#nirvana sans

[bluepr1ntyy]

art dump and some headcanons/redesigns :33

I wanted to draw Sorell, Goth, Shino and Raven from the fallen angel au(which is liek,, a deleted and forgotten au with 3 drawings) but ended up redesigning them because,, why not,,

Mictlantecuhtli by @afterdeathsweeps

Nirvana by @doodlesphxre

Raven by @echoiarts

Shino-Hana by @blue-kohina

BluePrint by @pepper-mint

(( Reaper by renrink ))

the rest either I forgot or they deactivated their accounts, none belong to me

anyway, Lux is here too because I haven't drawn her in a while

I feel like after getting help she'd like to experiment with fashion/art and mix different styles and be very self expresive even if she's still kinda insecure idk

Lux by AlainaPrana

[bleach69]

NIRVANA, 29.12.93 - San Diego Sports Arena, San Diego, CA 🇺🇸.

[zhoudadudugongjin]

[doodlesphxre]

[ AFTERDEATH FAM ART ]

some cute stuffies with them.......

(Goth made Nirvana cry by accident and hes more scared of making Geno angry XD)

Raven and "human" Raven :3 (Design kinda inspired by Blueprints/Finn's...if you're not okay with inspo tell me pls.....^^'/pos)

Goth + Goth and Prints relationship in my ver......

THEM!!!!! I love....... Te hmm... (Do you think that Reaper gave all of them embarassing nicknames)

@bluepr1ntyy

[staykookedsuga]

Love of Nirvana has me hooked. I’m only on episode 7 but so far I’m loving how literally every person is scheming, is aware of each other’s scheming, but we don’t know exactly how aware they are of each scheme. At the edge of my seat, biting my nails.

[wolrith]

my ass has a poster obsession

[hangup119]

don't get the deal | h. taesan (TEASER)

being the shoulder to cry on is no easy task - especially not for han taesan, who has lived almost half of his life painfully smitten over someone he is confident would never, ever think of wanting him as more than just a friend. he wonders if he will ever get out of this so-called "friend zone," or maybe he just doesn't get the deal at all.

pairing. han taesan x fem. reader

genres + warnings. friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, one-sided pining, eventual happy ending, slight angst + profanity, taesan is bad at feelings, reader is even worse

playlist. don't get the deal by beabadoobee; but i like you by boy next door; somethin' stupid by frank sinatra; about a girl by nirvana; disasterology by pierce the veil; if i'm james dean, you're audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens

expected word count. 7k-10k words | teaser word count. 1.3k words

author's note. hey goisss... ive had this in the drafts for so so long but for some reason i started working on it again and im nearing the end so hopefully this will be out very soon !!! dont quote me on that tho live laugh love user hangup119's work ethic <3 ALSO btw this teaser is like a flashback kinda thing but the real story actually takes place in their college days

@onedoornet | reblogs appreciated!

IT WAS HIGH SCHOOL WHEN YOU RUINED TAESAN'S LIFE FOREVER.

To be more specific, it was during your last year of high school when he realized that there was simply no way he was ever going to win you over. Not now, and certainly not ever.

Because here’s the thing: Taesan was not a bad-looking guy, he’s far from it, actually. In fact, he had enough business cards from agency recruiters that could fit a whole shoe box, so his looks clearly were never the problem here. Was it his personality, then? Probably not that, either. He was pretty chill most of the time, and he had never really acted up around anyone unless it truly called for it. He always made sure that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself around you, and there were never really incidents that could have painted him in a bad light in your eyes. He had decent grades, so he wasn’t stupid either, which was one of your major turn-offs. And he was sporty—he participated in the school’s soccer team, and he even had a bunch of fans giggling over him whenever he so much as passed them by while chasing after the ball, so his popularity was pretty decent too.

Was he simply not… your type? But that couldn’t be—you were always making heart eyes at Park Sunghoon who was two grades above, and he was told all the time that he was basically a lookalike of the guy! Not to mention you were always at Jung Sungchan’s games, cheering his name even when the guy was literally being benched. Taesan never got benched. He was the star player of his soccer team. You fawned over Park Wonbin when he performed at the school’s talent show, but Taesan could also sing and play the electric guitar just as well. You squealed over Lee Sohee because he was sooo cute! but Taesan knew how to get real fucking adorable, too! He practically had all of their qualities combined into one, and not once did you ever look back at him. 

And that’s when it hit him. 

It was prom that night, and he was off at the corner drinking from a cup of water instead of jumping along with the fray and bouncing up and down to some Drake song when his friend, Kim Leehan, approached him. 

“I’m not slow-dancing with you, Leehan,” he muttered, taking another sip of his bland water. “Piss off.”

Leehan raised his arms in response, smiling in a way that was just so Leehan-like of him. “Woah, woah, I get it. Someone pissed in your cup, or something? Literally and figuratively,” he laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “Lighten up for once, ‘san. It’s your first and last prom, you know?” 

Taesan only grunted in return. 

“Look at you; so emo tonight,” Leehan said, defeated. He followed the other’s gaze towards the dance floor, where everyone is packed together like a can of sardines. “But you’re always so normal around Y/N.” 

Taesan paused.

Leehan laughed again. “Hm, maybe not?” 

Sometimes, it was both a blessing and a curse to be friends with someone like Kim Leehan. 

“Stop talking about things you already know,” Taesan murmured, chucking the water cup into the trash can a few meters away. He placed his hands inside his pockets, looking straight ahead amidst the dizzying lights and the dispersed crowd now that a slow song started playing.

“Why don’t you go ask her for a dance?” Leehan suggested, signaling towards the dance floor. 

“She’s literally holding hands with Yang Jungwon right now,” Taesan deadpanned. “Are you kidding me? How’d she get him of all people as her prom date?” 

