#this playlist has been on repeat for like a month and a half

[freakylilnutjob]

tagged by @etheltheblog, thank you Ella 💕

Rules: shuffle your on repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people.

Crush - David Archuleta

right now - saturn 17

My Heart It Beats For You - grentperez

ILYSB - STRIPPED - LANY

Can’t Stand It - Never Shout Never

Still Here - Dylan Dunlap

Wave of You - Surfaces

Pretty Boy - The Neighbourhood

i’m in love with u, sorry - j’san

something special - joan

not gonna tag anyone but feel free to do this if you want!!

[azuphere]

sing me a song, you’re the music meme✨

tagged by @easy-sneezey thank youuuu <33 

Rules: shuffle your “on repeat” playlist from Spotify or the music service of your choice and post the first 10 tracks 

1. shooting star - muna  2. american teenager - ethel cain  3. an evening i will not forget - dermot kennedy 4. fuck you for ruining new york city for me - fletcher 5. escapism - raye, 070 shake  6. complex - xana 7. my therapist told me - xana 8. ruin my life - zolita 9. bad bandit - xana 10. 19 - xana

tagging: @combeauferre @leave-a-whisper @jorzuela @heartsopenminds @natigail and anyone else who wants to do this! no pressure ofc <33 

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : a series of unfortunate events . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil sighs, scrunching his eyes shut, which proved to be more difficult than it appeared with the mud mask that he applied over half an hour ago still on his face, currently drier than the gluten free bread he bought last week. He melted into his couch, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom settle into his otherwise restless body. 

Before he knew it, he found himself mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking through the self proclaimed critique’s 30 to 60 second reviews on his new movie or the finale of some show he was in, for a hit of dopamine. Which clearly wasn’t working, as each video was the same thing washed over and over again repeated with new synonyms bundled together to sound authentic (Which it rarely was) and of course, there was those few criticisms here and there, nothing uncommon. 

Vil lays his head back, scrolling some more, “Influencer Tartaglia joins the new soon to debut boyband, D!CKZ—”, he shuts his phone and tosses it to the side carelessly . . Did he ever mention his distaste for influencers moving into the entertainment industry? . . It makes his blood boil, just a tiny bit, since most of the influencers tend to ruin it for a lot of genuinely talented and lesser known actors out there, not to mention they’re so-called talent is usually mediocre at best. 

And he could go on and list all the reasons why influencers do not deserve a spot in the spotlight with the elite, and they may all seem reasonable at first, but it’s a cover-up for the real reason.

He feels some weird sort of envy, towards those individuals who put in zero effort and somehow make it, and get all these big protagonist roles right away, and how they aren’t criticized for their faults or terrible acting skills, just because they have a huge built fanbase of delusional fangirls ready to defend them from the get-go. 

Or how they aren’t criticized when they look less than perfect on screen, although he appreciates that current age viewers can acknowledge that it’s only human to get acne or maybe a pimple here and there, he didn’t meet the same fate when he was younger . .  It just makes him feel bitter . . and he’d never speak those feelings into existence, but deep down he does feel a bit hurt by the shift, it sometimes makes him feel like all those previous breakdowns were for naught. 

Vil snaps out of his pity party for one, getting up and stretching, going into the bathroom to wash off the mask before it dries out his skin (It probably already has), burn-out has hit him hard, and as much as his love for acting runs-deep, he’d rather take a break before his audience starts noticing his shift in acting. 

Which is why he agreed to hosting the show in the first place, he wanted to switch up his career, for awhile at least, he’s taking a break from acting but doesn’t want to directly leave the industry, because it’s difficult to fit right back in place once you leave, as there's always someone who could come and steal your position, and maybe even do better . . that’s why this industry is so hard to survive in, and as pitiful as it sounds, he’s practically married to his work, he can’t exactly risk it, in peace. 

Vil dries his face with a towel and then moves to grab his moisturizer, when his work phone rings. 

