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lullabyes22-blog · 1 month ago

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Snippet - In a Jam - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

When the bond goes from sweet to septic...

tw: possessive behavior, control issues, parental abuse.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"Wow," Jinx drawled, "you really got yourself into a jam, Silly. Question is: is it strawberry with extra goop, or raspberry with extra seeds? Both'll give ya the squirts."

"Trust you to think with your bowels, Jinx."

Silco stood by the bay window, backlit by the smoldering neon cityscape. He wore his grimmest expression: all crags and canyons, and a furrowed brow so deeply grooved it'd be fit to sow seeds. It was the forbidding shell he retreated into whenever the stress levels skyrocketed and a bloodbath loomed on the horizon.

Jinx had seen the look, more and more, as her body healed and the city fell to ruin. Conversely, she found it reassuring. Silco was no Prince Valiant, even at his most mellow. And he needed to project menace to the masses, so they wouldn't drag his guts out through his nostrils. But the menace was by no means skin deep. It went down to his marrow: that fiendish focus that kept him honed utterly on his target.

And when you knew him the way Jinx knew him, you knew he'd never miss.

The cicatrix between her ribs twinged.

It was a reminder: Silco had split her open to carve a path of repossession through her ribcage. He'd do it again without a second thought. He'd do whatever it took to put her back together again, like the rest of Zaun.

And his hands were still red and dripping.

It should've unsettled Jinx. But she couldn't dredge the feelings up. They were buried too deep: the kind of place you didn't go digging unless you wanted the ground to split beneath you, and send you plunging straight to hell.

So she shrugged.

"C'mon, Silly! It's just a joke."

She flopped back into bed. Her muscles, like overcooked noodles, couldn't endure more than the day's physical therapy before they sang the body brownout. She was bored of her bedroom; bored of being weak; and so terribly bored of being bored that she'd rather take a chance on an Enforcer's bayonet, than sit out the fray for a moment longer.

Silco, reading her mind, turned to face her.

"You will not set foot out there," he said. "You will stay here. Is that understood?"

"But—"

"Is that understood?"

A direct command.

Jinx hated direct commands. They were an insult to her intellect. She wasn't a diligent little droid, like Sevika. She was Jinx, dammit! Jinx did as she damn well pleased. It wasn't her style to stay cooped up in the suite, stewing, when the rest of her world was aflame. It especially wasn't her style to obey, if Silco took a tone with her. It meant he was trying to tell her something that his ego couldn't spit out on its own.

Him and his ego. Jinx could practically see the whole of Zaun balanced precariously on its lofty peak.

But she knew him well enough to know what sat underneath: a plea.

Jinx sighed, and propped herself up against the pillows.

"I can help," she argued. "If I keep to the shadows, nobody'll notice—"

"It's a risk I won't take."

"C'mon, Silly! The city needs to see me! I'm the Postergirl of the Revolution. I'm the face of your cause. I'm—"

"Not ready."

A chill descended. Deja vu, like gooseflesh, pricked down her spine. She remembered Vi saying that, the night she left the first time. The night that started it all, so Vi left-right-left every night thereafter.

A reminder that Jinx would never be ready; she was the unfinished girl. The screw-up; the screw-loose. And not even death could complete her. All it did was spit her out, unfinished as ever.

Imperfect.

The cicatrix twinged, again, like an invisible fishhook tugging on her rib.

"Is it—because of what I did?" Jinx asked. "Because I messed up? Are you punishing me?"

The room's emotional acoustic was a minefield of echoes. Silco, usually quicksilver, seemed frozen in place.

"Jinx—"

"Because—if you are, you should just say it! I'll take my lumps like a grownup. Just—please!—don't lock me up. I know—the mess we're in is my fault. I know me and Vik fu—fudged things up. But he's out there doing his part to set it right! Why not me? I can help too. You just have to let me try!"

She didn't want to beg. Begging made you small. Like a little girl needing attention. Jinx was neither of those things. Need was Vi's MO. The need to save everyone, the need to fight unbeatable odds and chase unwinnable dreams.

The need to run and run and never, ever stop running.

Silco stayed.

His silhouette shifted in the gloom. One of the overhead lamps flickered. It'd been doing that for days: the city grid was on the fritz. The faulty filament flared, then faded. The room's shadows, so sharp, receded like fangs back into the gums.

In their place, Silco's real expression emerged. The cragged exterior had sloughed away, leaving something soft and sad behind.

"Oh, child," he murmured. "You don't understand."

He took the armchair at her bedside. Didn't touch her, but leaned in, the better for her to see him, if her eyes weren't so damn blurry.

"I have not locked you up," he said. "But I need you out of harm's way. For good reason, Jinx. You were not at death's door. You were six feet under it, and heading straight to hell. Viktor's intervention saved you, yes. But to what end? To put you in the crosshairs of the bastards who'd see you dead?"

Jinx knuckled her eyes with a fist. The blur became a burn.

"It's not so simple," she insisted, because there was a point to be made here, if only she could articulate it. "If you're gonna stand against those baddies, you'll need my help! They'll keep coming, and they don't stop coming, and—well. You know the song."

Silco smiled grimly.

"I do, Jinx. But if you want me to play to the chorus, I'm afraid you've picked the wrong partner."

"I thought that's what we were," she sniffled. "Partners."

He shook his head.

"A partnership implies equals. You're not my equal, Jinx. You're my better. You always have been. But if I am to be anything of value in return—then you have to let me do what's best. You have to trust me."

The fishhook between her ribs twisted.

Jinx's throat was tight, eyes wet.

"Okay," she said, very quietly. "Okay."

He didn't relax. But the tension ebbed by degrees, a seismic undertow.

"Thank you."

Reaching out, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The fingertips lingered on her cheek, cold on hot. Jinx, shivering, melted into the touch.

Somehow, in the interceding days, he'd scaled back on the little rituals of affection. The ones that were nearly second nature. The hug hello, the forehead kiss goodnight, the absent shoulder-squeeze: they were all in abeyance, and had been since The Change.

At first, she'd been too discombobulated to notice. She was still coming to grips with her own body; with the metal on her hand; with the magic in her mind; with the emotions divvied between herself and Viktor.

Between the old Jinx, and the new.

She couldn't handle the additional stimulus. And she'd been too overwhelmed, too out of it, to pinpoint the missing element.

Until now.

She missed his touch, cold though it was.

Not the hugs; or the kisses. Those were nice. But they were part and parcel of fatherhood, and Silco wore it with the same gravity as his killer's cowl, the mantle draped darkly over him like it was born there. They were part of the duty he'd charged himself with, the night he'd found that lost little girl, then taken her home and renamed her after his own black heart.

They were his, and he gave them freely.

Now there was a rationing.

On cue, his hand began to retreat. Impulsively, Jinx caught it in both her own.

"If," she said, and there was a quaver in her voice she couldn't repress, "If you're gonna make me sit on the sidelines, then at least lemme help in other ways."

"What way?"

"Viktor's got his hands full with the disaster in the Deadlands. I wanna be useful too. I wanna—fix things." She squeezed his hand. "I'll go through my schematics in the Aerie. The stuff that didn't make the cut for the Expo. Old models for air-scrubbers. Moisture meters for water levels. Structural drying systems. Maybe even something that purifies the air, if I can make the numbers work." She bit her lip, hard enough to sting. "I will make the numbers work. I swear!"

His hand turned beneath hers. Their fingers twined. They didn't fit perfectly any longer: her augmented metal, his flesh and bone. But they fit the way she and Silco always had. The broken gaps filled with love; the jagged edges polished killingly sharp by rage.

"You'll fix this?" he asked, and for all his gravitas, he was a man on tenterhooks. "For Zaun?"

She nodded. Big firm up-and-down. "And for you."

Silco's face remained shadowed by doubt. But a soft pride lit his mismatched eyes from within. His thumb brushed across her knuckles. It snagged, gently, on the metal joints.

"All right," he said.

A hot-pink arrow smote Jinx's heart. The feeling of coming back from a place of death. Before she could lose her nerve, she asked him the question she'd been holding back since the day she awoke in the suite.

"Silco?"

"Yes?"

"Where—where's Gemmie?"

The Hex-gem hadn't been in her bedroom. Or anywhere in the penthouse. She knew, because she'd searched. Because she'd feel it, same way she felt, like a prickle of warmth at her hairline, whenever sunlight steeped the Fissure noon. She knew it wasn't lost, because she could still sense its presence in Zaun, the same way she knew the exact time on a sunless day: a pulsing node of light in the dark.

A ghostly pain; her own.

Silco's features shifted. He didn't respond, which was a response in and of itself. As was the way he began, very carefully, to extract his hand.

Jinx tightened her hold. But he'd withdrawn, the shell back in place. The tenderness was gone.

He stood.

"The Hex-gem," he said, "is in a secure location. Where it will not fall into the wrong hands. Or do further damage. To Zaun—or to yourself."

Jinx's breath jittered. The fishhook between her ribs, yanked sharply, messily loose.

"Where's Gemmie!?" she cried, tears leaping into her eyes. "I want her back!"

"Jinx," he said. "No."

It wasn't the father's patient refusal. Or the kingpin's measured warning.

This was a stranger's voice.

The man she'd first seen in the burning alleyway. His face, all sharp lines licked in flames, a knife hidden behind his back and shadows slinking behind his eyes.