Scoring the smartest and the most popular student in your school has got to be the biggest flex of your high school career. Taesan had almost no complaints except for the fact that Yang Jungwon was your date instead of—him! Any moment now and he’d be losing his mind. Actually, scratch that, he probably already was. 

Leehan hummed. 

“Do you think,” he began, slowly, darting his line of sight between you who’s giggling at something Yang Jungwon said, before turning back to Taesan, the angstiest kid he’s ever known. “That, maybe, if you had just asked her out to prom with you… then maybe she’d have said yes?” 

Finally, the gears inside Taesan’s head started to turn. Leehan smiled at the sight.

Taesan quickly scoffed. “No way,” he denied, crossing his arms. “Why would she go with me when she’s got Yang Jungwon as her date? It’d only happen in my dreams.” 

He figured it out anyway. It wasn’t because he wasn’t as handsome as Park Sunghoon, or as sporty as Jung Sungchan, or as musically talented as Park Wonbin (though he’d beg to differ), or as cute as Lee Sohee. Heck, it wasn’t even because he wasn’t as smart or as popular as Yang Jungwon. 

Maybe it was never because of those things that made you look at them instead of him. 

Maybe you were just never interested in him at all. 

And Taesan will have no other choice but to live with that fact forever. 

Leehan’s smile dropped, and he peeled himself away from the wall. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped for a second just to say: “You’re so—stubborn.” 

Taesan looked at him indignantly. “...What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Leehan shrugged, finally walking away. “You tell me, dude.” 

And then he was gone, rushing off to join the rest of their friends while Taesan stayed in the back, alone and miserable all because of his newfound epiphany. Though he supposed he was already miserable the moment you entered the venue with Yang Jungwon right beside you. 

It was a time of new beginnings for Taesan; a time to finally move on from you. 

Though, if only it was that easy.

Two weeks later, when you were working on a final project with him, you unexpectedly dropped the news that you and Jungwon have broken up. Because Jungwon was going to some Ivy League, and you were decidedly… not. You couldn’t handle the thought of being long-distance, so you decided to just cut things off with him since it can’t be helped, you know? And then you proceeded to laugh it off with that huge, idiotic smile of yours before continuing on with the project. Taesan didn’t know what was so funny.

Eventually, he had to share his water with you when you started sobbing hysterically inside of the library, hiccuping and all. 

He admittedly felt awful seeing you cry over Yang Jungwon, your high school boyfriend of probably only two months, but most importantly, he felt awful because of the relief that suddenly washed over him. 

…And what did that make Taesan?

So, really, maybe it was for the better that you would never look at Taesan the way he wished you would. That no matter how many times he has lent you an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, you never bothered to stop for a moment and think that hey, maybe this guy likes me to some capacity, and maybe I should give him a chance. Because what kind of friend is he to feel relieved at the fact that you had gotten dumped by your boyfriend? That when your heart was broken, he could only rejoice at the fact that he now has a higher chance of getting with you once again even when it is so clear that he never once did? 

How could he sit next to you and think such thoughts? 

And yet, even when you keep jumping from one person to another, falling for someone, crying over another—Taesan will always be there for you when it all comes crashing down. A friend to cheer you on, to lift you up, to steady you—because that’s all he’ll ever be to you. 

Han Taesan was only seventeen years old when you ruined his life. 

And for what it is worth, he is still in love with you.

story by hangup119. do not steal.

[ell-es-dee]

☣ hallo !! im nawt the best at making intros so.. here's the best one i could put together... (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

⤷ before you read just know that if you are very judgemental you do not belong here

💊 namehoard: toxin, sayori, yakui (main name), cyanide, lithium, radium, cyber, marigold, bonnie, keta/ketamine, hazard, strawb, nyacifier, chlorine, zombeh, bena/benadryl, poptart, kona, hikkie, valentine, biscuit, flandre, cirno, clownpiece, caliber ++ any fictionkin names are fine!!

💊 deminonbinaryflux intersex boygirl, aroaceflux and pomoromantic ++ xenogenders

💊 pronouns: it/xe/lean/bullet/nuke (use any other and i will give 1 warning, and if u continue it will become a block.

💊 all of my aesthetics/subcultures (very passionate about them && will block if disrespectful): larpercore, juggalo, cultcore, doomer, slimepunk, necrotrap, bastardcore, terrorwave, incelcore, grunge, gopnik, slavic, jumpstylecore, oddcore, toxiccore, glowwave, icepunk, breakcore, acidwave, drvgcore, kinderwhore, trashcore, urbling, scemo, shinora, gurokawa, rokku gyaru, hadeko, clowncore, yamanba gyaru, maidcore

💊 i have some disorders,, iwc always ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა (i swear im nice)

💊 some of my main fandoms: fnaf, yandere simulator, class of 09, ddlc, lucky star, creepypasta, eddsworld, south park, monster high, tyler the creator lore, mlp, strawberry shortcake, homestuck, vocaloid, gorillaz, nijura maids (i dont support the creator 😕), cry of fear, touhou, anything dr suess ++ more

💊 top fictionkins;; ticci toby (crp), yakui-san (nijura maids), billy lenz, nicole (class of 09), kyle broflovski, wendy torrence, carrie white, sayori (ddlc), midori gurin (yansim), karkat vantas, bonnie (fnaf), tord (eddsworld), derpy hooves (mlp), tavros nitram, applejack (mlp), toko fukawa, biscuit tan, natsuki (ddlc), karen (class of 09), meatwad (athf), sayaka maizono, hamtaro, stanley mitchell, shitai-san, cassie (skins) clownpiece (touhou), flandre scarlett, cirno (touhou), takane yamashiro ++ wayy more.. (pfp is probably who im kinshifted as) also im fine with doubles & mediamates!!

