Be patient with them and they will tell your guides everything you truly desire and I swear it'll be dropped in your lap or by your doorstep in no time at all. You must trust your younger self to know what is right. You must trust the universe to deliver it to you. Both of them want you to experience abundance and plenty. Both of them want you to receive the fullness of life. Speak aloud what your younger self wants. Speak it with confidence in the effect it will have on your experience. It must be genuine. Whatever you want is already yours once it is spoken.

PILE THREE

Astrology: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Vibes: Purple, forest green, pink, dogs, umbrellas, door knocker, hibiscus, olives, grapes, plums, violets, pomegranate, venus, 2222, incense smoke, candles, amethyst, cannabis, kayaking, hiking, Saturn

Song: Amethyst by Janine the Machine

Cards: The Fool, The Empress, The Well, Ilse of Avalon, You're Not For Everyone

Pile three, welcome to your reading! The best way for you to manifest is through your actions. I feel how hard you work in my body through the cards. You are far too resilient cus gotdamn your back hurts. Hard work is a way to manifest yes but what might work better for you is to enjoy yourself. By working hard all the time you invite in more work to do. Your actions display your manifestations. If you desire rest and relaxation (which i think you do) then meditation might help you. Do what you enjoy doing. Your physical reality with mirror your mind. Allow your mind to take a break. Embrace what you have wanted to do for a while. I know you have been trying so hard to get the manifestations you desire so deeply. I know those 60 to 80 hour work weeks have been hard on your mind and body. Pamper yourself a little bit. Invite more softenest in. Be willing to receive. Leap into bed, turn on your favorite show, and indulge a little in your favorite snack. Heal your soul. The cards also tell me you are a bit weird and quirky but you hide that a lot. It will help your manifestations come faster if you just embrace your weirdness. Lean into your quirkiness. I feel you are already really connected to Source and Source is where all that we need/desire comes from. You just gotta tap back into that energy again. Wow, okay I think your guides have been telling you to rest for a while. I am hearing them LOUD and CLEAR. They are a little frustrated with you not listening to them. You are pretty stubborn huh? I see you might have hurt yourself at work recently. That was an invitation to rest. Take the invitation, please. I see that if you don't take the invitation now you might be forced to later.

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Vibes: Orange, red, sky blue, lavender, holding hands, hand-shakes, raining when the sun is out, rainbows, martini, fajitas, goblets, queer pride, 1111, throat chakra, oroborous, lotus flower

Song: Dracula from Houston by Butthole Surfers

Cards: The Magician, The Lovers, Ace of Cups, Let It Rain, Water Your Garden

Hey there, pile 4! Welcome to your reading, my friend. The best way you manifest is through communication. It's a bit more specific than that. Specifically when you're communicating in ways that are also taking care of yourself. Some examples of this are journaling, venting to a friend, talking with your lover, setting a boundary or writing letters to a pen pal. When you are verbalizing your desires to your friends be sure you are communicating with those you trust. I also see saying daily affirmations in the mirror would work as well. Which sometimes looks very ritualistic and other times it's you singing a song that makes you feel really positive about yourself in the mirror. Hype yourself up and that is a way to manifest as well. Anything with language involved while you are nourishing your body. I do see it might be difficult for you to gather your thoughts on your own so I do think it would be a bit easier to speak to a trusted advisor. Your words have power. Your language has power. The things that slip from your mouth are magic. Be very intentional about what you say, my dear.

[bi-bard]

Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Fiyero Tigelaar - Fiyero Tigelaar Imagine [Wicked]

Title: Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Fiyero Tigelaar

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar X Reader

Word Count: 3,233 words

Warning(s): argument, yelling

Summary: Three songs by Taylor Swift that would describe a relationship with Fiyero Tigelaar. Features "How Did It End?", "The Alchemy", and "Now That We Don't Talk".

Author's Note: I did get to see Wicked. I really enjoyed it. We're ignoring the plot of it so I can get this story to work.

I also think this is my first piece of fanfiction inspired by Taylor Swift's music since before my little hiatus.

MORE STORIES LIKE THIS!

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How Did It End?

We'll tell no one except all of our friends We must know How did it end?

Leaving Fiyero the first time wasn't easy. It never had been.

It was being ripped away from the best form of comfort I had ever been able to experience. I remember being angry and scared and sad. I yelled at my parents, tried to justify what had happened, tried to explain that my bad choices weren't his fault just because he happened to be with me at the time.

They never believed me. They always saw him as a terrible influence and now they had the evidence to prove it.

Their perspective began to sink in after a matter of months. I found myself becoming increasingly angry with Fiyero, no matter how illogical it felt at first.

Coming to Shiz University felt like it had been a chance to re-center myself. To focus on my future instead of being consistently angry about the past.

But time has a cruel way of making the past relevant in the present.

I had no idea where the rumors about me started. I had no idea who had started the spread of those rumors either.

All I knew was that there was one day where I was living in a quiet peace of being unnoticed and the next, I was being met with strange side glances and whispered conversations about me after I passed.

I tried my best to ignore it. I had hoped it was just my mind attempting to play tricks on me. Maybe they weren't looking at me, but I had just happened to catch their eye. Maybe their whispered conversations were never about me, they just happened to be going on as I walked by.

It wasn't until I met Elphaba in the library that I realized that anything was wrong at all. She had met me with a tight hug, as if softening the blow of something that I didn't realize had hit me.

"What is it," I asked.

"You haven't heard?" she furrowed her eyebrows.

"No... should I be worried?"

"Maybe," she replied, pulling me to sit down next to her. "Someone has started some terrible rumor about you."

I felt my blood freeze for a moment as I realized that my brain hadn't been playing a trick on me. It had been showing me exactly what was truly happening.

"About you and Fiyero," she continued.

I was confused and it must have shown on my face.

"Apparently, your avoidance of him hasn't gone unnoticed... especially after your run-in with him a few days ago," she explained. "I don't know where it started, but there is this story going around that you used to be obsessed with him and his family. Then, your behavior was discovered, and you were sent away. Now, you're avoiding him as a result of your guilt"

"What?" I scoffed. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"Most rumors don't."

"Do people actually believe this stuff?"

"According to my roommate, yes," she confirmed. "A lot of them."

My heart dropped to my stomach and my body suddenly felt like it was burning. It was like a million eyes had all focused on me all at once.

"I tried to tell her the truth, but I have no idea if she believed me or not."

"I'm so sorry..." Elphaba touched my arm.

"I... I just wanted... I feel like a fool."

"You have nothing wrong," she promised, squeezing my arm for comfort.

I tried to grin at her, but my stomach was churning and my head was spinning.

I looked toward the library's entrance just as Fiyero walked in. He had clearly been looking for something. I realized what it was when he met my eyes.

I abruptly stood up, startling Elphaba. "Sorry. I... I need to go. I'll speak to you later. I... I'm sorry."

I quickly walked out of the library, narrowly avoiding Fiyero at the door. I heard his steps behind me.

I weaved in and out of groups of students. My face was on fire as I did. It felt like every single pair of eyes were on me at once and it was beginning to bury me.

If Fiyero had tried to call my name, I couldn't hear him. Or maybe my brain had just tuned him out in the hopes of getting me to go a little faster. I didn't fully comprehend him saying anything until we were in the hallway to my dorm.

"(Y/n)!" he called. "Please, just wait for a moment!"

"Just leave me alone," I muttered, trying to move even faster than before.

"If you would just listen to me for one moment, then I can explain that I had nothing to do with any of this-"

"Leave me alone!" I shouted, sharply turning on my heels to face Fiyero. "This is all you have done our entire lives! I face the consequences for the actions you have done! You made a scene and now I am left looking like a monster! Have you not done enough to ruin any future I had? This is why my parents wanted me so far away from you in the first place!"

"I thought... I thought your parents found new work-"

"Yes, they very suddenly found new work right after you managed to get me kicked out of the best school that I could have gone to in my situation," my voice was sarcastic. "Very believable."

"(Y/n)-"

"Leave me alone!" I snapped again. My voice dropped. Anger turning into pleading. "Please. You've done enough harm."

"(Y/n), please-"

I stepped back into my room, slamming and locking the door behind me.

I stood in the center of the room. I didn't know what else to do or where to go. I was just left there, crying as I tried to figure out what could possibly go wrong next.

The Alchemy

Ditch the clowns, get the crown, baby, I'm the one to beat 'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

It was really nice to find myself with a close friend after all this time.

It was like having a safety net. Someone that I could follow into all sorts of previously scary situations with the knowledge that if I fell on my face, I wouldn't be doing it alone.

I kept having to repeat that thought over and over as I walked with Elphaba to the doors of the Ozdust Ballroom. I had been avoiding this place long before I had an actual good reason to. Large crowds had never really been my thing, so if I could avoid them, I was going to.

"We don't have to go," I said, stopping in my tracks. "We could go have a great night... somewhere else."

"Now, that doesn't follow your usual speech about fear not holding power unless you give it power," she chuckled at me.

"I made that speech long before... you know what happened."

Her face turned into a look of pity as she took my hand and squeezed it. "Be brave on my behalf then, instead of your own."

"Alright," I mumbled.

Her arm locked with mine as we walked toward the doors again.

The entire building was buzzing. The energy seemed to move from one person to another like everyone was connected through some kind of wire.

I spotted Galinda across the room. She was trying to wave down Elphaba. I pointed to her, holding back a chuckle at how she flailed her arms.

"You can go," I said.

"Are you sure?"

"I will be just fine," I promised. "And I will come and find you if something happens."

She nodded and dropped my arm. I grinned as she walked to her roommate. It was nice to see that they had seemingly developed some kind of connection since beginning to live together. They were good for each other. I could see it.

I continued down the steps. I took some comfort in the fact that nothing stopped as people noticed me. Some people glanced at me and muttered something to whoever they were with but still continued to enjoy their night without me interrupting.

I reached the bottom step without feeling like a complete nuisance.

And then, Fiyero spotted me. He was the first to completely stop when he saw me. I stopped too.

It seemed to cause a wave to ring through the room as more and more people stopped. He started navigating through the crowd of people, which was only causing more people to stop and look at where he was heading.

I should have run away. Turned around and walked outside and left everyone to enjoy their night, but I couldn't. Something stopped me where I was as if I had been physically stuck to the stairs.

The music stopping made my stomach lurch. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. I just wanted to come out and enjoy myself. I wanted to be able to ignore the eyes that could have landed on me. Now, I was left with no choice other than to hear the hushed and panicked conversations between other students as Fiyero weaved through the rest of the crowd.

The room was silent by the time Fiyero had stopped in front of me. In everyone else's mind, I'm sure it was a frightening sight. They were all prepared for the worst. I knew that much.