“Hello, this is Amanda from Descendants. Inc. We talked before reguardinging ‘Late nights & Flashing lights’ . ” . . . “So, due to a multitude of reasons, we’re kind of in a time crunch to get the premiere launched, by the end of this month actually . . . but, we’ve received confirmation on who’ll be co-hosting with you, Y/n L/n!” 

“ . . . excuse me?” 

“This must be such a shock, but Y/n has actually been our top pick for this role, and the internet seems to really want to see the two of you on-screen together, considering your screen presence, I honestly think you two will be a perfect match for the show.”  

“I—”, Vil’s voice was hoarse as he tried to mentally wrap around all the information that was just dropped, “Ah—That’s time, we’re so excited to see you on set next week.” . . . “If you’d like, I could send you y/n’s number beforehand, so the two of you could talk things through?”, that seems to snap him back to reality, as the professionalism seeps right back into him, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

The doorbell rings, informing Vil that his takeout that he ordered about two hours ago had finally arrived, but he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Drinking is completely legal at 18-19 in my country, so I'm just putting that over here before someone tries fighting with me about it (This has happened before), also Vil is currently in his late 20's.

Don't expect everything to play off of Vil in-game, since this is placed like a decade into the future, so things will be changes and messed around with to fit the current age and setting more. <3

Profiles | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

— taglist ♡ ; @well-look-at-this , @honkai-freak , @kingnem10 , @merviolet-asks , @katzline , @pebble-bb , @meigalaxy , @lordbugs , @crowbird , @yuus3n , @azriel-sama , @reivelmin , @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 , @eliza-be-t-h , @feverish-dove , @yejiswifex , @l0v3r666 , @cece-cherries , @frootloopscos , @abell2029cluster , @ephemii , @alienlatteinspace

♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)

© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[sunnie-angel]

Come Home Soon

jason todd x gn!reader

rating: general | wc: 780

inspired by this ask

Jason Todd’s never really gotten over the shock of having you in his life. He pinches himself sometimes, just to check, uncertain sometimes that this is all real. That the neat way you’ve inserted yourself into his life isn’t just an errant daydream too perfect to be true. 8 months it’s been and the butterflies in his stomach are still alive as ever.

Gotham’s been more…chaotic than usual these past few weeks. Arkham’s latest breakout has been a shit show he’d never like to repeat, thank you very much. Jason’s been half dead on his feet from all the extra patrols he’s been doing at the Bats’ requests, damage control spilling into the small hours of the morning. It’s almost a relief then, when you get invited on a road trip out of town. For a little while the constant fear that he won’t be there, that danger will come scratching at your door while he is caught unawares in a different part of the city, will be put to rest.

He is happy, then, to see you off. Presses kisses to your cheeks and reminds you to call when you arrive with a smile on his face. The relief lasts the length of time it takes for your car to disappear into traffic. It dawns on him then, that this will be the longest time you’ve spent apart since he had worked up the trembling courage to ask you out. The apartment feels hollow, without you as its living, breathing heart. There’s no music playing in the kitchen and the side table by the couch isn’t littered with your forgotten cups of tea. Half of your products are gone from the bathroom, empty holes littering the countertop. Jason doesn’t realize how much space you occupy in his life by simply existing until all of that emptiness is staring back at him.

He wonders just how far you’ve driven by now. If you’d had to stop for extra gas and if you’d chosen a sweet or savoury snack for the last half of the journey. He wonders if you have a road trip playlist or if you’d mind making one together. The two of you don’t go driving in a car often, no, Jason prefers the wind of his bike and the warmth of you at his back too much. But he thinks that he might like making exceptions for you.

It’s bittersweet, then, thinking of your life without him. You wouldn’t be half so good with using a taser as you are now. Wouldn’t know the combinations and routes for a dozen contingency plans. As he sits in that apartment so changed by your influence and pictures you winding down some country road, he thinks about the ways he’s shaped your life. Gotham’s just one city in the grand scheme of the world but every moment you’re in it, your life is at risk. Not just because of your love for him, but any stray bullet or dose of fear toxin would take you away just the same. There’s whole countries out in the world that he knows you’d love that aren’t all trying to kill you in gruesome and horrible ways. More, if you go without him.