💊 some of my favorite music artists;; smashing pumpkins, jazmin bean, sharkdrug, yabujin, korn, icp, limp bizket, kmfdm, nirvana, 2pac, 4lung (i dont support the creator), bloodhound gang, cannibal corpse, foo fighters ☹️, weezer, gorillaz, kendrick lamar, lagoyo, red hot chili peppers, tyler the creator, basement jaxx, pierce the veil, deftones, ayesha erotica, slipknot, msi, hole, sematary, live (band), dmx

💊 fave movies/shows: scream, saw, skins, the united states of leland, ANY tim burton movie, final destination, american psycho, the office, impractical jokers, south park, rick & morty, twilight, pulp fiction, amercian horror story, heathers, carrie, pet cemetery, breaking bad, mlp, edd ed and eddy, the twilight zone, goosebumps, athf, tmnt && others

💊 if you get triggered by drvgs or hospitals my blog is NAWT for you :o(

💊 moodboard account: @noapologiesbynirvana

💊 i have chronic sickness, and use hospitalcore/medcore to cope.

💊 pro dance dance revolution player 💯💯

💊 huuuuge mountain dew, surge & sprite fan

💊 feel free to ask for my discord !!

💊 dni: basic dni, anti fictionkin/otherkin/etc, anti furry, anti therian, transphobes, homophones, people who support trump (YOU'RE HORRIBLE!!!!), nsfw blogs, toxic stans (any community)

💊 gonna leave it at that for now,, might add more later !! ^_______^ 🌀🌀

[bluewinnerangel]

FITF Tour exit songs

- NA LEG - Uncasville: Tina Turner - The Best

Gilford: The Smiths - This Charming Man

Laval: Petula Clark - Downtown

Toronto: Bryan Adams - Summer Of '69

Cuyahoga Falls: The Verve - Bitter Sweet Symphony

Sterling Heights: Shed Seven - Chasing Rainbows

Cincinnati: The Killers - All These Things That I've Done

Columbus: R.E.M. - The One I Love

Indianapolis: Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart

Maryland Heights (St. Louis): Chuck Berry - Johnny B. Goode

Kansas City: Van Morrison - Moondance

Milwaukee: Johnny Nash - I Can See Clearly Now

Chicago: Earth, Wind & Fire - September

Minneapolis: Sinéad O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2 U

Council Bluffs: Buzzcocks - Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)

Sioux Falls: Don McLean - American Pie

Seattle: The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Vancouver: The Police - King Of Pain

Troutdale: Elvis Presley - Always On My Mind

Berkeley: INXS - Never Tear Us Apart

Los Angeles: 2Pac - California Love

Las Vegas: The Killers - Human

Phoenix: Spear Of Destiny - Liberator

Irving: The Doors - Hello, I Love You

Austin: Wheatus - Teenage Dirtbag

Houston The Woodlands: The Police - Walking On The Moon

St. Augustine: The Police - Every Breath You Take

Hollywood: Elton John - Your Song

Tampa: Pat Benatar - Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Atlanta: The Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want

Nashville: Duran Duran - Hold Back The Rain

Charlotte: Lou Reed - Perfect Day

Raleigh: Van Morrison - Moondance

Columbia: Commodores - Easy

Boston 1: Boston - More Than A Feeling

Boston 2: Pixies - Here Comes Your Man

Philadelphia: Sinéad O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2 U

Asbury Park: Bruce Springsteen - Dancing In The Dark

New York: Queen - We Are The Champions (dj elf asked a fan to pick between this one and David Bowie - Heroes)

- EU & UK LEG - Hamburg: Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart

Copenhagen: Queen & David Bowie - Under Pressure

Oslo: Green Day - Wake Me Up When September Ends

Stockholm: The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army

Helsinki: Elvis Presley - Always On My Mind

Tallinn: Smash Mouth - All Star

Riga: AC/DC - Thunderstruck

Kaunas: Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love

Krakow: Iggy Pop - Lust For Life

Łódź: Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop

Vienna: Oasis - Supersonic

Ljubljana: The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It

Budapest: Bloc Party - Helicopter

Bucharest: Foo Fighters - My Hero

Sofia: Rage Against The Machine - Bombtrack

Bilbao: Pixies - Where Is My Mind

Lisbon: White Lies - Farewell to the Fairground

Madrid: Editors - Munich

Barcelona: At the Drive-In - One Armed Scissor

Turin: Lenny Kravitz - Are You Gonna Go My Way

Bologna: Bloc Party - Helicopter

Luxembourg: Pixies - Where Is My Mind

Antwerp: Queens Of The Stone Age - My God Is The Sun

Paris: Biffy Clyro - Bubbles

Amsterdam: Blur - Song 2

Cologne: The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now

Prague: Jet - Are You Gonna Be My Girl

Berlin: The Cure - Friday I'm in Love

Munich: Fatboy Slim - Praise You

Zurich: The Strokes - Last Nite

Dublin: Inhaler - These Are The Days

Sheffield: The Killers - Mr. Brightside

Manchester: The Smiths - This Charming Man

Glasgow: The Snuts - Gloria

Brighton: Ramones - I Wanna Be Sedated

Cardiff: T. Rex - 20th Century Boy

London: The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now

Birmingham: Boyz II Men - End Of The Road

- ASIA & AUS LEG - Jakarta: Iggy Pop - Lust For Life

Melbourne: Jet - Are You Gonna Be My Girl

Brisbane: The Temper Trap - Fader

Sydney: Oasis - Rock 'N' Roll Star

- LATAM LEG - Panama: Hard-Fi - Living for the Weekend

San Juan: Pixies - Where Is My Mind

Rio de Janeiro: Nirvana - Heart-Shaped Box

Like last time the plan is to keep editing this post as tour goes on - 2022 LTWT here

Apple music playlist here

[bleach69]

NIRVANA, 19.08.90 - The Casbah, San Diego, CA 🇺🇸.