Maybe they were better off than I was. They had a clear image of how this interaction could go; I had no idea at all.

I tried to remain tall and stoic. Shoulders rolled back and my back straight. Chin held up as if I had something to take pride in.

"I'm sorry," Fiyero said after a moment. It cut through the tense silence like shears through fabric.

I didn't respond. Not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't.

I still felt some part of me yelling for me to turn around and walk away.

But still, some other part of me told me to just stay because running would do nothing to help me anymore.

"About everything," he continued. "You were right. I have dragged you through mess after mess and I'm sorry. I don't know how that story about you started."

I felt my chest tighten slightly at the mention. Fiyero turned to the crowd that had gathered.

"None of what you have been told was true," he announced. There was some murmuring. "That is all you deserve to know."

He turned back to me. I finally found the ability to speak again, "Thank you."

"You have no reason to forgive me," he said. "None at all, but I would enjoy being in your company again, if you will allow it."

I took a deep breath, letting my shoulders drop a bit before I started nodding. "I think that would be nice."

A smile broke out on his face before he hugged me tightly. I let out a small, shocked sound as he did. I was a little nervous that he was going to pull me off the step. As I stepped back, I looked out into the crowd, who was still standing and watching us.

I heard some particularly loud muttering to the side of the crowd. I looked over to see Galinda and Elphaba clearly in a heated discussion. Well, more Galinda was clearly very passionate about something and Elphaba was trying to get her to lower her voice.

"Will you stop shushing me," Galinda asked, swatting away Elphaba's hand that was trying to touch her arm.

"You are not very good at whispering," Elphaba explained.

"I'm just saying that after all of this, I was expecting them to finally kiss-" she glanced around at the eyes that had landed on her. I was now aware of just how much my dear friend had let slip to her roommate. "Oh..."

"Do you understand what I was saying now?"

"Sorry, continue, please," she motioned to Fiyero and me.

I found myself chuckling over the entire interaction. Fiyero looked at me, seemingly finding some relief or comfort or just joy in my laugh. I don't know if I had ever seen him be quiet for so long. I was about to question it before he abruptly grabbed my hand and led me back up the stairs that I had just barely made it down.

He didn't stop until we had rounded the corner. We were out of sight of the doorway now. Alone... for now, at least.

"I would apologize for that, but I think it would start to make the words seem meaningless," Fiyero said.

"Probably," I agreed.

There was a pause between us. For all the tension that had been alleviated, it still felt like there was still so much.

"I lied," he muttered after a moment. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "About your hair. It doesn't make your face look weird."

"Thank you?" I laughed a little as I spoke.

Fiyero smiled at me for a moment just like he had been before we had left the Oz Dust. As my chuckling died down a bit, he leaned forward. He kissed me gently as his hands touched my sides. My arms wrapped around his neck as I started kissing him back.

When he pulled back, he didn't move far. It felt like his hold on me only tightened, as if he was scared that I was going to be pulled away from him again. His eyes were closed, face close to mine.

"Fiyero..."

His eyes opened before he spoke, "I've missed you."

I smiled. "I missed you too."

He slowly stepped back, grabbing my hand and beginning to pull me along with him.

"Where are we going," I asked.

"No idea," he shrugged. "You know that I prefer it that way."

I didn't respond, instead just allowing him to pull me along with him. Maybe I could enjoy that way of thinking for a little while too.

Now That We Don't Talk

I miss the old ways, you didn't have to change But I guess I don't have a say Now that we don't talk

I was a child.

I was simply a tall child carrying around books just so I could look like some semblance of a student at Shiz.

At least, that's how it felt when I found myself scrambling from one place to another as soon as Fiyero happened to waltz into the room.

The first time it happened, I had been with Elphaba. We were discussing our essay for Dr. Dillamond's class when I spotted Fiyero from across the quad.

My feet froze, my heart stopped, my eyes went wide. I had completely stopped functioning.

"(Y/n)?" Elphaba touched my arm, trying to shake me out of my panicked state.

And then, Fiyero's eyes met mine.

I abruptly grabbed Elphaba's hand, dragging her with me in the opposite direction of the crowd that was gathering around my old friend.

"(Y/n), what's happening?"

"Nothing, nothing," I explained quickly. "Just want to take a new route. Adventure and discovery and avoiding the large crowd."

She stopped us both, looking at me with nothing other than pure worry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Because I think I have," I muttered. "I'm sorry, Elphaba, I really am. I will explain everything soon enough, but I need you to just trust me for now. Please."

She merely nodded and let me continue pulling her with me.

After that day, I made a point to avoid Fiyero at all costs. It was the only choice I really had at the time. I had no interest in drudging up old memories and avoiding him was the only way to truly avoid that.

That's not to say that he never knew I was there. He had spotted me more than once. The only job then would be to get out of the given area before he has a chance to say a single word to me.

Elphaba was more than willing to help with my little escape routes.

I truly thought that I was doing fine.

And then, I stepped out of class and straight into his line of sight.

I think he had been waiting for me. He had no books or notes or anything. He was just there, leaning against the door frame.

I froze for a few moments, my feet becoming stone.

Fiyero's eyes lit up when he saw me in front of him. "I knew it!"

I turned around abruptly, starting to quickly walk down the hall in the other direction. I knew that this building was a circle. I just had to move quickly.

"Wait, wait!"

I did not wait. I had a matter of seconds to track down Elphaba and use her as an excuse for why I was simply too busy to stop and chat with an old friend.

I managed to make a full circle, so focused on checking how far Fiyero was behind me that I didn't notice what was in front of me until I ran into it headfirst.

"I'm sorry-" my words fell flat when I saw I had run into Fiyero. "Oh."

"Hello, (Y/n)" he said as he smiled at me. "I thought that was you."

"Fiyero." I nodded awkwardly, tapping my fingers against my books. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know me," he shrugged. "Having the time of my life."

"Easy when everyone fawns over you," I replied.

"Oh absolutely," he agreed, his expression changing to show his amusement.

He really hadn't changed much since I saw him last. The same attitude and annoyingly convincing charm. Everything about him was exaggerated. It was almost endearing but mostly infuriating.

I saw his eyes bounce along my features. From my eyes to my hair to the rest of my face and body. He was never one for subtly. I always thought it bored him.

His eyes went back to my hair. "When did you change your hair?"

"Some time ago." I kept my answers purposely vague. Unlike him, I had changed. My openness was one of the many victims of the process.

He pouted, looking away from me like a toddler. "I don't like it. Makes your face look weird."

I scoffed at him. "Mature. Good thing you have no right to an opinion on my appearance."

"(Y/n)!" I looked over as Elphaba called my name. I didn't wait to say goodbye to Fiyero before going to meet her and let her drag me away from the scene.

"I owe you," I promised. Since my first incident with Fiyero, I had told her the entire story. She wasn't impressed with him.

"Getting to see the look on his face as you walked away was good enough for me."

I chuckled. There was a pause as we walked before I spoke up again, "Do you like my hair?"

"What?"

"Do you like my hair the way it is?"

"I think it's nice."

"It doesn't make my face look weird?"

"Not at all," she stopped and stepped in front of me. "Please, don't let that boy get in your head. You've worked hard enough to keep him out."

I nodded. "I won't."

It was unfortunate that I had already broken that promise.

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[anthurak]

I’ve seen some discussion on how we’re likely to get an Octavia song next episode based on this trailer clip we haven’t seen yet (which I very much agree with), and specifically a lot of discussion/assumption about the song being a duet with Stolas.

Now I will say, it is certainly entirely possible that this is what we wind up seeing.

Buuuttt… I can’t help but think it would be more INTERESTING if this was in fact a SOLO Octavia song.

One of the more subtle details about Octavia’s character and a major factor in her dysfunctional relationship with her father is that it seems that Stolas (almost certainly completely unintentionally mind you) has made Octavia almost entirely emotionally dependent on him.

Looking back at both Loo Loo Land and The Circus, it’s pretty clear that for most of the past 19 years, Octavia was the ONLY THING Stolas really cared about. Making sure she was safe, cared for and happy, that was the only thing in Stolas’ life that mattered to him. Likely the only thing he was really even living for.

But again, I imagine that this absolute devotion to his daughter has had the unintended side-effect of making Octavia entirely emotionally reliant on her father.

Not just in the specific cases of Octavia being fairly sheltered and likely unaware of the true context and details of her father’s abusive marriage (which could in turn make it easier for her mother and uncle to manipulate Octavia), but more generally making Stolas not just Octavia’s father, but also basically her only FRIEND.

Which in turn does a lot to explain how and why Stolas has become such a complete and total fuckup of a father to Octavia ever since reuniting with and starting his affair with Blitzo. Stolas had spent the last 17 years caring and even just living for ONE thing; his daughter and her happiness. But then without any warning, Stolas suddenly finds himself caring about someone ELSE. Not just caring, but being completely head-over-heels in LOVE with someone in a way he never thought he could love someone else.

And it’s been abundantly clear for a while now that Stolas had absolutely no fucking idea HOW to properly emotionally process ANY of this.

So is it really so surprising that we’ve seen this recurring trend across the entire show of Stolas completely forgetting about Octavia whenever Blitzo-related shenanigans/bullshit are afoot? He’s spent so long caring about just ONE thing in his whole life that he doesn’t know HOW to balance two things mattering so much to him. So he’s essentially just been flip-flopping between caring ONLY about Octavia, and ONLY about Blitzo.

At least until he threw away everything to save Blitzo… including Octavia.

Which of course in turn gives Octavia EVERY reason to believe that her father is/has abandoned her and doesn’t care about her anymore. She has gone her entire life being the ONLY thing her father cares about to all of a sudden… NOT being the only thing. Even worse is the fact that her father is doing a really shitty job of processing and managing all this so to Octavia it feels like he’s completely forgetting all about her to be with this weird red dickhead. And the worst part is, she’s not entirely WRONG in this belief either. Of course it also doesn’t help that Stolas seems to have been completely unwilling or unable to actually explain what’s going on from his perspective to his daughter.

So to circle back around to where we started; considering how a core part of Octavia’s character and story has been grappling with the fact that she is not a child anymore, I have a feeling that a big part of Octavia’s character going forward could be her learning how to be independent of the father she’s been entirely reliant on her whole life.

We’ve already gotten a lot of hints that we’ll be seeing Octavia inherit Stolas’s power and status and succeed her father as a Goetic Prince. Combined with how it’s pretty clear Stolas has a LOT of work to do in reconciling with his daughter and figuring out how to balance his care for her and his love for Blitzo, I think it’s very plausible that we see Octavia learning how to be more emotionally independent of her father as well.