The vibrations of his phone in his pocket shake him from his reverie. It’s your contact photo, the one you’d stolen his phone to take, that smiles up at him.

“Hiya, baby!” your voice is more cheerful than he’d expected. “We just got in for the night, you wouldn’t believe how bad traffic was getting out of the city. Actually wait, you remember that…”

He doesn’t remember the anecdote, but he appreciates the sounds of your voice washing over him. For the first time all day, he feels settled in his skin. The apartment doesn’t feel so empty with your voice filling it.

“Oh and Jason, if Mrs. Dudek down at the market is selling packzi this weekend could you pick some up?” It’s the offhanded nature of your request that cements in his mind that you’re coming back. That you’ve always been planning to come back. It soothes that little part of him that still wonders if all of this will dissolve like spun sugar on the tongue. That for all the troubles he’s brought to your door, you still choose to come home to him.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, I’ll swing by and grab some if she’s there. No guarantee they’ll all still be in the box by the time you get back.”

“Get two boxes then, you pastry fiend.” you laugh, affection colouring your voice. “I miss you and I’ll be home soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he says simply.

[chokchokk]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄) | choi san x fem!reader

a requested drummer boyfriend!san one-shot

“How do I feel like, Sannie?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar. 

You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…

“You feel like you're mine."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @ateezstanforever : @sanwhalvr : @itsvxlentine : @jeonride : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy (thank you!!!)

masterlist link | join my taglist

[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]

OH, OH, OH, AUGH!

There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime? 

You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.

And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.

Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.

So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.

Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.

San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out. 

Oh, mamma…

You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.

… mia.

San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other. 

It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.

You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.

San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?

No, you dummy.

San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.

Silence.

It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…

“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.

“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.

“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.

You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.

“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”

“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.

“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”

His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.

You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)

If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.

“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”

You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”

“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”

Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.

Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.

After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.” 

You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.

“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.

“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.

“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.

Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”

“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.

His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.

Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.

After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.

Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.

“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.” 

San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.

Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build. 

He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.

San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?

“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think. 

“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”

Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.

“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”

You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.

“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.

You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”

“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”

“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”

“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:

“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”

Ayayay…

“How is this, Y/N?”

“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.

“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”

You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.

“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?” 

You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.

“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”

“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”

“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.

“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.

“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.” 

His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.

“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.

“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”

“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”

San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.

“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.

“N- no, I-I mean–”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses. 

“Yes, good… v-very.” 

“More?”

“Yes, yes, more.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”

“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”

A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”

It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”

“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”

“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”

San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.

“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”

“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”

“Fuuck…”

Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”

San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.

“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.” 

His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath. 

“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”

“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose. 

“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”

“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.” 

Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.

“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”

“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”

“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”

Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”

“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”

You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.

“... So worth though, fuck.”

A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock. 

“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”

“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.

“Hmmm? Feels good, huh?”

“Sannie, s-so good, god– you’re so– fuck fuck fuck–”

“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”

“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”

“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.

“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”

“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”

“Thaaaat’s it…”

You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.

“Good girl…”

“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.

“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.

“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips. 

“I wanna see you, Sannie...”

“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles. 

You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.

“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.

“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns. 

There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth. 

“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically,  as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.

“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”

“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs. 

“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”

“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”

“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.

“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”

“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.

“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.

“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”

San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor. 

You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.

“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”

You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him. 

San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it. 

Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously. 

“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”

You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.

“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”

He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”

San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.

“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side. 

“Y- yes, please.”

“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”

You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release. 

Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.

“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.

“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.

“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”

San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.

His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately. 

“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”

“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”

“Hm?”

“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”

You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank  you.”

His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”

San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.

“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”

“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.

“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...” 

Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been. 

“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”

When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…

“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”

“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”

“Yeah. I want you so much.”

You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.

A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.