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 8

Ao3 | 3.5k Words | Darlin's POV

Quinn does show-and-tell. Angel sleeps fitfully. Darlin' (nearly) commits homicide. Sam pulls them away from the ledge. David sets foot on the scene.

TW: Threats, home invasion, injury, blood, sexual trauma, implied physical abuse, threats of rape, non-consensual filming of sexual acts, general Quinn bullshit.

Quinn Fox looked exactly the same as he had when you’d last seen him four months ago, sans being beaten within an inch of his life. His skin was still so pale it was nearly translucent, dotted in a handful of places by beauty marks. He still wasn’t adorned by any of the shitty tattoos that you were, that he had put there, that he claimed to love so much. What few he had peaked out from the sleeves of his pristine leather jacket, perfect and new and costing a fucking fortune. His blue eyes were still so pale that he had to squint in Max’s warm light. His teeth were still sharp and too many and nicotine stained. He’d go in for a bleach session next time he was in L.A.. 

“My precious thing,” he rose from his seat and tossed the paper napkin he’d spread in his lap to the ground, waving away the server casually. You watched her face drop as she turned away and retreated towards the counter, where the guy behind it was staring outright now. You’d only have a few minutes before they had enough of Quinn and kicked you out. It was a familiar countdown in the back of your mind. Nearly everybody had enough of Quinn eventually. You’d gotten the timing down to a science. 

“Don’t call me that.” You hissed. He reached out to you, one nimble hand with perfectly painted, black nails and bulky rings. Your mind supplied the feeling of those rings crunching across your cheekbones. “And don’t fucking touch me. Sit down.” You huddled into the booth, arms locked around your middle. There was still blood on your jacket from the last time you’d seen Quinn. 

“So touchy, Precious.” Quinn said, floating back down into his side of the booth. Sam sat down quietly next to you. His eyes flicked across Quinn quickly, almost casually. You watched him categorize Quinn’s skinny jeans, bought with rips and wear already sewed in, his Nirvana shirt, a band you knew he’d never listened to. God, he was such a fucking poser. You couldn’t fathom what about him had ever been enticing to you. “I implied you should come alone, you know.” He sneered towards Sam. 

“Yeah, well, the last time I was alone with you, you put me in a fucking coma, so…” you shrugged. You felt Sam’s eyes slip to you. That was a little tidbit you’d neglected to share with him. He’d have questions later on. You swallowed down the urge to deny them before he even asked. Instead, you brought one hand down to rest against his thigh, your fingers twisting up his uniform pants hard enough they would wrinkle. 

“True,” Quinn laughed, not even bothering to be decent enough to hide his glee. His eyes moved to Sam. “I assure you, they gave as good as they got, Sammy. Or- do you prefer ‘Captain Collins?’”Quinn grinned, his mouth pulling just a little too far on either side. You thought you were going to fall out. Behind that grin, that delighted twist to his stupid face, there was a familiar anger. He’d had that look about him when he put cigarettes out on your skin. He’d had that look about him when he’d fucked you so hard and hateful you couldn’t move for two days. “I was expecting the other one, Precious. Big, scary Captain Shaw. He’s a much better frame to hide behind.” 

“They ain’t hiding.” Sam spat. “And you’d be so lucky to be staring down Shaw instead of me.” 

“Is that so, cowboy?” Quinn laughed. It was a rasping, shrieking sound, like a predator barking out before it struck. Your hand tightened on Sam’s thigh. 

“It is.” Sam said. “David Shaw is a good man. He wouldn’t hurt ‘ya without cause. But I am not a good man.” 

“Whatever happened to ‘do no harm,’ Doctor?” Quinn cocked his head to one side. 

“I’m not a doctor anymore.” 

“Quinn,” you snapped, demanding his attention. Those bright eyes stuck on Sam for a moment longer. You slammed your phone down on the table. The photo of Little Shaw shone up at the three of you, accusatory. Sam gasped audibly when he saw it, going stiff. Quinn flicked his eyes down at it and laughed again. “What the fuck do you want?”

“That was almost too easy, you know?” He rested his chin atop his folded hands as he stared down at the picture. “I just had to pick a day when the good Captain was working the night shift. It’s so convenient that he takes you with him everywhere. I almost wish I had sent you this instead.” 

He produced his own phone and laid it on the table next to yours. It was newer, nicer, and the screen was giant. The big screen exposed a shaky video of the Shaw’s master bedroom from an angle you hadn’t seen yet. If you had to guess, it was through a crack in the closet door. Your stomach flipped as you leaned in close. Sam mirrored your posture. The camera panned from the plush, carpeted floor and towards the softly lit bed, on top of which Little Shaw was spread out, their phone in one hand and the other free. They were wearing one of David’s D.F.D. tee-shirts, which swallowed their frame like a robe. You watched as their hand trailed from the hem of the shirt and lifted, exposing their thighs, their waist, their fluttering stomach and chest. Sam cut his eyes away immediately, but you didn’t move until the audio kicked in. Little Shaw let out a moan, Quinn’s phone cranked up to top volume. Heads swiveled towards your booth. You slammed your hand down on the phone, fumbling for the volume button as you snatched it and tucked it close to your chest. 

“You fucking freak.” You hissed. You couldn’t even manage to be surprised, just vaguely nauseous. He was in the fucking closet. How long had he been in there?

“They rest so fitfully when the good Captain isn’t home.” Quinn mused, inspecting his nails. “I had to hush them back to sleep a handful of times to make sure I wasn’t caught. Nothing a quick cuddle couldn’t fix, of course.” 

He had touched them. You were going to commit homicide. 

“Quinn,” you growled through clenched teeth, “step outside.” 