It was a voice that brooked no disobedience; a voice that meant death to all who crossed him.

It was a voice Jinx loathed, instinctively. Loathed it so much she wanted to sink her teeth into his throat, and rip it out, and spray bloodsplatter across the room.

But she'd been weak too long. Relied on him too much. Let the fear of loss and loneliness become her shadow, following her, step-for-step, everywhere she went.

She couldn't hate him. Not yet. It'd take all the will she possessed.

So she did what came naturally.

She burst into tears.

It was an ugly cry: terrible, bestial, high-pitched wails. She couldn't help it. The reaction was visceral. The pain of separation from her other self; lurking in her peripheral for weeks, was now a searing throb in her temples. But the sight of him—so implacable, so immovable, a monster in all the ways that mattered—is what shocked her into shrieking, agonized wakefulness.

"You can't! She's mine! She's me! You can't take her away!"

Silco, flint-faced, made no reply.

"Why?!" She beat the pillow, then hurled it across the room. It was an inadequate substitute. She needed to break, maim, destroy. Else her grief would rip out through the seam her sutures had sealed shut. The split he'd made himself, that terrible night when she'd burst, and everything had come pouring out. "Why why why why—"

"Jinx," he said. "Hush."

"Not until you tell me why!"

"It's for your own safety! It's unstable. It nearly destroyed you! Nearly killed us all!"

"That wasn't the gem! That was the magic overloading! Like—like a power-grid exploding after a lightning strike! It's not her fault! It was the Void—the magic—just being a big bully!"

"I've no time for semantics, Jinx. It is what it is. And I'll be damned if I give it to you, and see it blow a hole through your chest!"

"The gem didn't do that!" she exploded. "That was you!"

Silco fell still. Jinx was no longer crying. A deep rage had overtaken her, the kind that could not be expressed in anything other than violence. Not the violence of action, but the violence of words. And the ones that hurt the most were the ones she hadn't dared speak of, and that he hadn't dared admit, in all the days since The Change.

The truth.

"It was you," she repeated. "All of it! You—pushing me to be the biggest and baddest, because otherwise our enemies were gonna chew Zaun up, and spit it out like bubblegum. You—keeping Vi away from me, when all she wanted was to love me and all I wanted was to love her! You—afraid I'd become Powder again. Be a useless weakling who always needed saving. Well, guess what? The joke's on you, Silco. You got me right where you wanted! I'm stuck in this bed with nowhere to go and nobody to save and no idea how I'm gonna make a comeback! I'm the weak one now, and that's all I'll be if you keep Gemmie away. I won't have anything to work for. Anyone to fight for. Nothing to believe in." Tears streaked her cheeks. "Nothing except the love that put me in that hole in the first place."

By the end, her voice had lapsed to a ragged whisper. The anger bled out, leaving her weak, shivery, exhausted.

Silco was still as a stone. The only motion was his chest, rising slowly up and down. His lips were deathly pale. The Devil eye was the color of a thrombosed vein.

"You blame me," he said, and there was a rawness to his voice at odds with the stoic expression.

"I do," Jinx seethed.

The silence cut deep.

"You blame me," Silco repeated. "And so be it. It doesn't change my decision. The Hex-core stays locked, where it won't hurt you—or Zaun. I don't trust it, and I never have. It's too powerful for anyone's hands. Yours least of all."

"Because you don't trust me," Jinx said bitterly. "Because I couldn't deliver the goods to your door, and now I'm a liability."

The vein in his temple pulsed.

"Because," Silco countered, "magic, as I've always suspected, is an indiscriminate force that will devour its wielder from the inside-out. You are not immune, Jinx. I will not let it take you. Even if it means taking drastic measures. You will not have the gem back, because I will not let you die. That's final."

"I hate you!"

Silco reacted with a suddenness that shocked Jinx. He crossed the space between them in three strides and took her face in his hands. It wasn't a gentle grasp. The pressure left indentations in Jinx's cheeks: cold, then burning. His eyes were the same.

It felt less like a connection than an implosion, the gravity well between them pulling everything inward, the world collapsing around them, leaving only him and her at its burning center.

Them, and a love so barbed it hurt to touch.

"Then do," Silco said, and there was an undercurrent to his voice that made her nauseous. Ice, bilge, and pure black ichor "Hate me. Curse me. Send me, or all of Zaun, to hell for all I care. Because I don't care, Jinx. Not anymore."

The lamp, overhead, flickered again. Jinx said nothing.

"All I want," Silco went on, "all I'll ever want, is to keep you alive. Because you are my daughter. Mine. And if you think a few weeks' bonding with a stone will change that, then I've done an awful job of proving it. I've lost everything, Jinx. I lost Vander. Lost Nandi. Lost my youth and my sight and half the flesh on my face. And if the magic is going to consume the only thing I have left, then it will take nothing at all. Do you understand?"

Jinx was trembling. Not fear; or anger. Only the hollowed-out ache that comes when a deeply cherished faith is proven a sham. A false-god, whose favor would be revoked in a heartbeat should the real threat rear its ugly head.

Her, and him, and the city they once called home.

"Yes," she whispered.

The pressure on her cheeks eased. The pad of his thumb, gently, met the corner of her left eye, then her right. They came away damp. All her tears were spent. There was a strange clarity to the absence: a sense of loss that was, at the same time, a lightness.

A single feather that could set a body to flight.

"I'll have the Aerie prepared," Silco told her. "Tomorrow, under supervision, you may resume work. Th Hex-gem stays under lock and key. If I catch the faintest hint that you're trying to find it, or take it for yourself—"

"You won't," she said.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Jinx's eyelids drooped. Her head spun. Her ribs hurt. She slumped. He guided her into the pillows. She was dimly aware of him tucking the duvet around her, loving and lethal and leaving her cold.

Kissing her forehead, he straightened. The lightbulb's flickering intensified, its dying filament flashing on, then off. His features, as he loomed in, came in glimpses of shadow.

Jinx reminded herself that monsters were monsters because of their hunger, not the form they took to satisfy it. Silco was no different; and the thing he hungered for most was her heart.

Too bad Jinx was a monster, too. And monsters were always hungriest when their own was threatened.

"I love you," he whispered.

Then he left.

The door fell shut, a thunderclap. Above, the lamp flickered: a final, spastic flash. It was a blade pressed against the throat of Jinx's sanity, a hair's width from cutting clean through.

Then the bulb fizzed out. Darkness flooded the room, thick as blood, filling every nook and cranny. And all Jinx saw was red, red, red—

She screamed, and threw the nearest projectile: a bedside lamp, which shattered into shards against the hardwood.

Silco was gone.

Her anger remained: a heatwave under her skin.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #silco #arcane vi #arcane violet #vi #violet #jinx and vi #silco and jinx

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 2 years ago

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...the unholy flames of ♥kink!week♥ burn brightly...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ on this unholy wednesday we explore the unsafe and the insane, but we stay in the realm of consensual — for now ∼

∼ day three brings us our beloved headmistress ♥ Larissa Weems ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

tags: #foot fetish #face-fucking #stiletto heels #high heels #heel blow job #toe sucking #degradation #degradation kink #verbal humiliation #humiliation #toxic relationship #unhealthy relationships #dom/sub #masturbation #orgasm denial #orgasm delay #mistress/slave undertones #mean!larissa weems #dom!larissa weems #kink!week

pathetic (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

“Pathetic.” Larissa’s voice is tainted with disgust. She smushes your cheek with the sole of her red stiletto pump. “You’re only fit to be dirt under my shoe.”

You whimper, and she presses on your face harder. “I know you get off on this, slut. I bet you’re wet right now.”

It’s true — and you’re so ashamed, but you don’t want her to stop. You press your thighs together, wanting to give yourself some sort of relief, and she immediately notices. In a swift move, she removes her foot from your face and kicks your legs apart, then jams the pointy toe of her pump against your pussy — hard. You wince in pain and take in a sharp breath, but you don’t cry out — she forbade you to speak beforehand.

“You disgust me,” she spits out. Her nose scrunches as she says it, and you hate yourself because you can’t stop thinking about how attractive she looks when her face is twisted with disgust for you.

She moves her foot away from your crotch and walks away, heels clicking on the wooden floor of her office — and then the sound stops. You can’t see where exactly she is because you’re lying on the floor, facing the ceiling.

“Crawl.”

You immediately get on all fours. Your pussy aches where she hit you, your knees burn as they press against the hard floor, and you can feel how wet you are as you crawl. You think how pathetic you must look — crawling on all fours in her office, clad only in your now completely soaked underwear. You know she’ll make you stay in those for the rest of the day.

She’s leaning against her desk, her legs crossed at the ankles, staring down at you like a queen looking down upon a worthless servant. You take her in, your mouth watering as your gaze wanders from her beautiful face to her elegant neck, then to her small breasts and the soft curve of her belly, to her wide hips and her thick thighs pulling the dress taut.

“Who gave you permission to gawk? Eyes at my feet.”

You immediately obey. Her feet and calves look delectable in red pumps that match her lips and nails. You fix your gaze onto them as you crawl to her, stopping at her feet.

“Lie down on your back. You can look at me now.”

You do as you’re told. “That’s it. Roll over like a fucking dog.”

She pokes your cheek with her stiletto heel, softly at first, then pressing harder — so hard it hurts. “I could just do this all day and you’d be grateful for the attention. Such a needy, worthless whore.”