“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”

Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask 'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"

related hard thought "for you(r) love" : read it here

[brainrot-goes-brrrrrr]

Savannah Squad Presentation Night Headcanons/Drabble [2/3]

it has been forever :'D (everyone say thank you to @moonbiine)

ANYWAYS, here's part 2 :}

Part 1: Taylor & Logan Part 2: Ben & Tyler Part 3: Aiden & Ashlyn [WIP]

Logan's POV

Two hours and twenty-eight minutes. It has been two hours and twenty-eight minutes and we've been stuck at 76% complete for forty minutes. Whoever made Windows deserves to burn and I stand by that, cause what do you mean that they can push an update and force restart my laptop.

"Logan when was the last time you updated this?" "Logan, why are there fifteen updates that need to be downloaded?" "Bro, when was the last time you actually shut down your laptop?" ... "I've been busy, okay--"

So it might be my fault. Partially. I will admit that much, but the laptop's never given me a problem before and it was running fine. It's just old, and has a few odd... kinks? I mean, the left half of the mousepad is jammed to the point where it can't click, and, sure, the screen does go black every now and again, but just hit it a few times it works! It's character, charm even (and I can't be bothered to fix it...)!

It was, honest to God, easier for Aiden to run back to his place and grab his laptop.

"So we agree that Logan is off electronic duty right?" Taylor had asked as Ben was setting up the other computer to the television screen with Aiden helping. It was a unanimous decision. Ben and Aiden are the new tech guys.

"Yeah, that's probably for the better," I had conceded.

Ben Clarke

Ben goes next because he saved the groups sanity by suggesting that Aiden just gets his laptop. Everyone, thank Ben for the night not failing.

To address the obvious, Ben has a text to speech app on his phone, which is connected to a speaker, that he uses to present. I will say that there is a sort of humor in this for two reasons. One, the voice can either be monotoned like a typical text-to-speech program with funny pronunciation errors, or two, it will sound like one of those videos on tiktok where an AI is reading a tumblr post about SuperBats or something and gets progressively more expressive as time goes on. Personally, I want to hear exasperated robot Ben voice explaining to Aiden why "Life is a Highway" on repeat can and will be considered a torture method.

Ben's music taste is GODLY. And he's more of a eclectic listener too so he has experience with a good amount of genres. This man does not bash other genres of music that he doesn't care for, he thinks its rude to the person he's talking to and to the artist.

Aiden is the exception to this rule^^

DESPISES having to subscribe to music platforms. What do you mean that you can't listen to a song on repeat without paying, what do you mean that you will interrupt his carefully crafted playlist with a recommended song that does not fit the vibe. This end up derailing his presentation couple times.

He has a set criteria that he judges on: length, vibes, transitions, and replayability. Good playlists should at minimum be an hour, have similar vibes/sound while still being unique, the transitions between songs shouldn't be jarring, and the playlist shouldn't be painful to listen to after a month.

Taylor and Ashlyn helped him judge everyone's playlists by acting as secondary perspectives. Taylor is more open to everyone's music tastes while Ashlyn scrutinizes them more. They pretty much just took a playlist that everyone listens to regularly, one that they made but listen to it every so often, and their liked songs.

I would also like everyone to remember that the series is set in 2016... they would have songs mostly from the 2000s-2010s with the exceptions of some 90s and 80s songs. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, I'm just saying that I looked up 2010s hit songs and I'm filled with nostalgia.

Overall, Ben's criticisms and recommendations are genuinely thoughtful. Especially the recommendations. For each person, after critiquing their playlists, Ben made a slide of genres and artists that each person should check out to expand their tastes.

(I'll probably make a bit about what songs were on their playlist, idk tho)

Group Reaction (how they ranked in comparison to each other)

Personally, Tyler and Logan getting the best ratings because their playlists are very consistent in their vibes and are replayable. I also think that Ben's music taste fits the most with these two for some reason, so they got the most song recs out of everyone.

Ashlyn is third in the ranking. She has one or two that she listens to occasionally, and they're pretty short. They are absolute polar opposites though. One of the playlists is rock, since she canonically likes Paramore (if you don't, get well soon), and the other is classical music for her ballet performances.