So I think it’s rather interesting to imagine this starting with Octavia specifically getting a solo-song number in Sinsmas, rather than a duet with her father. Representing how she is starting to learn how to stand on her own.

Of course, Octavia getting a solo-number next episode is what I think would be interesting to see.

If we want to talk about what I’m HOPING we see, well…

Imagine Octavia getting a duet with Loona.

And the best part is that I would even call this plausible, and ties back to what we saw between Octavia and Loona in Seeing Stars.

Because a subtle yet major idea of that episode wound up being that while Stolas, Blitzo and the M&Ms all got sidetracked and distracted from their search for Octavia by various shenanigans and bullshit, it was actually LOONA who tracked down and helped Octavia.

It wasn’t her father who wound up giving Octavia the advice, closure and comfort she so desperately needed at the end of the episode. But instead a young woman not so different from Octavia who could deeply understand and relate to the problems she was dealing with. I think it’s fair to say that in this episode, Loona became Octavia’s first real FRIEND who wasn’t her father.

And I both think and hope that this is going to wind up being VERY important.

[fatesundress]

⭑ life of the party. tom riddle x reader

summary. when one game is ruined, another begins.

tags. explicitly fem afab reader, smut with as minimal plot as i can physically allow myself, minors SCRAMMM, loosely implied hogwarts university au as always, flirting via mutually assured jealousy, impeccable communication skills, established relationship, the guy the reader is talking to gets annoyed she doesn’t want him but he doesn’t do anything, religious undertones that might have accidentally become overtones, party setting (background drinking & general degeneracy), probably the meanest tom i’ll ever write and i still tried making him nice, fingering, piv, a little degradation but that's life, fawwwk the weeknd but the song this is based on is so sexy, etc

note. Me writing this: nightguard: ON, religious themes: RIFE, shame: ABOUNDING. i am so embarrassed by this. have i mentioned smut doesn’t come naturally to me? i don’t even know how i got here. i’m on heelys at the proverbial skatepark and everyone else apprenticed under tony hawk. Do you understand? ok.

word count. 4.5k

request. yes!

He is what he is. Stoic, sacred, silent and then verbose. You knew he had his fixations before you knew him at all — no one made top of every class without a shadow of obsession to contrast the glint of their excellence — but you could not anticipate how that obsession might translate when applied to a person. You’re not sure he had either.

He is what he is. The muggle world taught him religion and in it he learned only the tenor of devotion. When his fingers take your jaw, trace slow at the stripes of your thighs, steady your hips from under you and hold tight, there’s reverence in it. His kisses don’t wane with the months gone by; they soften with purpose. They rouse with hunger. His eyes don’t waver. Should a good man gaze upon his altar? Should he smile like sin when he gets on his knees? 

He does.

Tom Riddle is what he is and you solemnise in equal part.

You don’t come to these things often, taken aback by the sight of the Slytherin common room in ribbons and banners tattered within the first hour of the night. Bottles glow green in the lake-light on every available surface, scattered about the place and spilled in sticky puddles. 

You’re a wallflower tonight, though not for lack of options. You observe from a comfortable distance the drunken antics of new adults, free to carry their liquor in hand rather than hidden away in pockets and pillowcases. There’s something vaguely entertaining about it, intoxicating where someone else might mind their business and actually get intoxicated, but you see no harm done. Whispers fall on your ears before the rumours make their rounds, couples slink away in the darkness where someone in the crowd might not notice, and the night’s first instance of someone hurrying up the stairs in tears comes barrelling right past you. You invent a story for why to keep yourself busy. 

It’s all just buzz.

Now, if you don’t come often, he certainly doesn’t.

Tonight, he has, and for reasons explicable but few, you’ve found yourselves on opposite sides of the room.

It began on the green couch by the window with a chess set spilled across the velvet — a bet you made with him upon arrival; you find wizard’s chess trite, Tom finds it feckless, but it makes for a good challenge. 

What else could convince a man so perpetually controlled to pour himself a drink? And you imagine, from his perspective: what else could convince a woman so determined to outwit him?

It’s for no nefarious reason — to slight him or see him stumble — but because you love the fractions of relief that colour him, soften him, temper him. It’s because he loves you in every shade, in every pliancy, in each and every fervour. But mostly it’s because you love kindly to best him, and he loves mirthfully to best you.

So you play. The game is slow and teasing, hard to see in the ripples of the lake, and toppled over in the final moves (which you’ll insist you were winning) by the same swaying body that spills its drink down the front of your dress. And so you’re up, brushing your index finger over the corner of Tom’s sudden scowl. You whisper like a joke not to kill anyone but he’s so quick to look like he might that you consider repeating yourself with more conviction.

You poke at the spot where his jaw is tense. “I’ll be right back.”

Drying liquor from lace is a matter of precision even with magic, and this is half-gelatinous like someone raided the kitchen’s supply of jelly and steeped it in something offensively alcoholic. You utilise the clearer light of the Slytherin girl’s lavatory, wetting your dress before evaporating the water from it. There’s the matter then of transforming the stained fabric back to its original colour, and you huff in the mirror at having a game you thought you didn’t care much for ruined so close to its end.

You care about Tom, though. The omphalos of your issue resides there.

(It is fair to say most of your issues reside there.)

With only minutes gone by, the common room crowd looks doubled when you return, and though you wade through you’re pushed back like debris caught in a tide, the bodies more stubborn rubble than you. So you retreat, stand flush at the wall with your arms crossed, and wait for Tom’s eyes to land on yours. To, perhaps, open your mind and let him in, tell him exhaustedly from afar that the game is at rest and you’re ready to leave.

But even he’s hard to find in the bodies unified in breath, flux like a big set of lungs —  and nothing about Tom blurs into the background.

So you wait. You wallflower. You pour yourself a drink.

The moment stretches on longer than anticipated, and after many detached observations of the room, someone else finds you instead. He’s tall, blond to Tom's inkwell black, kissed by summer sun even as autumn soothes its blister. Your gaze wavers back to him a few times though his own is uncertain for all its focus. He seems to be waiting for you to stop, perhaps for the silhouette of someone else to slip by and prove you were looking at them instead. When no one else comes, he traverses the crowd with a straightened inch of pride, stepping through new colours until he’s close enough to you that the light settles emerald-black and you can see the great chasm of his beauty up close. 

His freckles are carefully dusted, his structure strong, all squarish, rugged lines and shades of August.

The chasm is not a lack of allure, per se, it’s just a lack of him. One man’s August to your adherent’s December, the intention of his warmth, a thing that does not come to him like everything else but that he makes and makes and mends when it lapses because he does not want to see you cold. The singular reward of a rarity like that.

“Hi," you say, glancing over a broad shoulder.

“Evening," he responds. He takes you in with a look of (unappreciated) appreciation. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No, we haven’t.”

He extends a hand. “Oliver Belby.”

“Pleasure.”

You don't offer much in the way of conversation. He’ll vie for your attention regardless of how much of it you offer. So you lean against the wall where the buzz of sound prickles your hair, let him talk, let his hand come up to rest beside your head, and you find Tom.

He’s right where you left him, a new clearing in the crowd making space for your eyes to meet.

His are ice even at a distance. As if you proselytise — as if you could — kneel for another man or let one kneel before you, all of your trysts together faithless.

They aren’t. He must know they aren’t.

But you put yourself here and standing at the target of his gaze has never been marred by the severity of it.

You decide then; when one game is ruined, another begins.

In truth, you can’t deny the element of theatrics in the way Tom denies everyone but you: his soft, penitent smile, the apologetic cant of his head, how his eyes can find you in any crowd and whoever is clinging onto his every word that night will follow his gaze and deflate when they discover you at the end of it. Sometimes it’s harsh. Final. He lacks the patience of pretence. 

Sometimes, the week is dull. Sometimes, the whoever is undeterred. Sometimes you’ve pushed him here. 

No — You’ve never done that before. This is new.

So it’s one of those weeks, and one of those whoevers, on an anomaly you may as well have directed the encounter yourself, and Tom is half-indulgent as he forces his eyes away and you force yours to stay. 

You watch him from across the room as the woman drapes herself across the arm of his chair. There's a furious blush on her cheeks even in the dark, a pretty disarray to her shoulder-length hair, skirts pleated over knees she faces toward him. She smiles and offers him a glass of something, and you know for certain Tom understands this game because he accepts it, eyes flicking back to you as he swirls the glass in contest. 

To that you take an inappreciable sip of your own.

“ — Which is why no one has even attempted to kill one in decades. And capturing one is another thing entirely. My mother works with the Greeks on occasion, and the nearest she came to a den was in the twenties. If she had gone any nearer I wouldn’t be here.”

“Hm?” You look back at the man in front of you. His lips glisten with having licked them between every phrase.

“The manticores,” he says, undeterred.

“Right. Five-X beasts, aren’t they?”

“That’s what I said. I heard from one of my mother’s colleagues that — ”

The woman is whispering something in Tom’s ear, her hair on his cheek. He’s looking at you as if you had said the words. You don't shy away when Oliver leans in to whisper too. It's a strange, fractured language. Too intimate while too detached. Whispers from across the room, desire from another in the place of desire for each other. But the strangeness should not surprise you anymore. This is Tom: beautiful and wicked and the one you chose.

“ — And Nundus are worse. Deadliest creature there is — ”

She’s laughing about something, the woman. Half-reserved, she’s angled toward the party despite her leaning on his shoulder and the dissipating inches of distance.

“ — They stalk in silence. Think of the size of one, right? They’re apex predators… so commanding and still they could be in front of you one instant and gone the next.”

You engage with detached interest. “Really?”

And now Oliver barricades your view, his other hand coming to rest on your other shoulder.

“Do we have any classes together?”

You blink up at him. “No.”

“No, right,” he says, eyes darting to your lips. “I’d remember you.” 

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you wonder if for some men one-sided discussions of class five beasts qualify as foreplay.

You place a hand on his chest, eyebrows raised and half a startled smile curled. 

“You’re not going to kiss me," you inform him.

His face falls, but with it, at least, does his hand.

“Did you hear me?"

“It’s loud,” he decides suddenly. “Can we go somewhere else?”

You’re not sure you believe that. 

You duck under an arm and search the crowd again. The woman is on the arm of the chair looking thoroughly dismayed, and for good reason —

Tom is gone. 

Your breath is caught.

“This isn’t… You’re not going to…?”

You flash Oliver with a glare. “So you did hear me.”

He makes a pathetically sad face, and you think: it’s a wonder he made it this far when his courtship evidently hinges on the subject of his affection not listening to a word out of his mouth.

“Goodnight, Oliver,” you say tersely.

“What was that for, then?” he asks, and it comes out practically whined.