She brings the heel of her shoe to your lips. “Suck.”

You start sucking on the thin heel as she pushes it in and out of your mouth.

“You love having your mouth fucked, don’t you, slut?” she says, her voice growing husky with lust. You suck on the heel harder, taking it deeper into your mouth — as much of it as you can. She lets out a quiet gasp, as if she can feel it. “That’s it, take all of it.”

She fucks your mouth slowly and deeply, pushing the heel in so far that you gag, and then pulling out almost all the way. You lick and suck on it fervently. Your back hurts from lying on the hardwood floor, but you pay it no mind — all your attention is solely focused on the goddess above you.

You watch her, mesmerised, as she abuses your mouth. She looks beautiful, her chest slightly heaving, her cherry red lips parted, her eyes dark with desire. You never break eye contact — not even as tears blur your vision when you gag on her heel. You just can’t get enough of her blue eyes and the lust reflected in them.

She starts going faster, breathing hard as she pushes the heel in and out, her movements growing more urgent by the second until suddenly she pulls the heel fully out of your mouth with a wet pop. With her other foot, she quickly kicks the shoe off. It tumbles to the ground next to your head. You notice her toenails are also painted the same red as her pumps.

She forces all of her toes inside of your mouth and continues to fuck your mouth with her bare foot, making you drool and whimper. You lick and suck on her toes, trying to take in as much of her as you can, and she moans and grips the table harder.

“Suck on each toe,” she breathes out.

You take her big toe in your mouth first, sucking on it hard, and she draws in a sharp breath. You take your time worshipping each toe and soon she starts letting out soft moans, and then she’s lifting up her skirt and slipping her hand between her legs. She starts rubbing her clit as you continue to reverently suck on her toes.

“Tongue out,” she commands, then pulls her toes out and pushes the sole of her foot over your open mouth, rubbing it on your tongue. “Fuck yes,” she says through gritted teeth, moving her foot faster and faster, rubbing her sole back and forth over your tongue, smushing your face and hitting your nose with her toes.

Her movements are growing more and more frantic — she frenetically slides her foot over your face and feverishly rubs her clit. The air is filled with your soft whimpers, her moans, and the slick sound of her wetness.

“Suck,” she then says and pushes her toes back in your mouth, her voice breathy with lust. “I wanna fuck your face when I come.”

You lick and suck on her toes as she starts rubbing her clit even faster. “You love it when I fuck your face with my foot, hm? Suck, don’t stop,” she pants out. “Pathetic slut, only good for having your face fucked — ah! — fucking dirt under my feet — mmm, fuck—” she cries out, pushing herself over the edge, pressing her thighs together as her belly muscles contract and her brows furrow, her mouth opening in a silent cry.

You continue sucking and licking until she pulls her toes out of your mouth. She gently rubs her pussy through the aftershocks, watching you with hooded eyes, as she smears your own saliva all over your face with her foot. When she comes down from her high, she removes her foot from your face and pulls her discarded heel closer with her toes, before sliding her foot inside of it again.

You lie on the floor, waiting for further instruction. Your back aches, your pussy throbs, and your panties are absolutely soaked. You can still feel the salty aftertaste of her foot in your mouth — you adore it.

You’ve been so good. You hope she will reward you with an orgasm — at least let you get yourself off. However, she pays no attention to you as she pulls her dress back down over her thighs, smoothing it, nor as she grabs the disinfectant from her desk and rubs it over her hands. She leaves you lying on the floor as she circles her desk, heels clicking. You can hear her sitting down in her chair.

“Mistress?” you ask.

“Did I say you could speak?”

“But—”

Her phone rings.

“Hello, Principal Weems speaking,” she answers, voice perfectly level and professional, as if she didn’t just come all over her fingers with her foot in your mouth.

You lie on the floor, listening to her talk on the phone. It’s taking forever, and you’re in pain, and still so incredibly aroused and frustrated. However, you don’t move — you wait for her to tell you what to do.

After a torturously long time, she gets up from her desk, walks around it, and then stands above you, phone in her hand. You hear someone talk on the other end of the line, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. You catch her gaze and give her a pleading look, but she only gestures with her perfectly manicured arm, for you to get lost.

“But—” you start, but she gives you a look that makes you immediately get up from the floor and scurry towards the pile of your discarded clothes. You dress, stealing glances at her, but she pays no mind to you. She’s still talking on the phone, saying the occasional “yes” and “of course” while absentmindedly nodding.

Once fully dressed, you walk to her desk, your panties uncomfortably wet and sticky with every step you make. You stand next to her chair, trying to get her attention. She ignores you for a bit, and then finally deigns to eye you up and down, a disinterested look in her eyes.

“Yes,” she says to the person on the other end of the line as she grabs a piece of paper and a pen from her desk. “We can discuss that at the parents’ conference next Thursday.”

She scribbles down on the paper. When she’s done, she pushes it towards you. She waits a couple of seconds for you to read it.

Tomorrow, 7pm sharp. Don’t touch yourself until then. Stay in these knickers until the end of the day. If you disobey, I’ll know.

She then turns towards the window in her office chair, not sparing you another glance, taking the paper and crushing it in her fist. You know she will burn it later — destroy the evidence of your shameful rendezvous.

You leave her office with a knot in your stomach. It’s nothing new — you feel terrible every time. Your relationship is sick and twisted and toxic, and you know you should end it. You could end it if you wanted to. She wouldn’t want the scandal of it all. She’d leave you alone if you threatened to report her.

If only you didn’t crave it so much.

You know one day you’ll grow tired of it — however, that day is not today, and it isn’t tomorrow either, for you show up at her office at 7pm sharp, like she told you.

“Pathetic,” she spits while you massage her feet, and then repeats it later after she lets you get off by humping her shoe.

You agree with her.

♥ big thanks to @opheliauniverse for beta reading ♥

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!) : @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @alexusonfire @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz @bbykens

#kink!week #7 days of kink #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x y/n #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it #gwendoline christie

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newbornwhumperfly · 6 months ago

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with a minimum of interference...

this was a very exciting project for me, so i had to make it so, so sad 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 for this @whumpmasinjuly prompt - day 28: fill a whump prompt - i chose this beautiful prompt (self-imposed sleep deprivation) by @teine-mallaichte ��😍😍 please forgive me in advance for turning into some heartbreaking backstory material for my boy morja...💔💔💔

CW: sleep deprivation, childhood neglect, accidental parentification trauma via latchkey kid syndrome, childhood poverty, oops it's all so sad folks please proceed with emotional caution <333

title insp. by this concept art quote by jenny holzer - “when you’ve been someplace for awhile, you acquire the ability to be practically invisible. This lets you operate with a minimum of interference.”

Makuahine was supposed to be home already. 9 PM, maybe later. She said it would be at nine. I'm sorry, Morja, I hope to be back as soon as I can from work, okay? It is eleven, beaming in the dark of the kitchen, and Morja is still waiting.

It isn’t bad that she isn’t here at ten. Sometimes…it takes longer, sometimes. That’s what jobs are like. Morja knows that the buses are long and that sometimes work is longer than Maku thinks because bosses say stuff that's different, all the time, and that's a job.

He’s not stupid. He’s able to understand. He's smart and responsible and knows money has to happen.

And still, even with money and obeying and jobs and taking care of the apartment and of Lehua, his eyes are itchy and burning.

In the small walls, the hum of wires is quieter, the lights off, the small space all shadows. There’s so little space to walk around, just seven steps to the wall, seven steps to the other wall, where he can touch the buzzing fridge, the cold tiny sink, the table squished into the corner.

Walk to the door.

The latch, closed. The lock, turned. The other chair pushed under the handle, jammed up tight, secure.

Morja walks to the corner by the door and, quiet, slow, rearranges the toys again. The little squishy floor-mat of blue and yellow stars was folded small, the little plastic basket had every toy stacked up. But maybe the trucks should go on the bottom and the soft toys on top.

Trucks. Then the beanbag toys, laid in a row, little bunny, little cat, little dog. No, f-o-x. The two squishy stars. The big plastic ball on top. Neat, nice. Maku will be happy the corner is clean! He swept the floor with his little broom and got all the dust, even the tiny gritty bits, in the can.

Morja likes when it is clean too.

Stand up, knees and shoulders making the crackle noise, sore neck, rubbing his eyes again and his back hurts from bending. Walk quiet, so quiet, to the bedroom to check on Lehua. She cried and cried and was mad that Morja wasn’t Maku. Needed to be carried, wailing, until his arms hurt too much to hold her, hearing thumps and yells from the wall behind the kitchen at very loud screams.

Morja doesn’t scream. He could. He could scream if he wanted but he’s too old for screaming.

Lehua’s face is pink and clean on her tiny pillow, because Morja played and played and read and read the little book with its cracking spine and bright pictures and by the time she fell asleep, her cheeks were scrubbed from the snot and tears by the washcloth, snuggly and soft, and Morja did a good job.

The light through the blinds makes orange stripes over the tiny body, snuffling, curled around her blanket. Morja is extra quiet when he kneels next to the mattress to touch her head.

Not hot.

Morja blows out, soft, cause that’s good. This mattress is so soft, bigger than his, with springy bounce. He knows he’s small for his mattress but this one is just nicer, wider, more room for stretching.