Taylor is next. Her playlist isn't bad, its just... a bit everywhere. Like it starts pretty good, but you can tell that somewhere along the lines of creating this playlist she just added songs that she remembered that she likes. It mostly fits the same genre. Ben makes her a more organized playlist after the presentation.

Aiden is dead last. It's not because his music taste is shit. Aiden actually has a pretty good music taste. No. Its because he only listens to his liked songs on repeat like a monster. It is musical whiplash. You go from a movie theme song, to crying, to listening to white girl club music, to rock, to crying again, and then for some reason the Home Depot jingle???? The only playlists that he makes are for jokes really. Do you know the John Mulaney bit where he plays "What's New Pussycat?" 27 times. Yeah, that's Aiden.

Tyler Hernandez

Tyler's next, and, I'm letting you know now that he sprayed the fuck out of Aiden for interrupting. Yeah, Ash pulled them a part.

Motherfucker is so pleased with himself, like its honestly so funny. Aiden had him by the collar and Tyler was just fucking smiling. Taylor does throw her slipper at him for being rude, but he could honestly care less.

The slideshow itself is the most soulless thing ever made, man used the Blank Google Slides template and called it a day. Like one stock image on each slide, and its so pixelated. He probably did it like an hour ago. That's why his presentation is funny because he's just jabbing at Aiden over and over with a basic slideshow that you'd see someone pull out in a Spanish 1-2 class.

You know what? He probably had another presentation about what piercing he think would suit the group best, and just did this one out of spite cause Aiden was being loud. I take back my previous statement about him doing it an hour before getting to Logan's place, he did this on his PHONE WHEN THE LAPTOP WAS UPDATING!!!! Like Logan was taking a walk, Ben was trying to fix the computer, the girls went to make sandwiches, Aiden was running errands, and Tyler made this in an hour.

His presentation is based off a tier system where it gets more effective with each method. Methods 1-3 are pretty basic where its just stuff like duct taping his mouth shut, 4 and onwards just gets funny

I'll be completely honest, each way he put is wild, and it gets progressively more deranged as the presentation goes on. These one's my favorite

"Number 9: Dying You know, I thought this would be the best way, but the bastard got crushed by a ceiling and walked it off. I want you to try and convince me that Aiden wouldn't crawl out of hell just to ruin my day. " "Number 10: Put him in a room alone with Ashlyn's mom and dad *insert a picture of Aiden sitting not so comfortably in between Ashlyn's parents* I don't even think I need to say anything else, I mean, I will, but like... look at him"

This is honestly the shortest presentation of the night but so far it's the most chaotic (he will quickly lose this title).

Tyler went through two spray bottles, mainly for Aiden, but he did spray Taylor once or twice. She threw a shoe at him. It's only fair.

Groups Reaction

Aiden is standing to the side with a towel around himself because Logan said his grandparents would kill them for ruining their couch. He's not exactly pissed but he is kind of sulking. Honestly this just makes his presentation so much better for him.

You know how Tyler asked for suggestions in the beginning, Ben and Ashlyn give him genuine ideas. Mainly Ben, just out of good humor you know. And Tyler's taking notes.

Taylor is giggling, but she does feel a bit bad for Aiden. At some point she gives him a consolation sandwich to raise his spirits.

Logan, however, doesn't and he's just quietly enjoying the scene that's unfolding around him.

The end of these two presentations are by far more chaotic than the first two, and it feels like its only going to get worse from here(/pos). Because right now Aiden is fighting with Tyler, getting him soaked too, Taylor is filming them while Logan provides commentary, and Ashlyn is standing with Ben setting up the next powerpoint.

While it was initially decided that Aiden would go last, Ashlyn suggested that she and him switch. Mainly so that he can drip dry while presenting, and sit down when he's done.

Aiden is following a presentation that was just jabbing at him, how do you think his is going to end up now?

[sunboki]

002. THE MOVING IN DIARIES — ANTHOLOGY

PAIRING. Lee Minho x gn. reader | WORD COUNT. 2.3k & 12 minute read | SERIES PLAYLIST. | WARNINGS. cursing, anxiety, metaphor referring to getting high, talk of sex & implied smut | TROPE. friends to lovers, angst, fluff, suggestive, comfort, basically moving in together au!