“That was talking.”

“But you’re —”

“Belby.”

He is what he is. It shouldn’t surprise you when he appears beside you all fatal rage on a quiet lead, narrowly fixed to you. 

Tom’s cold is his median temperature, yes, but in moments like this it’s as much for you as his handmade warmth. He’d pluck the fingers off a boy like Oliver. The digits would string eaves like icicles.

Oliver is looking between you and Tom like something terrible has dawned on him, hands urged to his pockets to soothe the flames your unveiled ties to a man seemingly singed him with.

“Riddle — Mate, I didn’t… I didn’t know she was…”

Tom’s voice is flat, edged with something that makes his monotony sound merciful. “Pity. If only you knew as much as you talked.”

Oliver’s mouth opens and closes and opens again, but wisely he settles on silence instead of excuses, and wastes no time fleeing slowly into the crowd. 

The instant he's stolen by the wave Tom's eyes are on yours and they’re molten. You move to say something but his patience was for show — he’s dragging you by the arm out of the common room and into one of the dungeon's empty classrooms without giving you the chance.

“Tom —" You start to protest, mouth twisted in a scowl. “Tom, you're being —"

He shuts the door behind you and locks it with such delicacy your breath catches at the question of how badly he's holding himself back right now.

“I'm being what?"

“You're…" It's hard to formulate an answer when he's like this. “It was a game. Don’t pretend you weren’t playing too."

Tom inches in, chest rising with angry breaths. “A game, was it? Did he know that?"

“Did she?” you hiss.

“It certainly became apparent when she was discarded so that I might retrieve you.”

“It was as apparent to Belby, judging by the way he was left gawking.”

“And with great restraint I let him. A mercy I didn’t take his eyes so he was left without the ability.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now I understand; the problem wasn’t the game, it’s that I played it better than you.”

He looks at you for a long time before casting a silencing charm on the room.

Oh.

Oh — your heart barrels off somewhere. You’re without it for a moment, breathless in the wake of the implication of a spell like that.

“Tom," you say politically, “It was hardly a matter of rescuing.”

He nods imperceptibly. “No, it wasn’t.”

“So we’re in agreement.”

He hums a non-answer.

Each step he takes forward, you take back. It's a peculiar way to have a conversation, but part of the game, you suppose.

Interesting he’s still playing.

You still gasp when you inevitably hit the wall, hands going to the carved edge of a windowsill.

“You’re terrible when you win,” he whispers. His lips brush your ear.

You shudder, mouth dry as you press against his shoulder. “You’re worse when you lose.”

His mouth drags down your jaw but he refuses to kiss you, still withholding something, still holding back in some terrible, electrifying way. Instead one of his hands starts to dip down your side. You shiver as he grazes the skin of your breast, exposed by the cut of your dress, and continues down your waist. His mouth traces your bare shoulder as his tongue makes a slow pass, skin beneath leaping at his careful ministrations.

With long, slender fingers he's pulling your dress off button by button, torturously slow, and you feel mocked to have cleaned it earlier. You feel foolish to have left knowing the night would have ended like this regardless.

“Tom,” you say. His name is followed by staggered breaths. Your fingers are clutching the windowsill.

The air is thick as he watches you, flesh exposed by each undone catch. And still he will not kiss you, even as his lips trail along your collarbone and you start to tug instinctively at his belt. He makes the barest sound of disapproval and spins you to face the window, your hands urged on instinct to press against the glass.

“Tom...”

He hikes your dress up your thighs. It clings to your hips, a meagre two buttons left attached to keep it from falling.

Your wand clatters as his fingers work the clasp of your bra and his teeth skim your shoulder, leaving little bites he laves at softly with his tongue. You shudder, arching into him, searching for friction. His touch traverses the shape of you and stops feather-light between your legs.

“Tom —”

“Quiet," he admonishes, a little tut.

Your skin jumps at the caress of his fingers tracing deceptively timid up your thighs, like he hasn’t done this before, like it’s care and not punishment. His favourite oxymoron: the gentlest torture, the cruelest succour.

His index draws upon the lace of your underwear and tugs it aside with a tenderness that makes you gasp. Is there a way to press harder to the glass without breaking it? Is there ever enough to grab onto when he gets like this — so singularly focused on ruining you? 

One of your hands latches onto the arm half-disappeared in your skirts instead, clinging steadfast to the white of its sleeve, your body swaying as if at sea. He keeps you steady, but this is his crown achievement: that he is all there is that can do it when you’re so singularly focused on being ruined by him.

The sinews of his forearm work imperceptibly under your fingers as he appreciates the newly unfettered flesh, two digits sliding between your legs, and he makes a satisfied sound against your shoulder at the wetness he finds there. 

You’re swallowing air with a moan stuck in your throat; too dry, you realise, and feel like you’re choking when he starts to move, gripping his arm somehow tighter.

As a rule, you know how much he loves this, but it’s tenfold under his jealousy and you think deliriously, probably wrongly, that for how much he enjoys pushing you you enjoy pushing him to get here. You’re his and he’s yours, there’s no doubt in it — but what he can reduce you to — this desperate creature, writhing and panting, trying in vain to satiate herself with a simple finger — this is the translation; the fruition of his fixations put to a person rather than a subject. This is what it is to be his.

Tom’s mouth opens in a smile at your throat, and there it feels more like bared teeth, a smile that is as animal as it is pretty. 

And still he whispers with all the affection of a lover, your name peppered between kisses.

His fingers inch inside you and curl. You’re wedged in the perfect balance of his discrepancy; your disciple and your devil. He worships you in white. He ruins you in it too.

Now his name comes out in a babble, wet, half-drooled. A nip pinches the little space beneath your ear and you clutch impossibly harder to his wrist, your free hand squeaking down the window pane as you grind on his palm. He crooks his fingers against a spot that has you seeing stars, thumb pressed to your clit in a subtle motion, and you feel yourself tip off into an unknown he aquaints you with often. In a blurry, flickering moment, the light gleams somewhere beyond the stained hues of the window. And that should be it. The edge is at your heels and you should be falling. But the sinful press of him at your back commands you to lurch against him, and when you moan for more he pulls his fingers free.

You stumble weakly into his chest, startled.

“What… What?”

“Ask me for it,” he says, his voice hoarse, markedly wanton in spite of himself. But there is hunger and there is greed. There’s a sacrificial lamb and there’s a hunted one— there’s religion and there’s Tom. He invents something that demands greater devotion.

And the sound of leather rasping serge and metal clinking metal reels your conscience in. There are no stars. There’s just him. His belt is coming undone.

“Tom.” You swallow. “I told you —”

“And I want you to ask.” He cups your jaw in his hand, thumb tracing your lower lip. “Nicely.”

Your mouth opens for him and you shiver, pressing further back for contact he doesn’t allow. Instead another small tut is whispered at your neck, relinquished to a kiss.

His finger brushes your teeth when you speak. “I want you.”

You feel him shake his head and you all but whine.

“I want you inside, Tom — need you — please.”

“Please?” he echoes mockingly.

“Please,” you say in an uneven voice, and when your tongue grazes his thumb he eases it further into your mouth with an appeased hum.

And so his zipper comes down and you hold your breath with the weight of your dress at your hips.

He pushes inside you with minimal pause, slow still, to relish the way your little pants hitch, stop, and shudder out in a broken moan; the way your breath is guided by his rhythm, how you’re shaped by him, fitted around him. You careen forward and your palms flatten on the window, trembling at the first thrust. Your fingers quiver down the glass.

Tom pulls you into him on the second, patience abandoned. His lips chase your pulse. His grip on your jaw tightens as his thumb pops free with a string of spit. He nudges deeper at a new angle, your body forced as far as it can lean back, gasping heavenward when your head falls helplessly onto his shoulder.

It’s profane. Your ears almost dull to the sound of his hips snapping against yours, the obscenity of your skin on what he offers of his, but you waver between earth and something else, brought back to him by the torturous sight of the edge he stole you from. Always brought back to him. 

He’s gripping your jaw in one hand as he pushes deeper, and your fingers are lost for purchase on his forearms, trembling to hold onto something.

When he pulls out of you at your brink again, you practically cry out. But you understand when he spins you around again, hiking you up against the windowsill, your shoulders hitting the cool glass with a gasp you barely register in the fog of your desperation. His eyes are dilated to midnight rings. The weight of his desire is frightening. The insistence to claim you better yet.

He wastes no time before slamming into you again, pausing at the hilt to watch your eyebrows wrench together before resuming his pace. When your mouth falls open, he swallows the noise that tries to come out of it.

It doesn’t feel like a kiss. It feels like the prolusion to a bite.

His fervour is all the reminder of how you got here in the first place; the teeth, the force, the grip on your waist. There’s a rough sound he makes in your mouth that you taste more than you hear. The vibration of him is everywhere. You’re too hot and it only occurs to you because your fingers are clawing at fabric instead of skin that he’s fully dressed and your last button has finally snapped, lace pooled on the classroom floor as he fucks you. The thought is consigned to oblivion as quickly as it came. It doesn't matter.

You're clutching at his shoulders, the nape of his neck — trying to kiss him back, but you feel torn in two by the intensity of his ministrations, a low, immolating pressure building in your abdomen. He’s proving something with you, and his is a relentless, unending appetite. You don't really stand a chance. You think you've known that from the start.

Tom is all-consuming. Tom is a force of nature, a whirlwind that sweeps over you. He leaves you breathless and somehow needing more as he wraps his hand around the small of your back and seizes you in place.

Still you find yourself wanting to be held tighter.

“T-Tom —" you sob through the kiss but he doesn't give you enough air to do it. He pushes harder, a rasp at the back of his throat, some carnal thing. He’s not withholding your release now; he’s spurring you towards it.

When he withdraws his lips from yours, his brows are furrowed in concentration. There’s a fine lustre of sweat on his forehead, stray curls pulled across dark, wicked eyes. The sight of him alone is condemnable, but it isn’t for you.

He likes to watch you like this. When your moans dissolve to the torn syllable of his name, again and again. The veneration. Your choked litanies.

You give them to him.

Sleeves drawn up by your body’s baser instinct for skin, you’ve carved a canvas of praise into his arms, marked up to his elbows where your fingers had jerked upward to rake at his back. This time, when you find the cliffside, nothing stops you from teetering off its edge. Flames dance across your skin in an explosion, your collar damp and bitten, your waist in Tom’s vice-like grip. One hard thrust and you’re falling.

The stars are blinding. You decide then they were made by him.

Your head lulls back as shocks of pleasure course through your body, the coil snapped, the hard shape of him inside you demanding impossibly for more. You stumble through the light, vision blurred, praying and praying and praying. His grip comes to find your jaw again.