Morja pillows his cheek on the mattress, his nose just so close to Lehua’s balled-up fist, and her chest rises and falls. Sometimes Morja lays awake and watches, when he can’t fall asleep. Watches Maku breathe, the weird rasping wet noise it makes, like a gasp. Watches Lehua breathe, so small it’s sometimes hard to tell it’s happening.

Morja doesn’t like that kind of breathing, the air that happens when you’re sick.

The mattress is soft under his cheek.

Not so scratchy.

No, c’mon, get up. Keep watch. It’s not Morja sleep-time.

Morja wants to keep the lights on, because, well, he knows he has work. Brightness will help. But it’s so important not to keep the lights on too much cause of money. He chews his lip, thinking. The school has given him pages to practice his language skills, he thinks the tall pale man with a pale shirt and pale hair said. Pale sheets of paper in his hands and so, so many lines.

Even when it’s dark and there’s a throb behind his eyes, Morja can still be helpful and finish these lines for tomorrow. If he shoves himself into the very corner of the wall, where the bad-wet-smell of the room is strongest, a strong streetlight pokes through slats of window-blinds.

It’s orange and white and burns in a way that thumps the inside of his head. But it’s bright enough to see the paper. Black lines thump against his eyeballs, neck sore as it bends low to the paper, one fingertip tracing.

What is the right answer to a stranger asking “how are you?” 1. “I am good, thank you.” 2. “I am good, how are you?” 3. “I am good.”

The clock on the top of the stove beeps, red and gleaming through the grills.

12.00 AM

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Morja huffs through his teeth and rests his head against the wall. The stink and the hum makes his head throb harder but it keeps him up. Pangs shoot through his belly and his hand, sore, thumb and finger raw and indented-red from holding his pen, rubs over his stomach. Hungry is good, it keeps him- he can stay awake if he thinks about eating and how Maku will have maybe a snack from one of the late-car-places.

Dry noodles and powder rattling in a box.

S-t-a-t-e.

Meat in strips, hard and dry and hot.

R-a-e-t-e-a.

Chocolate in shiny wrapping, crunchy nuts and sweet goo and soft fluff, that is so rare.

N-e-w A-t-h-e-n-s.

Salt and sugar and butter and stuff that isn't on the list of what's allowed that Maku takes to the store.

1:00 AM.

Swimming black letters. Orange paper. Icky smell. Head hurts.

Maybe if he closed his eyes for a second.

But what if- Morja grunts and digs his fingers into the burn, sniffing hard. What if the door’s locked and Maku can’t come in? What if Lehua rolls off the bed? What if there’s a fire?

What if something bad happened?

It’s the ache, like being hungry but worse, that keeps Morja up, more than his head hurting or his eyes itching or his butt and his legs getting sharp prickles. The what if thudding in his small chest, keeping his heart fast and his eyes watery. The worry keeps him awake, keeps him doing a good job, the worry helps.

By the time the sky gets oranger than the streetlamps and the chain rattles in return, Morja has learned how to keep the stomachache constant. By the time it is safe to lay down, he passes the hours to school with his hands over his stomach, the sharpness in his belly, in his chest, pressing, pressing, pressing. By the time he doesn’t need it anymore, it sticks.

By the time he turns in his papers, clean and white and perfect, Morja learns more than one lesson to be perfect at.

so sincerely hope you enjoy what i've done with your excellent prompt, @teine-mallaichte!!! 😭🥰💖🥺

taglist: @much-ado-about-whumping @haro-whumps @whump-tr0pes @whumpzone @i-eat-worlds

@whumpthisway @whumping-every-day @whump-me-all-night-long @liliability @stoic-whumpee

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @whumpster-draganies @scoundrelwithboba @kixngiggles

@redwingedwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @straight-to-the-pain @wolfeyedwitch @tears-and-lilies

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone! 💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

#brace yourselves for more of morja's sad childhood oops sorry everyoneeeeeeee. more Fun Whump soon! 😭😭😭😭😩😩😩😩#morja #morja and company #my writing #wij24day28 #whumpmasinjuly2024 #whump #minor whump #emotional whump #angst #sleep deprivation #exhaustion #parentification trauma #childhood trauma #trauma #whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker

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peqchys · 3 months ago

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hello!! 🍓

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making a fancy brand new about me for my blog since i feel like i don’t have enough abt me on my profile…..

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names - rowan, peach, or sunny!! pronouns - any, no pref age - 16 identity - vague confusing nb, lesbian extra - - physically disabled [pots] - autism + adhd [both diagnosed] - christopagan, just a weird mushy mix of christianity, wicca, and a bunch of other spiritual stuff…..also a witch!!

special interests [there’s a whole bunch of these so get ready for a chunky paragraph…..MOOTS WHO SHARE INTERESTS ARE SUPER WELCOME !!!!] - project sekai, vocaloid, undertale, underverse, deltarune, olb&a, oln&f, xoxo droplets, danganronpa, obey me, the arcana, the owl house, fnaf, dsaf, genshin impact, honkai star rail, zenless zone zero, littlest pet shop, webkinz, cookie run, yttd, sk8 the infinity, banana fish, yuri on ice, dhmis, bungou stray dogs, sanders sides, sasaki and miyano, build a bear, warrior cats, animal crossing, super mario, sonic the hedgehog, party crashers, sleep deprived, blooming panic, error 143, stardew valley, omori, the sims, bluey, paw patrol, eddsworld, twice, saiki k, john doe / house hunted, stanley parable, game grumps, nsp, mlp, animal jam, blush blush, sally face, pokemon, tpn, devilman crybaby, calico critters, it 2017, it 2019, kinitopet

dni - all of the basic dni + proshippers dont come near me plz links - > toyhouse > commissions

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#yapping #looking for moots #intro post #artists on tumblr

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moldyblackbird · 2 months ago

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The Innards of Citadels

part 2 of my interpretation of the Hellevator MV, feat. some extra lore

Warnings - none really

Fun Warnings - brother bonding 👏 more urbexing oooo

_______

The three of them stuffed all that they had uncovered in a strewn shopping cart. Felix offered to push at first, finding it to be too heavy before Minho took over. Changbin walked a little ways ahead with his hands clasped over the back of his neck. While it was common to be weighed down with anxiety in this messed up world, he felt a deeper troubling sensation just today. And it was only lunch hour.

Jisung was clearly out of it this morning - it was difficult being forced awake at 6 am every day due to Chan’s safety allegation of being on guard as much as they could, but he seemed a bit more sensitive than usual compared to the others. Changbin hoped to get some words out of him later.

And with Hyunjin’s more recent silent meltdowns - plus the new sinkhole that chose to destroy the last storage unit in the area - there wasn’t much to look forward to. Ever since the Sound Monster had set its ugly mind on the city, there had been nothing to look forward to. The only thing that seemed worth it was their exhausting, meaningless efforts in order to help some people out. To keep Chan’s team alive. Forging weapons, creating various defenses and moving from state line to state line all while raiding beaten-down supermarkets and cars for food.

Changbin had held back for four months at this point. He had held back his emotions, his impulsive actions, his opinions. Of course he wanted justice for innocent people. Of course he wanted to keep his friends safe and together like they, pretty much, always have been. But was the end really avoidable? How long till Seungmin got lost and rotted away in a collapsing apartment complex? How long till Hyunjin finally, secretly, decided to end it all? How long till all of them lost sight of any purpose in life?

“Bin?” A strong, smooth voice brushed by his ear. He hadn’t noticed how his fingernails were digging into his dirtied scalp. He blinked and cleared his throat. Felix locked an arm with his and observed his features quizzically.

“We’re here already, come on,” Minho snapped from up ahead, leaning by his stomach against the handlebar of the cart. He wheeled it around towards the short, blocky building that they had settled in. Changbin snorted after sharing a glance with his younger friend and Felix squeezed his shoulder before tugging him along.

_______

“How do we get up?” Changbin nagged at Minho, gesturing with his chin towards the enormous flight of stairs before them. He was not confident in getting the cart, let alone everything in it, up each eroded step.

“Elevator,” the older boy replied nonchalantly. Changbin and Felix only blinked. “Chan fixed it, finally.” He continued before he could receive any protest. The other two gazed at the said contraption in awe.

Their lives would get a bit easier at this point, they realized. Ever since they moved in, their squads had been hauling materials all the way up to the rooftop of the building without rest. Jisung had half-jokingly proposed fixing the elevator system but Chan took the project to heart. And it seems that he had eventually found a way to reassemble one. “

He messaged me earlier, I nearly forgot,” Minho shoved the supply cart onto the elevator platform and pulled the other boys inside. “Sit down and don’t move or else the system might get jammed.” They all obeyed immediately as the hyung read off his phone, wrapping his limbs around the shopping cart.

“Is this safe?” Felix asked nervously. Minho pressed the “ROOFTOP” button.

“Chan said he tested it with some bowling balls and heavy crap,” he shrugged. “I can also leave you to walk up those stairs. Alone. And I’ll eat your share of lunch.” The teasing only subsided when Changbin threatened to whip Minho’s arm. Felix rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall with a yawn while the elevator made a very slow ascent.

_______

It was as if time stood still.

The curved hallway wasn’t only dark but damp. Shattered glass was carelessly strewn across the floor, vines crawled in from the demolished windows and the area had been trashed and graffitied so intensely that it hurt to breathe.