“Darlin-” Sam started, grabbing your wrist in an attempt to ground you. You didn’t care if he wrapped his arms around your waist, if he pressed kisses to your temples, if he fucking took you right here in this booth in Max’s; no firm touch or soft word could pull you back down now. Quinn had touched them. He had filmed them in a vulnerable moment and then held them while they slept. All while David was fussing over you at the 10-19. You had distracted him. You had drawn his attention away from the people who really mattered and then delivered danger to his literal fucking bedroom. 

“Fuck you, move!” You shoved Sam hard, hard enough for him to stumble out of the booth and into the guy from behind the counter just as he came to interrupt the fight that was brewing in his dining room. 

“Captain Collins,” the guy said, catching Sam as he got his footing. You forgot how well known the 10-19 was on this side of town. You’d be surprised if Sam wasn’t a familiar figure to every person who worked here, and you’d dragged him into this. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, Guy,” Sam said, and go fucking figure, a literal pizza Guy. “We’re just leaving.” Guy’s gaze flicked from Sam to you to Quinn and back again. Sam must have given him a reassuring enough look, because he stepped aside. You surged up, knees shaky, and snagged Quinn by the collar of his designer leather jacket. He grunted but didn’t fight back as you pulled him out of the booth and towards the door. You pulled stares from the families adorning the booths and counter, and you probably looked like a rabid animal. You could picture your own expression, twisted and gnarled by the scars that cut through your face. You saw a kid flinch back and away from you as you passed his seat. 

The air was cold and sharp as you burst out of Max’s and started dragging Quinn towards the back parking lot. He let you, let you pull him along, let you toss him when you reached what you considered an acceptable distance from the building to kick his ass. You knew that, if he wanted to, Quinn could make it difficult for you, at the very least. He was strong, just as strong as you and twice as fast, twice as clever. You were a blunt object. You didn’t have it in you to strategize, to think through a fight as it happened. You could call Quinn a lot of horrible things, but one thing he was not was stupid. Not like you were. 

Your fist connected with his face before he could even get his footing. Pain burst out over your barely-healed knuckles with satisfaction. You grit your teeth and tried to step back, put some distance between you two. Your back met with the trunk of a silver sedan. Quinn held himself up, one hand on the grimy wall of Max’s industrial dumpster. Blood and bruise blossomed so prettily across his sharp cheekbone. He closed in as soon as he got his footing, boxing you in between him and the car. Your only way out was through. 

You’d been fighting the same way your entire life. You’d always been weaker than someone, you’d always been hungry and disadvantaged and outnumbered. So you took to the ground like a prey animal. You dove in, hit them where it hurt, and ran, put distance between you, let the hoard thin as they chased you so you could pick them off one by one. Quinn had always delighted in watching you dance around the battlefield, often of his own making. He liked to watch you scrap, fight dirty, pull hair and bite and scratch for eyes. 

He was so much taller than you and his reach seemed endless. When the two of you fought, he didn’t let you run. He made you stand in one spot and wail, hoping that your brute force was enough. 

That, more than anything he did to you, had always made you feel distinctly vulnerable. 

He came at you quickly, decisively, struck you hard in your ribs. His shitty ex must have told him where she’d done the same, because his aim was eerie. You gasped, the air knocked out of you, and locked an arm around his shoulders to keep him close. You drove your fist up, into his gut, punching for his diaphragm as your chest seized and fought to allow you any air. 

Quinn twisted out of your hold and swung his leg up, landing a kick to your stomach and sprawling you back against the sedan. You growled, near feral, and dove forward again. Quinn wanted you close, pinned down, vulnerable? You would show him just how dangerous you could be in close quarters. 

It was blurry after that. A series of hits, skin on skin, tearing fabric, blood and grunts. This was a familiar dance. The two of you had fucked, often, in fact, but for you this was a much more familiar type of intimacy. It was how your father, on the rare occasions he had been present in your childhood, had shown you his love. It was how your mother, for all of her virtues, had raised you. Since you were young, you’d been shown love most often by a firm right hand. Quinn was the latest in a long line of people who loved you with a fist. You filled up with the heady euphoria of it, got drunk on his little sounds, his curses and moans of pain, his high laughter like a predator’s ringing around in your swimming head. 

This is what you had seen in him. His eyes flashed, bluer than blue, catching yours a few times in the scuffle. You crushed your knuckles into his nose and knocked it askew. He called out your name, your real name. Fuck, it sounded like a plea, like a promise. 

He hit the ground before you did. You’d always had staying power, whether it had anything to do with your actual constitution or if it was tied up in your stupid, persistent stubbornness. Quinn was a child of abundance. You knew from the shape of him, no matter what games he liked to play, that he had never wanted for anything. That was the only advantage you had over guys like Quinn, guys like David. You had had to last before. Plenty of people had tried to starve you out, so when most people were bent with hunger pains, you did what you did best; soldiered on. 

“What do you want, Quinn?” You panted, hands on your knees. He spat out blood and smiled up at you with swollen cheeks. 

“I already told you, Precious.” Back to that stupid nickname. You wanted to kick him again, but he was already pushing himself up, getting his feet under him. “I want you.” 

“You are fucked in the head if you think I’d ever go back to you.” You growled. Your ribs ached. You wrapped a hand around your chest and held on. 

“No,” Quinn smiled at you as he stood. He had the nerve to look bashful. “I suppose not. That’s fine. All I want is… one last taste.” 

“What?” You breathed. 

“I want to fuck you.” He rolled his eyes, swiping a finger under his nose and coming back bloody. “One last time.” 

“Fuck off.” You scoffed. Your stomach was doing flips again. The idea of putting yourself in that position, vulnerable and bare under him, submitting yourself to Quinn’s particular brand of love, made you physically sick. 

Part of you was afraid you wouldn’t survive his one last time. Another part of you, somehow bigger, was afraid you would. 

You turned to leave, resolute, and caught sight of Sam. He was standing two yards off, watching silently on the edge of the parking lot. He seemed more concerned than anything, but there wasn’t an ounce of judgment in his severe features. You looked away. Holding his brown-eyed-gaze was unbearable. 