You keen, addled through the ecstasy, barely conscious of the way his panted breaths hitch at the sight of you in his hands, soft-eyed and puddy.

He always comes apart soon after you, but it happens rarely that your body is so taut on the wire of rapture that his twitching inside you takes you with him. 

This time it does.

You sink against him, thighs numb and wet, one hand slipping dumbly from his figure and swiping across condensation-foggy glass. The second orgasm is an aftershock of the first. It’s slow. It feels like being caught from the last fall. You land in Tom’s arms and they’re holding you through whitened knuckles. His eyelashes flutter, ink-dipped twines of quills, and he steals the shaky sigh from your mouth by pressing it to his.

You kiss lazily and softly. The room feels sheeted in static. The electricity lingers on both of you.

It’s hard not to fall against the window when he slides out of you. You slump on quivering legs into his chest instead, heaving, spend trickling down your legs.

Tom holds you close, adjusting his trousers before sinking down to settle you on his lap. He wipes the sweat from your face and presses his lips to the feverish skin it plastered. Forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, whispers of your name down your jaw like a prayer answered. Your eyelids flutter shut and he kisses you there, too. His lashes tickle.

You love him more than you worship him. You think he likes that more.

He grabs your forsaken dress from the floor and slips it over your bare shoulders, summoning the snapped button back in place before he begins to meticulously clasp the rest together again. His mouth leaves a path at the skin under each one before it closes, and you hum in dizzy gratitude.

“That was,” you say in a very worn voice, “a terrible way to reinforce not making you jealous.”

He glares at you from one of the lowermost buttons and you giggle sleepily, curling a hand into his hair. “Don’t look at me like that. You liked it too.”

He leans back up at that, tipping your chin with his fingers, gaze darting over the wrecked state of you with a pleased gleam in his eyes. “You liked it? What a modest interpretation.”

Now it’s your turn to glare.

He is what he is — pursuit of buttons forgotten as you’re laid down on the moonlit floor to be reminded just how much you liked it.

taglist. @lyis @indimoss @poddzi @esolean @d1anna @maripositanoctruna @mentally-in-northern-italy @ronniemaximoff1234 @moobell55 @jaerang @ramayantika @saltwaterbythesea @acube07 @togenabi @adazito @kitcat334 @blaurghhh @shutupfinn @jaymeeshayden @lilu842 @leaosee @garfunkelworld @definitely-not-captain-america @multiplefandomstan @mangoesareorange [ note: inexplicably, a bunch of my tags aren't working. i tried to fix it but if you didn’t get a notif i’m sorry! ]

[mypoisonedvine]

Have you seen Peacock yet? In love with the idea of Yandere!John and Yandere!Emma keeping you as their pet. They both love you so much. Emma’s a softer yan but she still doesn’t want to let you go. 🥰🥰🥰

YES. YES. YES YE SYE SYES Y-

warnings: dark, implied/described noncon, kidnapping/captivity, yandere, housewife kink

You shivered slightly as Emma ran her hands over your hair, humming to herself. "Is the water too cold, sweetie?" she asked.

You didn't answer. It was a little tepid, but that wasn't why you shivered. She sighed a little as she ran her hand down your back, fingers ghosting over a bruise by your shoulder.

"He can be a little... rough, can't he?" she noticed, lowering her voice, and you still didn't respond, looking away from her even more as if the tile wall by the bathtub was suddenly fascinating to you. "Lean back, sweetie, so I can wash your hair."

You did as you were told, laying back to submerge the back of your head in the water; you kept your eyes open at first, but when she looked right at you with those dark brown eyes, you quickly shut your own.

Her hand scooped water over your hairline, carefully avoiding getting any in your eyes. You sighed as you felt her be so delicate with you... you only wish those hands had been so kind before. John didn't say anything when he fucked you; he just held you down, and left you in the bed alone when he was done. Emma came in after, seeming surprised and uncomfortable at the sight of you like that, before softly suggesting 'lets get you cleaned up, dear.'

She sat you back up carefully; at first, you were so unwillingly lost in your memories that you didn't notice her trying to prompt you to lift yourself again.

There was silence, spare the gentle sloshing of water around the tub, and Emma's quiet humming.

"Will you ever let me go?" you blurted out suddenly.

She stopped humming. She sighed a little. "He thinks you're safer here."

"But what do you think?"

She bit her lip, looking away demurely. "Well... I don't think that makes any difference, does it?"

You felt anxiousness stir in your gut as you thought of what you could say then, but feared it would get you in trouble. You couldn't really afford to keep any cards in your hand now, could you? "You could... you could tell him to let me go," you suggested hesitantly.

"Oh-- no, that's not an option," she insisted quickly. "It would be easier to help you adjust to living here now."

Your shoulders sank; realizing this route of conversation was useless, you mostly stopped listening and tried to just think of anything else.

"He's just trying to court you," she explained, "but he doesn't know how."

Not getting a response, she still went on, but moreso talking to herself.

"Maybe he just needs a little help..."

~

Don't be so nervous. She might like you if you give her a chance! -Emma

John looked at the note with a frown. He wasn't sure what to think of it. He really would've preferred that Emma stayed out of his romantic life, but he also couldn't deny that she probably had some advice he could use... a woman's perspective, that is. John really didn't know anything about women. Hence, keeping you here.

Stepping into the room, he winced a little when he saw you jump, obviously trying to hide how afraid you were of him. He couldn't blame you. But he couldn't help it, either.

For a long moment, you just looked at him; he suddenly realized it was bizarre that he hadn't said anything.

"You look pretty."

He found himself absent-mindedly rubbing his palms on his slacks. "Um... she picked out the dress for me..." you informed him.

"It's pretty. You look pretty," he said again.

You jolted slightly, again, when he stepped in, but he ignored it and walked to the record player. He turned it down-- way down-- and started a slow song quietly. He wasn't sure what he expected; he certainly imagined what might happen, that he might be able to dance with you, but he didn't expect it. You wouldn't want to--

"Do you want to dance?" you offered suddenly, making him whip his head around in surprise. You'd stepped closer to him but seemed to shy away when he looked at you-- he tried to soften his face.

"...do you?" he returned incredulously.

"I... I might," you shrugged, acting a little shy suddenly-- he thought it was rather adorable.

"Why?" he wondered bluntly.

"It sounds fun," you answered with a little smile, but then you glanced away and gave a second answer-- the more honest one, it seemed. "I... I want things to be different, with us."

He nodded. He did, too. He didn't like hurting you... he just didn't think he had any other choice.

"So, I thought... maybe we could dance!" you finished.

"Y-yes, um, sure," he agreed. "I haven't... danced in a long time..."

"That's alright," you assured sweetly, "I'll teach you."

He didn't completely trust your kindness, even if it made his cheeks burn a bit. You'd been so scared of him before, so empty behind the eyes when he forced you onto the bed--

"Can you waltz?" you asked.

"U-um--"

"We can do something easier," you decided quickly instead, motioning for him to come a little closer. Nervously, but obediently, he did.

He carefully took your waist, sighing harder through his nose than he meant to-- he didn't want you to know how nervous he was.

But he probably gave it away when you reached up and held his shoulders, and he looked at you with wide eyes.

Then, you started to sway together-- slowly, in time with the music. He couldn't look away from you, even when he realized that you were looking away out of awkward discomfort. You just looked so beautiful like this, and holding you in his arms just felt so right. He held his breath when you leaned in and laid your head on his chest, as if one wrong move would scare you off.

He thought about asking you why you were doing this. He thought about telling you that he knew all along you were made for him-- that you would be happy here, if you let yourself accept it. He thought about just grabbing you and pulling you closer, desperate to feel your body against his own. But he was too scared: he didn't do anything, not until you told him to.

You looked up at him suddenly, with wide and pleading eyes. "You can kiss me, John," you whispered.

What could he possibly say to that? Thankfully, he got the sense that he didn't really need to say anything... he could just kiss you, apparently, so he did. He wasn't really sure if he was doing it right-- but it felt right, pressing his lips to yours softly. You were so sweet and delicate... he melted a little, right then, knowing more than ever that he made the right choice bringing you here. His heart was pounding and his mind was swarming with the overwhelming obsession with you that he could hardly believe he'd once tried to fight.

You started to pull away, but his desperation took over-- he grabbed your face and kissed you harder, following you when you stepped back until you stumbled into the dresser and he had to catch you. "John, wait--" you mumbled.

"Don't wanna wait," he groaned in reply. "I waited so long for you already--"

Still, you pushed him back at the shoulders, and he quickly wiped his mouth as he broke away from you. "I'm sorry," you said right away, "it's not-- it's not that I don't want you to... I just wanted to talk to you first."

"Oh... okay," he mumbled, feeling more confused than ever. What was there to talk about?

"I... I think you're very sweet," you told him, "and I always thought that-- it's why I came to the bank so much, you know. To see you."

He smiled a little. He'd always suspected that, but never let himself truly believe it. A girl like you would never go for a guy like him... or he wouldn't have had to do this.

"But it's just... it's not practical, is it?" you said. "The way you went about it--"

"I-I just need you too much," he tried to defend.

"No, I understand," you promised with a sigh, "and I'm not angry. But... I think maybe... it might be better if you let me--"

"No."

You whined a little. "You didn't even hear what I wanted--"

"I don't need to. You want to leave," he accused. "And I won't let you."

"John, you can't do this. You can't keep me here forever!" you yelped.

"You say you want things to be different with us, then you say that," he sneered. "You want to make me angry, don't you?"

"No, John," you denied quickly, but he was already stepping closer, backing you into a corner. "John, please--"

"You want me to be like this!" he continued regardless. "You're trying to make me angry!"

You shook your head, eyes welling as he pushed you back.

"You know you can't leave. You know I can't let you leave," he growled, grabbing you hard as you whined and tried weakly to fight him. His chest swelled with an addictive sort of rage... no, he didn't want to hurt you, but something made him feel sickly proud when he did, because he could. "You belong to me now. Nothing's ever gonna change that."

"Please," you sobbed weakly, hiding your face in your hands-- but he pulled them away and pinned them back, pressing himself to you until you looked up at him fearfully.

"I'm never letting you leave this house," he assured, "you'll be lucky if I let you leave that bed again."

You had barely even opened your mouth to protest when he wrapped his hand around your neck, choking your cries into silence.

"Not another word, Mrs. Skillpa," he whispered sharply. "This is my house-- and I own everything in it. I'm in charge here, understand?"