The only constant, living thing Joengin could recall was his older friend ahead of him.

“My message isn’t going through,” Seungmin turned to walk backwards for a moment, waving his phone at the younger. “The cell towers must have all gone down around here. We can’t go too far alone from base anymore.”

“Why didn’t you check before we left?” Joengin caught up to him and snorted. “You've earned us a lecture from our hyungs.” He was also worried about becoming lost before they could be lectured.

Seungmin pursed his lips and sighed. “Well, I didn't really think that the last cell tower would die out today,” he scoffed. “I also wasn’t planning to text him before we were actually leaving.”

Keeping in close contact was a top priority for the group. If someone got lost, they could be located immediately. If one of their squads was in trouble or picked up Sound Waves, a quick call could explain the situation and request the other’s help. Chan also believed that it was important to actively try getting a hold of other individuals in the area. Just in case there were survivors, or people that simply needed help.

But with the whole apocalypse thing and Sound destruction, it became harder to keep in touch. This part of the world was practically dying. Chan never let the boys stray further than they needed to.

“Whatever, let’s just get home,” Jeongin jogged ahead after tightening the strap of his withered satchel over his shoulder. His head was throbbing from the lack of oxygen and his shoes were drenched; Seungmin had dared him to jump over a shallow canal of still water but had instead tripped and skidded right in. A small grudge churned in his chest.

“...will we have to move again?” Seungmin’s fragile voice cut through the air. Jeongin glanced back. “We’re running out of supplies.”

“I hope we don’t need to,” the younger replied, thinking hard. “But if we really are sucking the city dry or, of course, the Sound Monster catches up to us again, then we may have to.” He turned to look at Seungmin’s gloomy figure. Usually he was the one asking these kinds of hopeless questions, not answering them. “It’s Chan’s call.” The other boy nodded slowly and pushed past him, desperate to return to the others.

_______

you'll be seeing the entire group next part :D

What i mean by "extra lore" is the inclusion of the Rooftop from I Am YOU, the Sound Monster destroying everything, mention of getting out of the 'asylum' as seen in District 9 - stuff like that

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rottingbah · 7 months ago

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ROTTING BUILD - A - HEADMATE !!

hello chat . call me ty or zizi . i'm a troll here to give you headmates . nothing more , nothing less .

below is some more information regarding that . have fun .

policies & such .

1. fictives from sources not specified from the list will either be denied all - together or be kinda shit . i won't be familiar with their source , so . . . 2. use please & thank you . common courtesy is appreciated . 3. i have depression and barely ever have motivation . requests may take a while .

form . an * = not required .

*name ; *prns ; *source ; *role ; *transids ; *cisids ; *misc ;

you may notice literally nothing is required . i enjoy the process of making shit up .

accepted sources . long list incoming . . .

erin hunter , hoyoverse games ( except tears of themis ) , slime rancher ( 1 & 2 ) , splatoon ( 1 & 2 & 3 ) , pokemon , obey me ! , ALTER EGO , cookie run , twisted wonderland , project sekai , muse dash , wuthering waves , undertale , deltarune , our life ( beginnings and always & now and forever ) , death and taxes , doki doki literature club , omori , the stanley parable , monster prom ( camp , & con ) , animal jam , fran bow , little misfortune , five nights at freddy's , the coffin of andy and leyley , oneshot , hiveswap , hazbin hotel , helluva boss , my hero academia , kamisama kiss , k - on ! , the amazing world of gumball , ouran highschool host club , little witch academia , the disastrous life of saiki k , ado , will stetson , mafumafu , ghost and pals , bo burnham , penelope scott , rio romeo , mitski , kikuo , sparkbird , maretu , mother mother , will wood , insane clown posse , melanie martinez , homestuck

tags .

#shut up zizi . - non - BAH posts . my ramblings . #actually headmates . - posting headmates . #incessant screaming . - asks .

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libellule-ao3 · 2 years ago

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Life Links

9. Annie Thorn (MC)/ Brother

Summary: An impromptu visit interrupts Annie's final preparations before the battle.

⚠️Warning: Alcohol use. ⚠️

Chapter index - previous chapter (Jae Kim) - next chapter (Diego Caplan)

Alone.

Her boyfriend is safe in Ireland. She sent her partner to France, and her brother has abandoned her... Again.

Annie checks her equipment and buckles her bag. Through the window, her gaze wanders over an indistinct horizon in the night. Indistinct. Like her future.

When was the last time she asked herself what would become of her?

The answer that comes to her clenches her heart. It was at the beginning of her Auror training, after she had known passion. The one that consumes you until you leave only a heart in ashes.

The witch had to rebuild it, piece by piece. During this time, Annie and Jae were everything to each other. In turn, partners, lovers, friends, a bit of all of this at the same time and so much more... He has always been there, never letting her storms and shipwrecks push him away, and for seven years, they experienced everything together.

Jae deserves to be happy, to embrace a companion more joyful than loneliness. That’s why Annie did everything she could to ensure him a bright future with Penny, regardless of the outcome of the Battle.

Her mind drifts to Sam, her boyfriend whom she learned to love deeply after having given in to his advances out of spite. When she asked him to leave England because she could not fight without being sure of his safety, he obeyed without complaining about being left out. Because he believes in her, and that confidence is worth its weight in gold.

After the war, maybe she could talk about marriage... By making sure that the idea comes from him, of course!

“I miss you,”

But not as much as Jacob. They haven’t seen each other for months and he’s already disappeared. As usual. He disappears, she looks for him; they find each other and he runs off into the unknown. Oh, never for the sake of hurting her. A goal always justifies his actions. A goal more noble and ambitious than staying by her side. Always. She exhales her tension with a sigh and pours herself a glass of Firewhisky, which she drinks in one gulp, alcohol burning her bitterness.

She’ll kick his ass when they win.

The witch clenches her fists. Projecting herself into the future will strengthen her resolve to survive in a succession of battles where every wizard who falls under her spells will ensure her survival and everyone else’s. She hopes not to have to fight Barnaby or Ismelda.

A cracking sound startles her. She turns around, drawing her wand and putting it away. It’s Jacob. A shower and clean clothes, and he is back at his best. Only his face keeps the watermark of the last ordeal he endured.

“I haven’t been here for a long time...” he says, his eyes staring disapprovingly at the couch that moved here along with Sam. Jacob never liked him.

“Yeah!” Annie confirms, her voice heavy with reproach.

“Pip... It was too risky. I was undercover!”

Annie has a small incredulous laugh.

“I didn’t see an undercover wizard. I saw a guy we had to get out of a jam! That said, it’s becoming a habit...”

“Your nerves are on edge! Don’t take it out on me, Pip!” he says in a tone that commands respect.

The witch winces. He is right. This is not the time for a brotherly joust. She pours two glasses of Firewhisky and they toast to a ceasefire.

“So you and Merula... Since when?”

“Never mind, it’s over... She betrayed me, tortured... I hate her!”

It is rare for Annie to see Jacob bare his soul. The years of separation because of the cursed vaults have seriously marred their complicity. They tried to find it before they realized that time lost could not be made up for.

Unconsciously, Jacob had wanted to pick up where he left off. But during his absence, the little girl who saw him as a hero had given way to an accomplished witch, an adult before her time. Disillusionment, bitterness… Guilt.

“I bet she didn’t use the Cruciatus Curse?”

A stubborn silence answers.

“She said she would never have succeeded in using that magic against you... Probably because you have to enjoy the suffering of your victim to cast it,” Annie says with a falsely innocent look.

“Stop it! You’re not Mum!”

“She would tell you to listen to me!”

“Of course! You’re the heroine! Me, I’ve gone from child prodigy to the poor, undesirable bastard who is constantly reminded that he was saved by his little sister!”

The lack of recognition and the inability to forget that their parents did not look for him, or so little, after his disappearance in the cursed vaults, eat away at Jacob’s insides like acid. Bruised by these years of absence, Annie’s heart tightens. She remembers all too well the time when the world treated them as outcasts, and when their mother took calming potions to overcome each day without her son, one after the other, so much the pain of having lost him was a torment. As for Dad... Whatever! Nothing was the same after Jacob’s disappearance. Her brother can’t understand.

“They tried to turn the page,” Jacob says, sipping his drink. “it’s a lot easier to do it over a dead body than over a ‘missing’ person who might turn up at any moment! So they did nothing, while turning a blind eye to your research out of cowardice. You were a child! Do you think that’s normal?”

Jacob’s gaze pierces her, so sharp is it. Annie shrugs.

“The question never arose... I looked for you because it was the only thing I could do. Point... Don’t blame anyone for my own choices,”

An impulse pushes her to hug him. This may be the last time, after all.

“And stop blaming yourself too,” she says as he hugs her tightly. “You can’t spend your life blaming yourself for mistakes you made trying to protect me, my brother.”

#hphm #hphm fic #annie thorn #hphm jacob #Circle of Khanna #battle of hogwarts #LL fic #esl writer

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priokskfm · 3 months ago

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savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 5 months ago

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DOOM OR BE DOOMED!! -- OBEY THE RIFF!!

PIC INFO: Spotlight on guitarist/co-founder Tony Iommi of English heavy rock band BLACK SABBATH, performing live at the Gaumont in Southampton, England on June 25, 1980, during the band's "Heaven and Hell" era. 📸: Fin Costello.