“I’ll get what I want somewhere, Precious.” Quinn called after you. “From someone. Remember, I’ve been inside their bedroom.” 

An image of Little Shaw flashed across your mind. Pressed against the floor, folded in half with Quinn between their legs, his teeth in their skin, burns littering their flawless skin, cuts waiting to scar from that ill-kept pocket knife he carried. Something in your chest snapped. Maybe it was a bone. Maybe it was your resolve. 

You crashed into Quinn, moving faster than you thought you could. His head banged back against the dumpster, his lips twisted into a fuck-you smile that you wanted to rip off of his face. You knew where he kept it in his stupid fucking jacket. His knife was in your hand before you could even think. The blade was opened, dried blood giving it a rusty look, and pressed into the juncture of his throat. You knew the bite of that blade. You’d had it pressed in that same spot a dozen times before. A line of blood ran down his throat, catching on his bobbing Adam's apple. He looked so fucking pretty in this light, the puff of his breath in the winter air smothering his features, blood smeared across his thin lips. 

You loved him. You had loved him, at least. Your body wouldn’t let you forget it. 

“If you ever fucking touch them, I’ll kill you!” You cried, a plea, a promise. “I’ll tear you to pieces, do you fucking get that? I’ll fucking kill you!” 

“Darlin’!” An arm locked around your middle and pulled you back. The knife clattered to the asphalt, wet with Quinn’s blood. His laughter crowded out any thought that might make itself known in your head. You thought you’d drown in the sound of it. 

Warmth at your back. The distance between you and Quinn grew. A soft voice taking up the space left behind as Quinn’s retreated. You were across the parking lot, across the road, in the passenger seat of Sam’s truck before you could think enough to start fighting. Sam didn’t stop talking. 

“I know, I know, Darlin’, I’ve gotcha. Gimme- yeah, there, come here-“ he grabbed your hand, squeezed it in time with his exaggerated breaths. You realized, suddenly, as Sam plopped into the driver’s seat and trapped you in the silent confines of his truck’s cabin, that you were crying. Wailing, actually. You hadn’t cried in years. Not since Gabe had died, and even that wasn’t anything like this. You bent at the middle, your seatbelt pulling at the bruises on your chest, and screamed. Sam’s hand snapped to the back of your neck. You thought he was likely trying to stabilize your spine. Paramedic training must have kicked in. His fingers tangled with your hair as he shushed you, cooed soft reassurances into the space between your cries. 

Eventually, your voice gave out. Eventually, your muscles unclenched, and you hung, chest to thighs, hugging yourself so hard you couldn’t breathe. Sam’s hand didn’t leave your hair until the car stopped, and only then to reach more of you. His cold, rough hands trailed up under your jacket, sought out skin, tugged you up until he could look you over. 

Your eyes met his, dark and wide and sure. 

He wasn’t scared. You didn’t know how he had managed that. You didn’t know how he managed to look at you the exact same way after that. 

“I’m sorry-“ you started, your mouth sharp with blood. 

“Don’t,” Sam snapped, his face twisting. He looked… pissed off. That you understood. That you could wrap your mind around. He wanted to be angry with you? That was fine. Better that than scared of you. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Come on, lemme get you inside. I need to take a look at you.” 

You looked up, took in your surroundings. The 10-19 stood, illuminated by street lights, across its long parking lot. You didn’t know how you’d missed that familiar drive. Your chest sparked with anxiety. David’s truck was still on the lot. He would see you. 

“I can’t.” You breathed. You shook your head, rebuking the very thought of David seeing you like this. And fuck, how could you explain why? He would kill you. He’d kick you out. He’d wash his hands of you. And as much as you were fighting his influence, his help, his care, you knew that you would come unraveled without it. If David was done with you, then that was it. Doors closed. No vacancy. 

“Darlin’-“ Sam started, reaching for you. Your phone started buzzing in your pocket. You startled, fumbling for it with your swollen, fucked up hands. Sam had delicately dabbed your knuckles with alcohol and gauze for days and you’d gone and wasted his work. 

David’s name lit up your screen. His shift was over and at this hour he was done worrying over the night shift. He was looking for you so he could go home to his invaded home and his endangered spouse. The prey animal in your chest jerked and you followed where it tugged you. You dropped your phone, stumbled out of Sam’s truck, tangling with the seatbelt. Your boots hit the asphalt and you ran. 

You didn’t realize, in your haste to run, hide, escape, that you’d started running towards the 10-19. You didn’t realize, as you stared down at your feet and tried to make yourself small, that you were running straight into David until you collided with his chest. 

You bounced back, let out a startled cry, and raised your fists. You didn’t know if it was to strike out or to protect your face, but it served the same purpose either way. David’s phone was still up to his ear, and his face was bare in shock as he looked you over. 

You stepped back like you were going to run. He was faster than you. His fingers threaded into your jacket and pulled you close. 

“What the fuck?” He barked, his face lined with anger and worry. 

Your body knew you were done. David’s hand held up your weight, and you went limp against your jacket. Whatever adrenaline had been holding you together slipped away and let you unravel. David hauled you to his chest by your jacket, cradled your head with one giant palm, wrapped his other arm around your still too-trim waist. 

“Sam!” He shouted, a definitive order. You were a walking house fire, and David took over as soon as he set foot on the scene. 

That was it, then. He’d seen you. He would know, or Sam would tell him. David would choose his spouse over you, which is what he should have done in the first fucking place. You’d be out on your ass in two hours flat. You’d run with less in worse shape in less time. But you couldn’t get your feet under you. You couldn’t get an inch of your body to obey your desperate orders. 

Doors closed. No vacancy.

[radiocurrency]

FANFICTION MASTERPOST

Hi, my name is Jay and I like to write gay vampire smut.