[orenji-iro-no-sora]

The most fun thing about SVSSS is that the female protagonist of the original story, beauty beyond comprehension, Liu Mingyan, became a BL fangirl shipping Bingqiu and writing fanfictions of them along with the Holy Mothers. Imagining it to be a self insert character, instead of fighting for Luo Binghe, MXTX said I'd rather write smut of him with his Shizun.

Also Luo Binghe really used the most successful strategy in the history of "getting what you want" aka crying. It works. every. time. Whether he's actually so sensitive or he knows Shizun would cave if he cries idk. Maybe it's a bit of both. Maybe he's just following Shang Qinghua's advice. If he was subjected to the system, he would have lost more badass points than he could ever manage to gain. For a protagonist revered so by cucumber bro, he really was so babygirl. He'd use his puppy eyes, whimpering and whining until he gets what he wants. So pathetic. So smitten. So unlike an overpowered hero. I loved it!!

While the story was hilarious (and heartfelt I loved Yue Qingyuan), I also really liked how MXTX commented on writing and fandom culture. Cucumber bro as a fan thought he understood the narrative and the characters so well but he did fuck up as SQQ. He didn't know anything about Luo Binghe in reality despite admiring him so much.

Was it because Airplane failed to write well or is it because a fan's perspective is inherently different from that of a creator while also being influenced by the creator's objectives for the characters? Afterall, Airplane created Luo Binghe to be loved and commended (he couldn't have a weakness like wanting genuine love and affection, at all cost he must remain cool), making Mobei-jun a side character even though he was his ideal man (I don't blame him).

Another aspect that points to the power of character interpretation held by the fans is the smut included in Song of Bingqiu and the Regret of Chunshan. While she as an author can not include "morally depraved" porn into canon material (although I mean whatever she wrote wasn't... well) unless she turns Luo Binghe into a twisted yandere maniac, fans can write them and she can include it through them. It's quite genius actually.

Airplane has his hands tied too. He couldn't write the story he wanted. His fans while criticising his work, also wanted it to be exactly how he's written it. In such creative works, audience really is omnipotent. It makes sense for him to turn out to be an 'insignificant villain' in his own story considering whatever he writes, it won't be good enough. He really has no power. Characters are often slippery anyway. Authors can't really control them, at some point they become sentient and independent and the narrative changes to accomodate them instead. Luo Binghe, the perfect example.

I wished she had written more in this universe although she picked elements of this series and used them better in other works like MDZS and TGCF. I would have loved to see Luo Binghe in the Endless Abyss but since Shen Qingqiu couldn't see what happened there, we can't either. It's the same as when Wei Wuxian fell into the Burial Mounds. Also, I wished there was more Bing-ge vs Bing-mei. The original Binghe is definitely a character I wished she had explored more especially how he'd have reacted with a Shen Qingqiu who wasn't as scummy as the original. Him just giving up and leaving didn't feel too satisfying :/

Overall it was super fun and weird. But mostly fun.

[pseudoartistpostsstuff]

Heyo! May I request platonic yandere chain with reader? But instead of isekai like normal the reader is actually a destructive spirit or deity that was reawakened by either Dark Link or Ganon? Anywhoooo I hope you’re having a great week- mine was filled with exams lmfaooooo

Thanks for requesting anon! I really hope you had good results from those exams!

Notes: My week was okay, thank you for asking!!

I really let out my imagination out on this one, hope you'll like it.

BTW, take this as a part on the back for getting through your week.

I feel like I made the yandereness on this one so light, I'm sorry

-> Reader can't bring themselves to remember anyone's names so just remembers their most striking characteristics in their opinion.

-> It's been a while since I've read the comic, so Time keeping FD's mask on his belt for safety measures (since it's the most dangerous one and he can't lose it) is merely a headcanon of mine.

-> Reader is a menace who has questionable intellect (AKA a chaotic, pyromaniac, destructive entity being forced to be nice to others by the good guys™).

-> I left the end ambiguous, so you guys can decide if reader was either truly tamed or is still a menace who Time has to keep on check so they won't be too cruel on their "pranks".

-> Reader also magically rearranged Time's ocarina so each hole would play different a different sound at some point, so he literally had to re-learn where each note was so that he could go back to playing his songs again.

-> Reader slept for more than Time and Wild both and doesn't know a thing about the Zelda lore other than the Golden goddesses.

TWs: Light platonic yanderism, mention of burns, mentions of fire and arson, mentions of loud noises, basically just reader being an absolute hazard to anyone and everyone.

Platonic yandere! Chain x Reader

Debt to pay.

People from your time used to say that one could sooner move a mountain from it's resting place rather than tame your natural ways.

You wouldn't say you were a deity, per say, you thrived on chaos and setbacks, a living annoyance to the poor living things that breathed the same air as you, and roamed the earth by the same time you did.

It was in your nature to be destructive, yes, but you never wanted destruction, at least not full extinction. The darkness and the light were both two sides of the same rupee, they were one just like the other, beings of both sides would react the exact identical way to having their butts lit on fire. So, of course, you weren't one to pick and choose who you'd go after each day.

Thing is, most people didn't understand that —if anyone at all— so everyone just assumed you were a being of pure darkness, even if you actually saw yourself as more of a dark gray entity from a moral chart perspective.

And that was how you got yourself “killed”, if that's even the right thing to call it.

Somehow, no one seemed to care much when you lit whole villages on fire and made all of the walls of full-on castles start dissing out pure electricity, but they almost dislocated their jaws the moment you decided to do a silly trick and turn all of their lovely goddesses statues upside down for a day.

As if those same goddesses hadn't just ignored all of their prayers in the last hundreds of years you spent freely making their lives miserable.

You were stored in a vase. Not even a cool cool one. A plain clay vase deep within a temple under the ground. If you could choose, you'd have preferred something more majestic and up to the level of your power, but then again, it wasn't like you were in place to say anything in your defense.

Sometimes you just wondered how your small group of worshipers were. They probably weren't the best people out there, if you could say so yourself, but you were still curious if they ended up having similar fates to yours.

A long, long time later, you were "revived", for the same reason you were "killed".

Not the best choice on the part of whoever went through the trouble of doing all that, but who were you to judge? Or even to complain?

From what you could get from the boring evil monologue the guy in front of you was giving after having just woken you up from the longest nap you've ever had —since you couldn't really die— the guy wanted you to aid him in his quest to kill some other guys and take over the world or some boring nefarious plan like that.

You couldn't recall any of the names he just said, though, so you could only guess that you had either slept for a pretty damn long time, or you were in an entirely different world on itself.

Before you could fully decide on one of the two possibilities, the red guy sent you to fight against that group of guys he was talking about, seven men with varying shades of blonde hair along with two guys who weren't blond at all.

Perhaps you could have admired the strength of the red guy's magic, to just bring you out of your sleep like that and already straight up teleport you.

Thing is, you didn't really care enough to do that, you just did whatever you wanted the moment you realized you were fully conscious and in a physical body once again.

Were you chaotic and very much possibly evil? Yes. Were you stupid, however? Kinda No.

So the moment the opportunity presented itself, you followed those guys around, gathering information. Taking notice also of that one shadow looking dude, who was following them around just like you, seemingly with the intention of making their lives hell.

Maybe he'd be an interesting being to interact with, if he wasn't as prickly as a damn cactus. You swore you couldn't even approach the guy without him reacting like a startled cat, pointing his flimsy sword straight to your face. You swore to yourself you'd break that thing in half one of these days.

And so you set your sights fully on the blond —and the not so blond— guys, taking your time to also play around with the villages they went to and toy with the monster camps they passed by.

Of course, you couldn't just ignore the massively ominous aura drifting from the masks that one of the taller blondies carried around. Your hands itched to get a grasp on those things, whatever was sealed inside it was magical and possibly powerful, and the possibilities sent your mind on quite a dangerous frenzy.

The thing that made you a bit disappointed, however, was how long it took for them to notice your presence.

At some point you decided to start giving them some more obvious hints that what was following them wasn't friendly.

They seemed to really like bomb bags, which wasn't exactly safe for them when you could randomly activate those at will.

Also, you couldn't control the rain or storms, of course, but you definitely could attract lightning, especially since they all seemed to enjoy carrying around those identical metal swords.

Sometimes you just liked to pull on their hair and make knots on them, given that some had really long hair.

The wolf guy had a horse, one you could just startle really easily. Although you didn't have the result you wanted, since the wolf guy wasn't sent flying the moment his horse went crazy.

You caught him later, though. Making loud, high pitched noises to absolutely blow away his senses the moment he turned into a wolf to try and chase you down.

The fire that the short guy was using to mend a weapon randomly became overly strong, enough to have burned his whole arm, if he hadn't pulled away quick enough.

The scarf of the other one just one day became a bit too hard around his neck. It's a good thing for him that he was quick enough to pull it off his neck before he suffocated.

You watched as the one with pink hair almost had a breakdown, as all his colorful, shiny little trinkets and accessories having become dulled, turning completely pitch black, no traces of their original colors or magic left.

The kid tried to control the wind, only to have it blown straight back to his face, bringing leaves and sand with it.

You made sure their cook accidentally poured a bit too much pepper in their food, or salt, even sugar, if you felt like it.

The brown haired one suddenly lost control of his magic, what was supposed to heal their wounds ended up dyeing their hair blue for days on end.

That other guy who always overslept felt his pillow being pulled from under his head at random times through his nights.

And the tall guy's masks have all suddenly decided to disappear.

“Okay. Something is going on here. And it's not something natural.” Time sighed, looking around the camp, tired and worried, concerned.

Wild’s hair was an absolute mess and seemed to have caught on fire at some point, Warriors was glaring at his scarf, keeping it as far from his —almost purple— neck as possible. Wind had his hair almost as messy as Wild's, full of leaves and dirt, he was pretty sure there were also some bugs around it, his cheek had a thin cut from a sharp little rock.

Twilight was occupied comforting Epona, although the both of them seemed quite shaken up by something.

Four had some burns around the tips of his fingers, his hair usual blond hair now stained with blue, Hyrule sitting beside him with a frown, bandaging his hands rather than using his healing magic like he normally would.

Sky wasn't far from the two, almost dozing off despite the migraine that had settled behinds his eyes, which were now dotted with heavy bags from sleepless nights. Legend's terrible mood did not seem to disturb his need for a nap.

“Oh, really?” Legend almost growled back, positively fuming with barely contained rage gleaming in his eyes.

“Vet, I am not your enemy here, but once we find out who is doing this, you can direct your anger towards whoever they are.” Time shot a look to the other.

“That is, if it's even a person doing this. It might be some kind of monster.” Warriors commented.

“One thing we're sure of is that there's magic involved in this.” Hyrule spoke up, finished with the bandaging.