"SPIN" MAGAZINE: "So, for "Heaven and Hell," the first SABBATH record for Ronnie in the band… I know Sharon Osbourne introduced you two. Did you already know him from RAINBOW or ELF?"

TONY IOMMI: "I’ve never met him before. I’d obviously heard him with Rainbow. I thought, ‘wow, God, he’s a great singer.’ Never thought for one minute I’d end up being in a band with him. She introduced me to him at a party. Remember those?"

SPIN: "Ha, barely! Had she introduced you with the intention of you guys playing together?"

TONY: "Well, it was sort of mentioned because it came to a point within Sabbath where it was getting a bit sort of… I just wanted to do something. And we were coming to a bit of a halt at the time because of the situation [Ozzy’s partying]. I did mention the idea of doing something solo, as a different project. Ronnie was interested in that. And then when it came to when Ozzy was no longer with the band, I called Ronnie and said, ‘do you fancy coming over and having a play with us?’ He came over and the idea was just to have a jam, really. We did, and we were all impressed with what he did. And he liked what we did. It sort of went from there, really."

SPIN: "I know you worked at Criteria in Miami, home of the Bee Gees… how did you end up there to record "Heaven and Hell"? And, part two, there’s the story you lit drummer Bill Ward on fire… was it there?"

TONY: "Stop making me laugh! No, it wasn’t, actually, it was in London where I set him on fire. We had recorded at Criteria with Technical Ecstasy [in 1976]. We were in Los Angeles when it all blew up with Ozzy, and Don Arden [Sharon’s father] managed us at the time, and he was very difficult, and we were breaking away from him. So we didn’t want to stay in Los Angeles any longer. The idea was, ‘well, let’s go to Miami,’ so we went and stayed at Barry Gibb’s house. And wrote the album, really."

Source: www.spin.com/2021/03/tony-iommi-black-sabbath-dio-eddie-van-halen-interview.

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the-jam-to-the-unicorn · 8 months ago

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Jam, please do "I want to kiss you." 😍😍😍😍😍😍

Done! Sorry for the delay. 🫣

With a bit of sadness, Volodymyr saw Olena's apartment building appear in the distance as they walked along the pavement holding hands. Involuntarily, his grip on her hand tightened, and Volodymyr intertwined their fingers more, not wanting their time together to end just yet.

"Vova, you're holding my hand a little too tightly," Olena interrupted her story about her current project, and Volodymyr loosened his grip a little.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to."

Olena smiled a bit before continuing her story. But eventually, they stopped at the path that led to the front door of the house. Volodymyr was thinking so hard about what reason he could use to persuade Olena to stay or take another walk that he almost expected little puffs of smoke to come out of his ears. Olena, meanwhile, was standing in front of him somewhat indecisively, her eyes darting back and forth between the front door and Volodymyr.

"We could go for another walk," he suggested, looking at Olena with a hopeful smile, which she shyly returned.

Olena's heart had been beating fast since Volodymyr had picked her up from the university, and now it was skipping a beat while the tingly feeling that Olena always got in Volodymyr's presence appeared in her stomach. Then she looked down at her watch and, with a soft sigh, let her eyes drift to the house before Olena looked at him again. There was regret in her eyes now.

"I wish I could, but I should have been home twenty minutes ago. I'd better go upstairs before my parents get worried," Olena said sadly.

"What if you go upstairs, tell your parents and then we go for a walk?"

Volodymyr stepped in front of her to cover the house and so that she could look him straight in the eye. He did not let go of Olena's hand. Instead, his thumb caressed her fingers tenderly as he smiled at her. Olena returned the smile and she had the feeling that her heart was beating so fast that Volodymyr could hear it. His smile was charming and engaging, Volodymyr's eyes looked at her gently and seemed to be able to look deep into her soul. The longer his fingers caressed hers and the longer he looked at her, the stronger the tingling in Olena's stomach became. And it spread all over her body. The many good reasons and rational thoughts that Olena had until a moment ago fell silent, and she melted inside. Of course, Olena wanted to stay and spend some more time with Volodymyr. But Olena reminded herself to be reasonable. If she didn't go upstairs soon, she would be grounded and then she wouldn't be able to spend any more time with Volodymyr.

"I really have to go, Vova," Olena said, though her voice didn't sound entirely convinced.

The second part of her sentence, that she would have liked to stay and take another walk with him, got stuck in Olena's throat. She was simply too shy to say it out loud. With a beguiling smile, Volodymyr stepped closer to Olena, and her breath caught a little as Olena's gaze fell briefly on his lips. Volodymyr was pleased to notice this, as well as the fact that her cheeks darkened a little. He leaned closer to Olena. So close that the tips of their noses almost touched. Olena held her breath, expecting a kiss, but Volodymyr stopped and just looked at her. Her eyes remained on his lips.

"And there's absolutely nothing I can do to persuade you to spend a little more time with me?" he asked with a flirtatious undertone.

Olena could think of something, especially the longer she looked at his lips. But she remembered what the consequences would be if she stayed and spent more time with Volodymyr.

"I'm afraid not," Olena could only breathe in response, her voice no longer willing to obey her.

With all her strength, she forced herself to look into his eyes again. Volodymyr smiled sympathetically, but Olena saw the disappointment in his eyes that she felt in her heart. But it was as if the air between and around them was suddenly filled with sparks, a kind of electricity. There was an attraction that Olena had only experienced with Volodymyr so far. And it was growing stronger by the second, so Olena looked at his lips again for a brief moment before quickly lifting her eyes again.

"Are you sure?" Volodymyr asked quietly, and Olena swallowed before nodding because that was all she could do.

He felt the excited tingling in his body increase. The few times Volodymyr had been allowed to kiss Olena, he could count on one hand. And Volodymyr wasn't complaining at all. The only problem was that ever since that first kiss, he was absolutely addicted to kissing Olena. To the point where Volodymyr wanted to kiss her every second of the day. Olena's lips were warm and soft, her kisses tasted sweet, and there was something intoxicating about them. Everything in Volodymyr's head was always spinning, and he felt as light as if he was floating. And after a kiss, the world seemed more colourful, sunnier and beautiful. But Olena was still very reserved - a quality Volodymyr loved about her - which was why he didn't want to force himself on Olena, no matter how much Volodymyr wanted to kiss her at every opportunity. Patience was a virtue he didn't really have but one that Volodymyr was working very hard on at the moment. He would wait a hundred years for Olena if he had to. Volodymyr would do much, if not everything, for her as long as he could be with Olena and close to her. And she looked at him as she was looking at him now.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Volodymyr asked, his heart pounding with excitement.

"Tomorrow I have university again ..." Olena began evasively, but he refused to accept this answer.

Jokingly, Volodymyr began to sulk and took another small step towards her. He could smell Olena's perfume and felt the warmth radiating from her body.

"Please. I miss you too much otherwise, Len. I can't wait until the day after tomorrow."

Olena let out a shy but very flattered giggle as she lowered her eyes in sheepishness and Olena felt her cheeks grow very warm. They literally burned when she suddenly felt Volodymyr's finger on her chin and how he gently lifted her gaze. It was like ants were running through her whole body.

"After my seminar ... before I go to the library ... I have some time," Olena said breathlessly, feeling hot and cold because of how Volodymyr looked at her.

So lovingly. And ... desirous.

"We could go for a coffee?!" Olena suggested, swallowing as Volodymyr's finger trailed briefly from her chin over her cheek before taking his hand away again.

Olena immediately missed the touch and looked back to his lips. Kissing Volodymyr was one of the most beautiful feelings in the world, along with holding his hand and being close to him, and yet Olena almost never dared. What if Volodymyr found her too intrusive? Or too possessive? What if he thought it was silly that she wanted to kiss him all the time? And Olena certainly didn't want to appear clingy.

"I'll pick you up. When will you be ready?" Volodymyr asked, smiling brightly.

"Can you be there just before five?"

He nodded, and his smile widened.

"I'm looking forward to our date. That's all I'll be dreaming about tonight."

Olena's stomach fluttered, and she had to giggle again.

"No, you won't, but if you keep making jokes like that, I'll start to believe them," she said, lowering her eyes.

"I was serious," Volodymyr replied, sounding like he was.

Then Olena heard a noise and looked up. A neighbour was coming out of the front door, and Olena just nodded to him before the neighbour disappeared. Meanwhile, she thought about what to say to Volodymyr since she hadn't expected him to really mean what he said. Olena decided to leave it at that, hoping that her cheeks would eventually stop burning. Instead, she gestured with her head in the direction of the apartment building, and they walked to the front door in silence for a moment, holding hands. Olena looked at Volodymyr as they stopped beside it. He was still looking at her happily and gently, and it didn't seem to bother him in the least that she hadn't said anything back. Not for the first time, Olena realised how much easier everything was with Volodymyr.

"I really should be going," she began, smiling. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon and evening. And the invitation to the cinema and dinner," Olena continued, and Volodymyr's smile widened a little.

"You're very welcome. I had a lovely time with you, too."

"I'll pay for the coffee tomorrow!"

"Let's see ..." he replied, grinning, at which she shook her head slightly and rolled her eyes, but Olena smiled and Volodymyr saw her eyes sparkle.

"You always pay, Vova," she said, and he stepped so close to Olena that their bodies were almost touching.