My AO3 account is brandedforeverlame

I am currently publishing a Devil's Minion fanfic series entitled 'If You Had Life Eternal'.

Almost all my fics are Rated E. All with Armand x Daniel as the main pairing unless otherwise stated.

1. Loving You's A Bloodsport

(4016 words)

Post 2x08 turning fic.

After Louis leaves the apartment in Dubai to head to NOLA, Armand decides to reveal all to Daniel.

2. Lestat and Daniel's Grand Adventure (Lessons In How To Provoke Your Maker)

(29,562 words) multichapter. COMPLETE. Lestat and Daniel friendship buddy fic.

It's been one year since Daniel was turned and he still hasn't heard from his maker.

Daniel decides (against his better judgement) to reach out to the only other immortal he knows besides Louis for help to track down Armand.

Also please check out the absolutely awesome fanart my lovely friend Anna @once-delight made for this fic right here. Anna is also the official beta reader for this fic.

3. My kingdom for a kiss upon his shoulder

(3,788 words)

San Francisco, 1978:

Daniel makes a spur of the moment decision and Armand reacts accordingly.

4. Arms Tonite

(4,760 words)

Yes. The fisting fic -

It lay on their kitchen bench, framed in golden light which streamed in through the window of their Tuscan apartment.

“Uh… whose arm is that?”

~~

Daniel has never been fisted and when Armand offers to change that, Daniel can't help but make a comment that brings out the Gremlin™️

5. To All Besotted Souls

(2,564 words)

The first time Armand and Daniel have sex during the chase years.

Pompeii Ruins, Naples, 1976

And now he was here - waiting on this strange demon with whom he was pretty sure he was in love with.

Could you fall in love with the monster under your bed?

Could you fall in love with a guillotine blade as it hung over your neck?

6. My Casual God

(1854 words)

Rashid!Armand x Daniel smut. Before the reveal.

Daniel saw an image of Rashid wearing that fucking low cut v neck black shirt. His dick twitched in interest and he squeezed it gently

Fuck. Wow, Ok. He was going there apparently.

7. Pass the Nirvana

(1590 words)

Daniel has a pussy + impact play

If Daniel was sleeping and Armand wanted his body it was a no brainer.

Wake him the fuck up!

~~

In which Daniel gets a little more than he imagined.

8. So Glad To Meet You (Angeles)

WIP. Multichapter (2 up to far)

Based around my OC Tyler Molloy - Daniel's Grandson. DM as background pairing but focused on Tyler's story and Molloy family bonding/issues/dynamics

Daniel Molloys grandson, Tyler, had an escape plan. He was getting the fuck out of New York and to a fresh start in Los Angeles where he could finally live authentically as himself. He just had to steal his Step Dad's credit card, book a flight, and tell NO ONE where he was going until he got there

Especially not Aunty Kate...

Or Daniel and Armand.

What could go wrong?

--------

And there's plenty more on it's way. I'm almost always writing and love to talk to any fellow DM writers. Please feel free to follow/ask/dm me :)

[shinestarhwaa]

ATEEZ Masterlist

OT8/Multiple members

You’ve got a friend in me (WooSanHwa smut)

Thirsty (WooSanHwa x reader Smut)

Hotelroom (WooSanHwa x reader smut)

Say My Name (OT8!Ateez x reader smut)

Only My Name (OT8!Ateez x reader smut but Wooyoung centric,, smut/angst) (pt2 of Say My Name)

One Kiss (SanSang x reader smut)

Like A Champ (WooSan x reader smut)

Served (WooSan x reader smut)

Inception (WooSan x reader smut)

Provocative (SanHwa x reader smut)

Chasing That Feeling (SeongJoong x reader smut)

What Happens In London (YunSanHwa x reader smut)

Truth Or Dare (OT8 Smut)

Fantasize (San centered but OT8 smut)

Lovegame (Woosanxreader)

New World (OT8 smut)

Benefits (SanHwa x Reader)

Hongjoong

6cm (smut)

Yes, master (smut)

Backstage Business (smut)

Knight of Pentacles (smut)

Honey (Are You Coming?) (smut)

One Last Time (smut, angst)

Quick (smut)

Please Please Please (smut, angst)

Seonghwa

Desire (smut)

New Horizons (smut)

Pancakes (Fluff)

Addicted (smut)

Aphrodite (smut)

King Of Swords (angst, smut)

Lady Of The Night (smut)

Hello Kitty (smut)

Eyes Roll (smut)

Moonlight (smut)

Paradise (smut)

Inferno (smut)

Crazy Form (smut)

On-Call (smut)

Fallen Angel (smut)

Law&Order (smut)

Yunho

Sweet Dreams (fluff)

Don’t You Worry (fluff)

Practice Round (smut)

Pretty Tiny (Smut)

Chariot (fluff)

Wake Up (smut)

Callin (smut)

Yeosang

The History teacher PART 1 (fluff)

The History teacher PART 2 (smut)

Ace Of Cups (smut)

Lip Gloss (smut)

Shimmer (smut)

Physical (smut with a smidge of angst&fluff)

San

Everytime (fluff, smut)

Waterfall (fluff, smut)

Falling (angst, fluff)

Neon (smut)

Asked For It (smut)

Asked For It PART 2 (smut)

I Promise (Angst)

Attention (smut, angst)

Movie Star (smut)

Ruby (smut)

Ruby Part 2 (smut)

Seven of Pentacles (smut, fluff)

Enemy (smut)

City Lights (smut)

Panty Stealer (smut)

The Butler (smut)

Lovers Lane (fluff)

Daddy Dearest (smut)

Deep Dive (smut)

Mingi

The morning after (fluff)

Nirvana (smut)

The Devil (smut)

Cam Girl (smut)

Exile (angst)

MingiWonka (smut)

Wooyoung

FEEL (Smut)

DIRRTY (Smut)

Flash (Angst, fluff)

No Homo (smut) 

Maybe Homo (smut, part 2 of No Homo)

Temperance (fluff,smut)

Birthday Celebrations (smut)

The Boy Who Got Misunderstood (angst, fluff, smut)

You&Me (smut)

Thirsty (smut)

Poison (smut)

Good Lil Boy (smut)

Autumn (fluff)

IT's YOU (smut)

Getaway car (smut,angst,fluff)

Jongho

Come And Go (Angst)

Happy To Help (smut)

Seven Of Cups (Angst, fluff)

Chances (smut)

[stqrryeyez]

deadpool!ghost (a playlist)

gang... went and saw deadpool vs wolverine today. opening instantly had me thinking of ghost, even tho i'm a price girlie at heart.