“I don't even know why you're so mad, Leg, you were possibly the least affected by this.” Four complained, eyebrows furrowed with stress. Even as a blacksmith, he was never a fan of getting burned, especially not being caught off guard like that!

“Agreed.” Wild was the next to speak, not bothering to brush the soot out of his hair. It wasn't quite the first time he almost been exploded, after all, even though the experience didn't get any better no matter how many times he went through it.

“You're really saying that, even though the kid only got a burst of wind to the face.”

“Ay! Mind your own business, Legend!” Wind sprung up in defense of himself, already looking to be tense prior to the attack, as the two began arguing.

While the group was in quite the mess, you took your chances to go ahead and approach stealthily to attempt to take the mask you were so curious about. Said mask being the last one you hadn't stolen borrowed yet, since the tall guy seemed to have noticed his other masks disappearances and decided to take extra means of protection towards that one.

In your opinion, your risks were all carefully thought out and calculated, however, you seemed to have completely forgotten about a certain wolf guy at the edge of the camp, standing beside his horse and looking straight at you.

You managed to grab the mask from the taller guy's belt! But at what price..?

Before you could even manage to turn around and run away with it, a hand shot out, hooking on the back of the collar of your shirt, pushing you to the ground in a second. And in another second, there was a blade shoved right in front of your face.

Goddammit.

You barely paid any attention to all the yelling, too occupied hugging your newly acquired possession tightly to your chest.

“Hand me that mask. Now.” A voice right behind you demanded, yet you still didn't move.

“No.”

The sword in front of you seemed to inch just slightly closer to your neck.

“At least tell me what it is, first!” You asked, a bit more squirmy, not at all comfortable with the vulnerability you had right now, since it seemed like that long sleep left you with a bit less power than you used to have, clearly a precaution, should you ever gain you body back. It was smart from your captors, but very much annoying for you.

“None of your business, now give me back my mask!” The tall guy —now in front of you— stressed. You could tell that his restlessness was hinting towards just how near he was to the end of his wits.

“If this piece of porcelain is as powerful as it seems, then yes, yes it is my business!”

It wasn't, not really, but you were too curious to just give up on information just like that.

The tall guy went quiet for a second before he finally replied, going with a question instead of actually giving you an answer like you were expecting from him.

“How do you know how powerful it is?”

“None of your business.” You threw his own words back at him and now the dull side of the sword was suddenly pressing up pretty uncomfortably against your skin, burning you. “Okay, fine, I'll tell you.”

And that was how you met the Links, and also how you became chained to them, unable to leave. After all, you did have to pay them back for all that you did to every single one of them.

But, for some reason, that simple dept seemed to only to get bigger the longer you spent time with them, despite the fact you weren't doing anything entirely wrong…

At least, that was the excuse they gave to you, yet something in you made you feel like that wasn't the full truth.

Extra (This happened)

Time: give me back my shit

Reader: nuh-uh

Time: fym nuh-uh

[spjohnv-blog]

If you're familiar with the South Park Archives, pretty much the only SP fansite still online - there's over eighteen years of history there, pages and renders for tons of characters and locations, thousands of screenshots, a pretty dedicated staff, transcripts of every episode, and so much more. When I made my start writing shitty fanfics, it was a super useful resource, and that was a small chunk of what it is today.

FANDOM has today unveiled a new Offensive Terms Policy which continues a trend in the last few years been suggested in events like Community Connect, where it has previously been suggested wikis avoid references to canonical sex. The avoidance of slurs is something I would be super supportive of generally -- we don't need to see that kind of stuff on Wookiepedia or like, a wiki for Bluey. It'll keep people from vandalizing children's wikis with adult content for kicks. I am generally in favor of content filtering, especially for family-friendly-oriented content.

...but, this is going to cause a lot of problems for the South Park Archives, a show with a major character who frequently uses slurs and is firmly anti-censorship. You don't need to be an editor to think about that. If you're a fan, you know what kind of show we're talking about.

This is a show with episodes called "The Biggest Douche in the Universe", "Major Boobage", "Reverse Cowgirl" and "Titties and Dragons". There are songs like "Fuck the Police" and "Jacking it in San Diego". There is a character called 'Retarded Fish'. The names of these songs and episodes, bear in mind, are legally registered copyrights, not our choices -- how do you change that? Move an article to Episode 1601? What about "Fuck the Police", which isn't even a South Park original song?

You can clean up a synopsis, and formalize language on a character page, I've done both of those things when I was an editor, but you can't undo all of this. How do you?

That's not even getting into the transcripts pages, which are intended to be 100% accurate to the actual dialogue, continuing the tradition from the good ol' South Park Scriptorium...

Within the day of the policy change, FANDOM has already started to make changes to remove slurs from the transcript pages that are unable to be modified as it is directly related to global policy. I don't know that the staff were communicated with about this personally either, but I'm not in the know like I used to be.

No doubt some of this move is prompted by advertisers - FANDOM previously cited advertiser feedback as a motivation for inserting all sorts of videos on top of wiki pages (similar to their later push to include AI-generated content) and understandably many advertisers may not want their brand name mere inches from a discussion of cartoon eight-year-olds using slurs. I mean, shoot, I wouldn't if I were in charge of a major company, and I get someone needs to keep the lights on, but...

I don't know man, it's a shitty position to be in. It's a well-intended policy that I'd support in almost any other context but literally this narrow exception, and I definitely hate the thought of looking like I'd be defending use of offensive terms, but like, how do you cover "everything" about South Park, an explicitly adult show that is so firmly anti-censorship, that builds entire episodes around these kinds of jokes, or even analyze it from a critical perspective, in such a family-friendly, sanitized way, without betraying its spirit and creative intent?

You can imagine how many staff members there are probably scratching their heads or bashing them into lamp posts, trying to figure out what to do or how to move forward after this. They could apply for an exception, but would it even be granted? What would the alternative be? Are restrictions like this worth it or do they render the whole thing moot? How much responsibility lies with FANDOM? Are advertisers forcing the whole internet down this road? There are so many questions in the air on this. I certainly don't have answers.

[rubra-wav]

Vox HCs entry #2

Warnings/CW: discussion of toxic masculinity, SFW

A/N: just various thoughts I've had about this man.

- He is a musical theatre/drama fan

He gives me this energy so much due to how dramatic he is in general. His first instinct when Alastor comes back is to instantly make a callout on live TV in the form of song. 💀

I feel like he listens to musicals in 'secret' - but it's not actually nearly as much as a secret as he thinks it is. I feel like in general he gets very loud when he's passionate or excited about something.

I just have a mental image of him thinking nobody in Vee tower can hear him while he absolutely yells the lyrics of a song with headphones on at full volume while dancing out the choreography to the song.

He'd deny everything about it if you brought this up however. He grew up in the 50's and due to that I feel as if he would be very insecure about it. I'll elaborate more on that in the next point.

- Still has a fair few beliefs to deconstruct

He is from around the 50's time period, and due to that I feel like he would have a lot of internalised toxic masculinity.

He is on and off with Val who's obviously GNC, so I think he doesn't gaf too much about others and what they wear and do anymore

But I think he has a lot of shit he directs towards himself still.

Elaborating on the liking theatre thing and denying it: I think he would stubbornly deny it because he thinks it's 'too feminine' for himself to be interested in and that he thinks it makes him 'less of a man' and shit kinda like that.

I also think because of this he also has horrendous perspectives on showing emotion.

It is already canon that he hides behind a mask at all times, but I feel like even if he 100% trusts someone to be genuine around them he still wouldn't let himself do so due to thinking he's 'less man' if he does things like cry or directly seek any kind of support - especially emotional - outside of his usual compliment fishing behaviours.

I don't think his perspectives usually pertain to others as he's had a lot of exposure to different more up-to-date / nonconforming people with Val and Vel - but I do definitely feel like he has hella internalised bullshit.

Dating him in this aspect would be hard because you would need to be there reassuring him that it's okay to do things which society deems as 'feminine' - especially with what 1950's society deemed as being normal and abnormal for men.

He needs reassurance so bad about it.

I can see him as trying to keep up his mask of not needing any kind of help from you even when it's obvious he's cracking under whatever (pressure, overwhelm, stress, etc. Etc.)

- This man can't dress himself well for shit

(Mostly based upon past Voxtagram posts)

This man's closet outside of his usual outfits is largely button-up/polo shirts and cargo shorts with the most horrifically ugly patterns you've ever seen in your life.

The only reason his outfits look good ever is because of Vel forcing him to not dress like shit.

I can imagine him walking out of his room in a blue and red polo and black cargo shorts with a snapback on and Velvette and Valentino just looking at him in utter horror. 💀

I also like the idea of him having equally chaotic socks. Like you have the usual put together outfit he has on, but then he takes off his shoes, and they are eye shatteringly ugly with words printed on them.

It's ironic because if you date him he will be probably pissy about you dressing well going out together.

He's a hypocrite 🙏

- He doesn't like sweets

I can see him as not liking things that are sweet at all.

He absolutely takes his coffee black as well, it's the most bitterest gag-worthy flavour ever and you are terrified at how much he seems to like the taste.

The sweetest thing he does like in the way of drinks is diet coke.

I feel like he survives on energy drinks, but I don't think he enjoys them at all and just tolerates them.

He doesn't like desserts either. Maybe tiramisu but not frequently.

I can see him actually liking dark chocolate though. I feel like he likes bitter things.

He's totally an absolute cunt about it as well.

If he sees you having coffee with milk/creamer and sugar he's the type of person to go "ugh. I don't know how you can drink that." While fake gagging at you.

He's that mf

A/N I have multiple ideas for drabble/fics, but my brain decided to write this out for now.

If you like sweets a lot he would be annoying as fuck about it 100%

I'm a bit hesitant to post like full fics or drabbles as I don't want to in the moment be like 'yeah, this is great!' Then look at it the next morning and be tweaking out because it feels OOC or I could have worded things better. Perfectionism is a fucking nightmare 🗣/lh

[lehnsherrrr]

Mitski + Cherik

I have a playlist of every single Mitski song ever made playing constantly 24 hours of my day for the past 2 years, I also went to see her live. I’ll be damned if I don’t make this post. (Also this has been in the drafts for like 3 weeks now)

So, at first, I was listening to Mitski and was like whoah the song “old friend” is perfect for cherik. And then the song “Eric” came on and I was dumbfounded, so here’s an explanation of lyrics and how they apply to Cherik.

Also I suck at making edits so this is technically the same thing but using your imagination instead.

“We nearly drowned for such a silly thing”

Charles diving into the ocean to save Erik. But this could also mean drowning in their decisions, they almost lost each other because of their beliefs. Such a silly thing to loose each other over.