She swallowed and Olena's eyes fell on Volodymyr's lips again as she leaned slightly towards him, but Volodymyr made no move to kiss her.

"Of course, I'll pay. You're my girlfriend," he said lovingly, his voice full of tenderness, and Olena looked into Volodymyr's eyes again, her heart beating wildly at his words. "Remember? I'm your boyfriend ... you're my girlfriend ... we're dating ..." Volodymyr continued teasingly.

"I remember there was something like that ..." Olena joked, and he laughed softly.

His heart pounded in his throat and Volodymyr felt a little dizzy with happiness. Then he gathered all his courage.

"And since you're my girlfriend, you're my darling. And I'll pay for my darling if I go on a date with you."

Volodymyr resisted the urge to kiss her but waited and gave Olena time. It was the first time he had ever called her that. Olena's mouth was slightly open as she took a deep breath. She looked at him with wide eyes, her gaze moving back and forth between Volodymyr's lips and his eyes. Olena swallowed a few times as if she wanted to say something, but Olena remained silent.

"What?" he asked with a smile, deciding to be a little bolder by placing his free hand on her waist, causing Olena to gasp softly in surprise.

"Oh, nothing ..." she said haltingly, looking back at his lips.

"Tell me ..." Volodymyr whispered, encouragingly looking at Olena.

"It ... it's ..." she stuttered, looking into his eyes again. "It's just that ..."

"Yes?" Volodymyr breathed and swallowed as he saw Olena unconsciously lick her lips and then lightly bite her lower lip.

"I want to kiss you," Olena blurted out in a burst of fearlessness, her wish suddenly greater than her shyness. "I would really like to kiss you."

Volodymyr's smile turned into a blissful grin as the hand on Olena's waist slid to her back.

"Well, another benefit of me being your boyfriend is ..." he began teasingly, waggling his eyebrows. "You can kiss me anytime and as much as you want," Volodymyr continued, leaning forward, but he stopped just short of Olena's lips, tilting his head slightly until his lips were hovering next to her cheek.

Olena's head was spinning, and if Volodymyr didn't hold her, she would probably fall over.

"How would you like to kiss me?" he whispered into Olena's ear. "Like this?"

Volodymyr kissed her tenderly on the cheek before his lips brushed along it.

"Or like this?" he asked, kissing the place next to the corner of her mouth.

Olena had closed her eyes during the first kiss, her breathing heavy and her heart fluttering. Volodymyr let his lips slide further, touching Olena's gingerly until they hovered in front of hers, just the tips of their noses touching.

"Like this," Olena breathed, closing the distance between them and kissing Volodymyr.

The ants and butterflies in her body exploded into small fireworks. Volodymyr's knees almost gave out. Olena let go of his hand to rest both of hers gently on his chest, and Volodymyr placed his free hand on Olena's cheek. They stayed like that for a while, kissing each other again and again. But the initially tender and gentle kisses quickly turned into more intimate ones. Volodymyr pulled Olena closer into his arms, and without her noticing that they were moving, Olena suddenly felt the house wall at her back, against which Volodymyr carefully pressed her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and as one hand went into Volodymyr's hair, he made a sound that made Olena feel hot. Volodymyr began to kiss her all the more passionately, and when he elicited a soft sigh from Olena against his lips, Volodymyr could have sworn that angels were singing at the same time and that he had never heard a more beautiful sound. Volodymyr was wrong because the second sigh, when a hand moved to her bottom, was even better. And they would have continued kissing passionately and tenderly at the same time if a group of people had not suddenly come out of the apartment building. Embarrassed and with burning cheeks, Olena quickly broke the kiss and took a step away from Volodymyr as he tried to catch his breath and turned away from the people. He couldn't help but let his tongue slide over his lips. Volodymyr could still taste Olena. Embarrassed, they waited until the people were out of earshot and out of sight. Then he cleared his throat loudly before Volodymyr looked at Olena, who was also looking in his direction. There was a moment of silence before they both started to laugh, their cheeks flushed.

"So I'll see my darling tomorrow shortly before 5 PM?" Volodymyr asked with a broad smile, and that tingling sensation returned to Olena's body when he called her that.

"Yes," Olena managed to answer, still breathless from their kiss.

Volodymyr's goodnight kiss left her just as breathless, though it was tender and loving in comparison. Nevertheless, Olena knew she would only think about it tonight. Volodymyr waited until he saw her go up the stairs and then made his way back, feeling exhilarated. Volodymyr felt Olena's lips on his all evening and all night. And even longer. Until they were on hers again the next day.

#enjoy anon!

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audiofuzz · 1 year ago

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HEAR: Dhani Harrison - “New Religion (Ft. Graham Coxon)”

Multiple GRAMMY® Award-winning musician and composer, Dhani Harrison, has released INNERSTANDING, his first solo album in six years. The new album is available now digitally, with a 2LP Neon Yellow color vinyl edition being available on February 9th, 2024, via H.O.T. Records/BMG. The album features Blur’s Graham Coxon on several tracks, including the single “New Religion”, as well as guest appearances from Liela Moss of The Duke Spirit and critically acclaimed Australian singer Mereki. Watch the visualizer for “New Religion (feat. Graham Coxon)” below: “Here we are in a new world and here is the new album that has come forth from it.” Dhani Harrison on his new album, Harrison previously previewed the album with the single “Damn That Frequency”, which also featured Coxon on saxophone – stream HERE. In addition to his appearance on that track, Coxon also features on guitar on four other songs on INNERSTANDING. The album was produced by Harrison and co-mixed with GRAMMY® Award-winning producer Paul Hicks (The Beatles, Joe Strummer, The Rolling Stones). Originally stepping onto the global stage with his band thenewno2, Dhani Harrison first earned critical acclaim for his innovative sound and approach with performances at Coachella, Lollapalooza, and on multiple late night TV shows. However, it was as solo artist that Harrison truly demonstrated his creative autonomy. 2017’s IN///PARALLEL served as a testament to his evolution as a musician, weaving intricate melodies and a subject matter that forewarned much of what the world has experienced in the years following its release. Rolling Stone hailed IN///PARALLEL writing that it was “psychedelia-tinged journey into modern-day disconnect.” Harrison is also known for scoring film and TV projects as well as collaborating with an array of diverse artists including Wu-Tang Clan, UNKLE, John McLaughlin, Annie Lennox, Pearl Jam, Nitin Sawhney, Perry Farrell, Prince, Regina Spektor, and Fistful of Mercy (alongside Ben Harper & Joseph Arthur). Since his 2013 debut as a composer on Richard La Gravenese’s Beautiful Creatures, Harrison has gone on to score the Sundance Award- winning MATANGI/MAYA/M.I.A., for which he and his scoring partner Paul Hicks received an International Documentary Association (IDA) Award nomination for “Best Music Score Award.” Additional scores include R.Z.A.’s CutThroat City, Obey Giant – The Story of Shepard Fairey, Amazon’s original series Good Girls Revolt, Showtime’s White Famous, and the much-lauded HBO docuseries, The Case Against Adnan Syed. As an artist who defies categorization, Harrison continues to explore the boundaries of music and creativity. His ability to seamlessly blend diverse influences while maintaining his individuality has solidified his place as a contemporary musical visionary. With each new composition, performance, and collaboration, Dhani Harrison invites us to join him on a sonic journey that knows no limits. Read the full article

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chrisryanspeaks · 1 year ago

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HEAR: Dhani Harrison - “New Religion (Ft. Graham Coxon)”

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obeythedemons · 3 years ago

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A Napping Demon [Obey Me! Barbatos/Lance]

Warnings: Food mention

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1192

Obey Me! Masterlist

Lance paused as he walked past a doorway. His eyebrows furrowed together. Quickly, the human shuffled backward and peered into the sitting room. There, Barbatos was sitting in a lounge chair, his head leaning back against the rest. His lips were slightly parted and his eyes were closed.

Looking around, Lance tried to find a spare blanket but found none. Biting his lip, Lance sped off through the halls of the castle to where he knew there was a linen closet from helping Barbatos before. He opened it and frowned. It was empty.

"What?” Lance whispered yelled. “What the hell!?”

“Oh!” a squeak sounded from nearby. Lance peered over and saw No. 2 skitter nearby. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Human!”

“You do take after you Papa calling me human,” Lance grumbled. “Do you know where all of the blankets are, No. 2?”

“It’s laundry day, Mr. Barbatos hung them all out to dry.”

“All of them?” Lance frowned.

“Yes, why?”

Lance shook his head. “It’s nothing. Thank you.” Lance shut the linen closet and hurried back to where Barbatos was sleeping, ignoring the fact that the little demon was following him. He quickly slid off the coat of his school uniform and poked his head back into the room. Barbatos was still there, hadn’t moved a muscle. As quietly as he could, Lance pattered towards the snoozing demon and gently placed the coat over the demon. He shuffled the bit of red fabric and had it drape over Barbatos’s legs.

Lance admired the demon before him. Though, movement in the doorway rudely interrupted the moment. He glanced over his glasses at No. 2 and hurried out of the room. Lance grabbed the door handle and silently shut it.

“Let’s let him rest,” Lance whispered to the demon and gently patted its head. “Do you know if the laundry is dry yet?”

“It should be, or it should be soon, why?”