STILL TAKE YOU HOME - arctic monkeys (DON'T FEAR) THE REAPER - blue oyster cult CARELESS WHISPER - george michael BASTARD - motley crue BOOGIE WOOGIE WOO - insane clown posse GOLD DIGGER - kanye west, jamie foxx FUCKIN' IN THE BUSHES - oasis CHANGE (IN THE HOUSE OF FLIES) - deftones WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE - guns n' roses CREEP - radiohead SABOTAGE - beastie boys DEALER - lana del rey FAKE TALES OF SAN FRANCISCO - arctic monkeys ANDREW IN DRAG - the magnetic fields THE MAN WHO SOLD THE WORLD - nirvana (a david bowie cover) WICKED GAMES - HIM ACE OF SPADES - motorhead HOKUS POKUS - insane clown posse

ok wtv this took way too long my spotify is here if you wanna follow. some of these are more based on simon and some more on deadpool but they work together ok? ok.

[redsamuraiii]

Fuji : If I might suggest, the port of Ito and the Yokose should be included in within the Anjin-san's fief. Toranaga : Why? Fuji : Ito in case Anjiro is not big enough. Perhaps bigger slipways be necessary for such a big ship. Anjin-san's interested in the sea. So are you. It was my duty to learn about ships and shipping, and when we heard the Anjin-san's ship was burned I wondered if it would be possible to build another, and if so, where and how. Izu is a perfect choice, Sire. It will be easy to keep Ishido's armies out. Toranaga : And why Yokose? Fuji : Yokose because a hatamoto should have a place in the mountains where you could be entertained in the style you have a right to expect. Toranaga was watching her closely. Fuji appeared so docile and demure but he knew she was as inflexible as he was and not ready to concede either point unless he ordered it. Toranaga : I agree. I'll consider what you said. Fuji : Thank you, Sire. She said humbly, glad that she had done her duty to her master and repaid her debt to Mariko. Ito for its slipways, and Yokose where Mariko had said their "love" had really begun. Mariko : Our journey here has brought me more joy than I have the right to expect in twenty lifetimes. Fuji : I beg you to protect him in Osaka, Mariko-san. So sorry, he's not like us. His nirvana is life and not death. That's still true, she thought, blessing Mariko's memory. Mariko had saved the Anjin-san, no one else, not the Christian God, or any gods, not even Toranaga, no one - only Mariko alone. Toda Mariko-noh-Akechi Jinsai had saved him.

James Clavell's Shogun (1975), Chapter 61, Page 1108

[roquewithq]

INTRO: DEFINITIVE EDITION

Hello!! Good morning, evening or night!!

My name is Roque, and, today, I will make a DEFINITIVE pinned post, because I think my carrd and other intros did not suffice.

Here is an introduction to my identity, and if I seem interesting to you, maybe we could be friends!!

I am Roque,

I am 16 years old(26/03),

He/Him,

Bisexual (With no particular preference [Although that's just an easy answer], I think),

and from Mexico!! More specifically, from Mexico City. (My first language is Spanish, but as you can see, I can also speak English, and a little bit of Esperanto.) I am also on the autism spectrum.

I mostly listen to Rock in Spanish and Grunge rock, although I also listen to Post-Punk, Jazz, and Blues

Among my favorite artists and bands, you will find;

-Patricio Rey Y Sus Redonditos De Ricota (ABSOLUTE FAVORITE!)

-Depresión Sonora

-Nicolás y Los Fumadores

-Nirvana

-BB King

-Luis Alberto Spinetta

-Pappo

-Among others....

I enjoy writing and drawing, though in a place like Tumblr, it's nothing special. I too have a minor interest in philosophy.

I also play the guitar!! I own a Yamaha electroacoustic guitar, a Yamaha Pacifica HSS Stratocaster, and a Cort CR100

And, as any normal teenager, I also like videogames [Garry's Mod, Ultrakill, Half-life 1 and 2, Cry Of Fear, Afraid Of Monsters, Shrine 2, Grand Theft Auto (3, Vice City, San Andreas)] and The Binding Of Isaac (Wrath Of The Lamb + Repentance).

More recently,I've gotten into HOMESTUCK, maybe unfortunately

WHAT CAN BE OBSERVED IN THIS BLOG?

Random thoughts and feelings I have

Things about electric guitars

Drawings (very rarely)

Etc

I SUPERBLY WANT NEW FRIENDS!!

These past few days I've been feeling very lonely, so, I really really want people to add to my small list of friends!

It doesn't really matter who* you are, I would love to be your friend!! I am available most days, but might be inactive because of school.

I promise to be a good friend!!

*DNI

-Basic DNI criteria (Queerphobes, r4cists, proshippers, etc)

I don't believe I have much else to say... But, oh! Here's my carrd, too! It's themed after ¡Bang! ¡Bang! ... Estás Liquidado, an album by Patricio Rey y Sus Redonditos de Ricota!

https://roquewithq.carrd.co

Alright, that is all, please have an excellent day, evening or night.

Signed, Roque