“Someone who loves me now better than you”

This line makes me believe this song is from Erik’s perspective, either talking about Charles, or Magda. However I like the idea that it’s Charles he talks about since it’s the very start of the song. It might even be implied that “better than you” is implying Shaw.

“And that pretty friend is finally yours”

100% talking about Moira, boy is bitter. All of this so far is talking from the future looking on the past, so that previous line may be talking about Magda after all.

“I’ll be around on Sunday, if you’ll meet me at the blue diner, I’ll take coffee and talk about nothing baby”

Erik meeting Charles at the end of Dark Pheonix. Isn’t it nice to talk about nothing for once, instead of arguing about mutant rights or trying to save the world. They can finally relax together and just be people.

“At the blue diner, I’ll take anything you wanna give me, baby”

Switch to Charles perspective. Agreeing to stay with Erik.

This song is short but wonderful, I’ve only focused on the first half of the song because it fits far too well. The other part fits too but this was too specific.

The way it starts with how they met, then when they left eachother for other people, and then ending with them rejoining. Perfect few lyrics almost like they were made just for them.

And to top it all off, it’s called Old Friend. Thats CRAZY.

“Sorry I can’t take your touch”

Erik leaving at the end of pretty much every movie, the touch being Charles love and want for him to stay with the xmen, with him.

“It’s just that I fell in love with a war”

Erik’s constant belief that there’s a war coming and he needs to fight it first. He chooses this again and again over Charles, one could say he loves it more than he loves Charles.

“Nobody told me it ended”

Still fighting for the war he believes in, even though Charles has been working so hard for mutant rights and has done a lot of good work.

“And it left a pearl in my head, and I roll it around every night, just to watch it glow. Every night baby that’s where I go.”

That anger and sadness that stays within him, stuck in his brain, part of him. Memories of Charles, hating him, loving him. He sits with it every night, going over everything again and again. Also visual of Erik floating them little metal balls.

Beautiful song, good lord. This is all about Erik choosing the war over Charles, there’s also something about the imagery of sitting with a ‘pearl’ in his mind is so very Erik.

“But how long, how long can we play this way?”

Playing as in going back and forth, fighting, making up, fighting again. This is definitely from Charles perspective.

“I’m tired, I’m tired of not loving you”

Charles is tired of not being able to show Erik how much he loves him, he just wants him home.

“My heart, my heart wants to hold you”

All he wants to do it is be with Erik, he wants to comfort him again and show him he’s not evil, that there’s good in there too.

“But I know, I know, I know the rules”

But he knows the rules of this game, he knows they couldn’t ever be together. Be it their opposing beliefs, homophobia, or just the way they are. Perhaps also the rules as in the movie won’t allow it, their writing won’t allow it.

Painful. Other lyrics in the song are more sexual, which also fits if you’d like it to. First line of the song is “you like control, well I do to” and that would be a killer title for a dark cherik fic. They both control their environment in different ways.

“One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby”

Charles telepathy, could be from any of the students, especially those from the first movie who later died. However it’s painful to think that it’s Erik saying “You’re a telepath Charles, you can convince me of anything.”

Also on that note, the ledge could also refer to delving deeper into his dark side, it would take one mean word from Charles and he’d get so much worse.

Or perhaps he means the ledge in which he’s raised himself to as a super villain, and he knows Charles could bring him down from it.

“Tell me don’t so I can crawl back in”

See my other post about Erik subtly begging Charles to control him. He knows he’ll always pick his cause over staying with Charles, he wants Charles to force him to stay. Get rid of his option to choose so he can crawl back to comfort. Be gone with his righteousness, and just be simple and safe with him.

The title of the song being First Love/Late Spring hurts me. Was mitski an xmen fan or what Jesus.

Left this one until last cause I don’t want to teach a grandma to suck eggs here, I’m sure you already know what’s about to go down. Nonetheless, it would be criminal for me to leave it out. Ready for some Charles angst? Too bad!

“Baby, my baby,”

Raven, Angel, Darwin, Banshee, Havok, adopted into the xmen with nowhere else to go but return to their unfortunate lives.

“Tell your baby that I’m your baby”

The first xmen looking on to the current, looking at who Charles ‘replaced’ them with.

“I bet on loosing dogs”

Charles putting his trust into those first kids, knowing they were young, but it was the last hope. He better is all on them.

“I know they’re loosing and pay for my place by the ring”

He knows they couldn’t stand a chance, but there was that hope. Perhaps if he trained them, gave them the right motivation, they could survive.

“Where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down”

He’s with them the whole way, in their minds, in their spirits. These kids had fight in them, but they were still kids.

“I’ll be there on their side, I’m loosing by their side.”

When they loose, he looses with them. The xmens fate stands on the strength of those kids. Charles grief over loosing these kids makes him catatonic, wishing he had died instead. He was with them all the way, and yet he still hears “Where were you Charles” “You abandoned all of us”

[corpseidol]

🩸- anon here with a few more silly ideas. (I’m a masc person so most of these are from a masc perspective:((( )

Logan and Goth older brother reader, kind of like Sunshine X Cerberus, but in the phantom realm? Readers the terrified one. And then Logan takes the protective role of :3

Ashlyn with a tap/acro dancer, friendly competition of different dance styles. Or a martial artist, I say this because if you’ve ever been in a dance studio that does multiple styles, the friendly beef is CRAZZYYY

Ben with either really short chaotic reader or a reader who’s taller then him and is the dad friend, bro is prepared for everything^2

Tyler with a Shakespeare quoting theatre kid, overly flirty and all (with consent ofc) they’re so gay for eachother

I literally can’t view Taylor dating someone who’s masc, but best ship I think is girlboss (Taylor) X girl failure, like fem reader is clumsy, bad at school, but in phantom realm? She’s the one hunting the phantoms down

Aiden… GOD AIDEN WITH A CHILDHOOD FRIEND HE TRIED TO MIMICK? BC HE WAS JUST SO COOL, AND AIDEN WANTED TO BE COOL LIKE HIM??? AUGHHH

no idea if this is a request, i assume not. but i’ll involve this with the misc list since i throw in my own ideas and a whole ass rant.

LOGAN. sunshine x cerberus would be the funniest thing ever because it reminds me of rodrick heffley. so lots of bonus points if goth older brother is a HUGE tease and does music. i feel like it’d be fun for goth!reader and aiden vs tyler with that personality i’m going for. just imagining goth laughing and encouraging taylor to record them; even provoking aiden and tyler when they’re all grumpy. but side effect: VERY IGNORANT PERSON if they were not involved with the phantom world, they would tease logan about the whole thing; even in public. which would cause serious problems like accidentally outing them and causing suspicions. if they were involved with the phantom world, they would react the same way tyler did but start a whole argument with tyler using tons of different insults. (bonus: actually very loving towards logan. does not care if their teasing goes too far but would protect logan with his fucking life.)

ANOTHER BONUS! in the band au, goth!reader would def help logan with his eyeliner (only did it when he noticed how half-assed logan’s make up was.)

ASH. at first, would most likely find the competition weird. if you made playful competitive jokes when you first meet her, she’d most likely be confused with your tone. are you making fun of her? are you trying to fight? are you joking? honestly kind of like another aiden x ashlyn if he was a dancer.. turns into a taylor x ash dynamic if we make this competitive little fella a good comforter. that’s absolutely adorable. at some point ash will find the playfulness easing her; sometimes irritated when you accuse her of “cheating” in the playful competition which is… most definitely not possible. if sbg were to be a musical, just imagine these two having a song where ash has to keep up with tap/acro dancer; most likely a “the other side” from the greatest showman type of song ngl.

BEN. would have such a fun personality if there was another dude who was way taller and was more of a dad figure. huge idol for ben honestly. yk the scene where ash compliments him for his good “first aid skills” or wtv and he blushes? imagine him always blushing everytime dad friend!reader compliments him or pats him on the head telling him that he did such a good job and that he’s proud. ben would hate showing his anger issues more towards dad friend!reader because he feels something in him that he doesn’t want to disappoint dad friend!reader. when they first met, he’d be way more timid because i like to think dad friend!reader would be a yapper but more of a calm one. would find it absolutely awkward being around dad friend!reader but finds so much comfort when dad friend!reader does something father-like (finds himself agreeing with dad friend!reader a lot and mindlessly following him while also throwing in his ideas.)

BONUS: picks up random habits that dad friend!reader does

TYLER. would find it absolutely ridiculous if a kid were to quote Shakespeare to him. but get this guy in a grumpy mood and tell him a shakespeare quote him? now you’re just being annoying. THOUUGHHHHH this guy seems to be keeping those words? oh m ygod just imagine reader getting upset and he pulls up with a shakespeare quote and he gets all shy when you tease him because he just gave out that he thinks of you when he sees ANY quote at all. proceeds to say “it’s just a one time thing” but uses quotes you have said to him to motivate him in the phantom world.

TAYLOR. she SCREAMSSSSS bisexual in denial. just imagine her blushy face when she sees how strong reader is in the phantom world, constantly defending her n shit. bandaging her own brother can be hard, but bandaging you??? YOU????? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO WITH HER?? MARRY HER??? BECAUSE SHE ISN’T SAYING NO!! just imagine ash having to divide the group for a plan and taylor immediately volunteers to go with you because holy shit. shy clumsy girl who’s good in fighting? no need for more info, she NEEDS that number. just imagine taylor teasing you and when you get all blushy and laughy, she sees your face and turns into a TOMATO. despite you being the clumsy one, she feels like she’s the clumsy one around you; becoming uncoordinated and messy when she sees you wipe a bloody nose and breathe heavily. bonus points if shy clumsy girl actually did martial arts and has a uniformed (person in the army) father who is HELLA STRICT WITH HER. more bonus points if the shy clumsy girl is actually really slim and her body aches after experiencing high amount of adrenaline

this is very self projecting because im literally describing myself. sorry guys.

btw just imagine being the clumsy girl and running into taylor in a garage where she’s wearing a white tank top with oil all over. ohMY RHAOJCOCJOWWMOANSODMDDJQOWMSODMDO HELDOFOPSPWP

AIDEN. huge angst here idc i love aiden angst! just imagine his childhood friend being aiden’s BIGGEST friend but suddenly lost all contact when they moved houses, and aiden just loved them so much he thinks of them everyday; doing things that his friend would’ve done and likes videos that reminds him of them. despite him learning to be able to live without them, he has so much loyalty for them. just to run into them at the school and seeing that they refuse to interact with him until they were forced into the group bc of that TEACHER. huge slowburn due to their unknown want to avoid from aiden. bonus points if aiden tries to push them (like how he was pushy the first few eps) by reminding them of things they used to do when they were kids or showing them things that remind him of their childhood.

u’ve been fed.