“Let’s help out Barbatos and put it away for him,” Lance spoke softly as he headed towards where Barbatos would hang the linens to dry.

“But it’s almost time for Lord Diavolo’s tea!”

Lance did a 180 and made his way back towards the kitchen. “I’ll get that. Could you start to get the linens? I’ll meet back up with you to help fold them.”

The human didn’t wait for a response as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He quickly turned on the stovetop and put the kettle on. His eyes landed on some lemon scones. Opening the fridge, Lance grabbed some blood blackberry jam. He quickly grabbed the plates for the scones and jams while also grabbing the loose lavender tea and scooped it into the infuser.

The whistling sounded and Lance hurried over. He grabbed the kettle and made his way to the teapot that would be used to serve Lord Diavolo, Lucifer, and Solomon. Taking a deep breath, he focused on holding the kettle as Barbatos would, to allow the air and the water to mix with the tea.

“Careful,” Lance muttered as the water started to pour out. He winced as his hand trembled and some water splashed a bit more than it should. Still, it soon filled the pot and started brewing the tea. “Hopefully that’ll be good.”

Lance placed the teapot, cups, plates, serving utensils, and napkins on the serving platter and used both hands to carry the tray down the halls. He did not trust himself to use one hand as Barbatos would. Instead, he slowly walked and eyed the contents on the tray, trying his best to make sure it wouldn’t crash down to the floor. Soon enough, he walked to the meeting room where the three were gathered in.

“Just in time Barba—” Diavolo’s voice cut short as he saw Lance. “Lance, what are you doing? Not that I’m upset by this, it’s a nice change in pace!” He laughed as the human shook while trying to serve them all.

“Yes, what are you doing?” Lucifer eyed Lanced with suspicion. “You came with me to read through the Royal Archives for a project.”

“I finished earlier than I expected I would,” Lance said honestly. “So I thought I’d just help Barbatos.” He started to pour their cups of tea. “Today, you’ll have lemon scones with a black—blood blackberry jam and lavender tea. I thought you all seemed a bit tired, so the lavender tea will help you relax.”

“Thank you, Lance,” Solomon sounded, but there was a small smirk on his face. “What did you do to Barbatos?”

Lance glared at his fellow human – wondering just how much Asmo had told him. “Nothing.”

“Lie,” Diavolo chuckled as he took a sip of his tea.

“Lance?” Lucifer questioned, his tone becoming impatient.

“I-I didn’t do anything bad!” Lance sounded, his voice raising an octave. “Just helped him, is all.” Lance finished serving them and took the serving tray back. “And I’m going to help more, so if you’ll please excuse me.” Lance hightailed it out of there to go and assist No. 2.

Barbatos moved slightly with his face buried into whatever was draped over him. It smelt faintly of a mixture of a cool cologne and jasmine tea. He pulled it closer to him and hummed happily at the rare, pleasant dreams flowing through his mind. Then, his groggy mind started to stir as consciousness started to come to him. He paused and snapped his eyes open.

His emerald eyes glanced down towards the fabric covering him – the RAD jacket. “Who…?” A harsh blush covered his cheeks as he recognized the scent. “Lance?” he uttered and looked around seeing he was by himself. The demon buried his face in the jacket to try and calm the raging heat in his face, only to make it worse.

“Ah, the Young Lord!” Barbatos yelped with alarm and neatly draped the jacket over his arm as he rushed out of the room and towards the kitchen. He skidded to a stop at the sound of arguing.

“Mr. Barbatos chops it much faster,” the sound of No. 2’s taunts hit the demon’s ears.

“I know he does!” Lance growled. “My wrist won’t work well enough for me to chop it like he does!”

“Dinner’s going to be late.”

“Then, help me!” Lance wailed as he continued to use the knife to cut the vegetables.

“No, I’m tired from earlier.”

Lance ignored the demon and asked, “Here, does this taste good?”

Barbatos peered around the corner to see Lance serve a sauce to No. 2. No. 2 smacked his lips as he thought before he excitedly nodded his head. Lance sighed in relief and quickly washed the spoon. “Good. I’m nowhere near Barbatos’s level in the kitchen, but hopefully, it’ll be okay for Diavolo.”

“He’ll just be excited to have a dish from the human world that wasn’t made by that shady wizard.”

Barbatos smiled softly to himself. He glanced at the jacket in his arms. Peering back, he decided to allow the two to continue on. He shrugged the jacket over his shoulders and walked off – thinking he’d finish the laundry.

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wonderhoy-edits · 3 years ago

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“Gonna see a play♪ See a play♪ Doo doo doo♪”

Hi hii! I’m Mod Emu or Mod Otori, you could also call me Zoey if you’d like! My pronouns are she/her, and I’m a minor! My main blog is @.zoey-thee-4townie, I’m the owner of this group blog so message me there if you have any questions!

I Can Dance To This! (Edit types):

Icons (regular, shaped, reply, pride)

Headers

Moodboards

Playlists

Doodles

Pendulum Readings

Tarot Readings

Compose, Compose! (Source List!):

Danganronpa (all games)

Turning Red

Undertale/Deltarune

Coraline

Gorillaz

Total Drama (only up to season 5!)

My Hero Academia

Demon Slayer

Avatar the Last Airbender

Vocaloid

Five Nights At Freddy’s (Only security breach!)

Bendy and The Ink Machine

Haikyuu!!

Apex Legends

Kingdom Hearts

Sanrio

Animal Crossing

Mystic Messenger

Obey Me: One Master to Rule Them All!

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Stranger Things

Carmen Sandiego (2019 version)

Naruto (selective and shippuden only!)

Legend of Zelda (I’ve only played botw so no major spoilers plz!)

Any Ghibli Movie

Doki Doki Literature Club

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

Pokemon

Adventure Time

My Little Pony

Lupin the Third

Project Sekai

Teen Titans (The original)

That’s My Jam! (Whitelist!):

4*town, Priya (Turning Red)

Hanako x Yashiro (Tbhk)

Ochako x Mina, Denki, Fatgum, Kirishima, Bakugo, Tsuyu (Bnha)

Roxy x Chica, Monty, Sundrop (fnaf)

Mike + Personalities (total drama)

Alice angel, Boris (Batim)

Zack, Player, Ivy, Graham (Carmen Sandiego)

Enmu, Doma, Uzui Tengen, Mitsuri, Nezuko

Judy, Raymond, Kabuki, Isabel, Brewster, Rover (Animal Crossing)

Sokka, Zuko, Suki, Toph, Ty Lee (Atla)

Steve, Will, Max, Eleven (Stranger Things)

2D, Ace, Noodle (Gorillaz)

Ibuki, Kokichi, Gundham, Kazuichi (Danganronpa)

Natsuki, Monika (doki doki)

Howl, Ponyo, Calcifer, Souske, Ponyo’s Parents (Ghibli)

Leviathan, Mammon, Beel, Asmo (Obey me)

707, Zen (Mystic Messenger)

Sans, Papyrus, Mettaton, Spamton, Ralsei, Susie, Kris (Undertale/Deltarune)

Octane, Bloodhound (Apex Legends)

Deidara, Naruto, Kiba, Shikamaru, Itachi, Kakashi (Naruto)

Miku, Len, Galaco (Vocaloid)

Sugawara, Tanaka, Bokuto (Haikyuu!!)

Wybie, Other Father (Coraline)

Sora (Kingdom Hearts

Jack Skellington, Sally (The Nightmare Before Christmas)

Link, Revali, Mask Kid (Legend of Zelda)

Scenecore, Weirdcore, Royalcore, Dark Academia (Aesthetics)

Any pokemon swsh character (excluding Rose)

Any character from lupin the third (Excluding villains)

Marshall Lee, Cake, Princess Bubblegum, Marceline

Robin, Jynx, Beast Boy, Cyborg, Raven, Starfire, Blackfire

This Song Just Isn’t Fitting The Mood! (Blacklist!):

Irl things (ex. actors outside characters, dsmp, real people)

Countryhumans

Yansim

Chris, Chef, Scott, Courtney, Gwen, Dakota, Sam, Jo (Total drama)

Lore Olympus (I’ll only post that stuff on my main blog)

Yanderes in general!

Sanscest shippers

Madrigalcest shippers

Any 4*town member x anyone

Paula Cracker (Gorillaz)

Rika, V, Saeran (Mystic Messenger)

Lilith, Luke (Obey Me)

Sun x Moon (Fnaf)

Mr.B (Coraline)

Any “ugly” considered villager (Animal Crossing)

Mike or Will x anyone, The Mind Flayer (Stranger Things)

Tsukasa, Mistuba, Sakura (Tbhk)

Len or Ren x anyone, Miku x anyone (Vocaloid)

Any Haikyuu!! ship

The king, Toriel, Chara, Flowey (Deltarune/Undertale)

Any bnha ship that isn’t Ochamina (they just make me uncomfy)

Ozai, Sokka x anyone (Bc of his heartbreaks ;-; ATLA)

Saiouma, Tenko x men, Ultra Despair Girls, Korekiyo, Mikan, Junko (Danganronpa)

Ice king, any adventure time ships for the time being

Any parents, kohane (Project Sekai)

Any teen titan ship for the time being

#🍧{chit chat!}#🍧{watch me preform! ; request complete!}#🍧{oops sorry! ; request denied!}#🍧{promotion!}#🍧{mod emu!}

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