( ✉️ ) — although this fic turned out shorter than expected, i have to remind myself this is a “mini”series 😭😭 please leave a reblog or comment if you enjoyed it! love you guys!!

Playful banter while driving to your new home is a must, but upon opening the door to your first home together, the big moment truly sinks in — especially when he wakes up beside you the next morning. Wow.

Heaving the massive brown boxes through the door with your boyfriend right on your heels, you practically slam the box labeled “Kitchen” in neon tape down, wiping the sweat off your brow before looking up.

It’s one thing to sign the papers to a new home, but another when you actually realize the reality of it all.

Minho seems to be in the same state of awe as well.

New. Everything is new. Your new home, a new chapter in either of your lives.

Together.

. ..

People genuinely underestimate the entire process of buying a house.

In other words, the entire daydreaming phase disappears instantly once finances, planning, and packing are introduced.

And it’s a fucking nightmare.

From initially digesting the prices to agreeing on a house in general, you’re certain gray hairs are mere days from appearing atop your head. Although, your boyfriend was here too, every step of the way.

My god were you grateful for that.

He handled the stress like a pro, picking out certain flaws in layouts you’d been completely oblivious to and always leveling you out when you got overwhelmed with things. Plus, you got to witness him looking illegally attractive in his glasses more than ever over the four-month long house-buying hell.

.

.

.

“And what about option two?” You ask, referring to your boyfriend currently calling about some new places he’d scoped out.

You swear this same conversation has popped up almost every day over the past month and a half. At this point it’s instinct going through the bottomless list, crossing off place after place, neverending.

Like you said, house-buying hell.

“Pretty spacious except the kitchen takes up half of the house,” Minho grunts, and you envision his glasses-clad self hunched at his desk with Dori on his lap, likely dozing off.

Before you can reject though, he huffs a chuckle, one filled with nothing but mischief.

“Hey, kitchen sex would be great.”

Thank god you weren’t drinking something or it definitely would’ve come out of your nose.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Awe, you love me sweetheart. And you know it's true.”

As much as you’d like to deny it, he’s no fool. Because kitchen sex with Minho is heavenly, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise. Unfortunately, your lack of reply evidently stroked his ego to no end, cocky giggle rumbling through the call.

Asshole.

You love him.

Reminding him you’d send a text while on your way home, you, as per usual, clock in for your shift after his whining and many repeated goodbyes. Yet you can’t seem to let go of the thought, plaguing your mind like an infectious virus.

Doubts.

Doubts about things working out, about your relationship working out, about your love working out. Especially once you move in, if you move in, no, of course you’ll move in, right? Where it came from you’re not sure, only aware of the tightness of your chest when you step outside for a breath of fresh air.

Suffocating. You feel suffocated.

Reaching into your pocket, moments of hesitation keep your thumb lingering longer over his number, regrettably stuffing the forsaken device in your pocket.

Not now, maybe later. It’s just a thought. Nothing serious.

Except you were a hypocrite, and it was serious, because by the time you stepped from the building you practically cried in the middle of the road, barely able to contain the frothing wail that left a nasty aftertaste burning your tongue.

Fuck it. You’re calling him.

Not until he attempts at getting out a full sentence without you dissolving into sobs does an audible phrase leave your mouth, pitifully curled up atop your bed after charting the messiest walk home in history.

“But– But what if the something happens and the agent messes up and–”

“Baby.”

The voice, the subtly stern tone immediately stops your fervent ranting. Your chest feels seconds from exploding, stifling every pained sound clambering to escape.

“This is our journey, our struggles. Don’t put so much stress on your shoulders when I’m here to help you carry it, okay? I love you, and I need you to know you’re not handling this by yourself.”

He’s speaking so quietly, so kindly, and you can only hum to keep from breaking into tears again while leant against the wall, phone pressed against your ear.

He’s said those three words more than ever in these past few weeks—knowing that he needs to hear it, that you both need to hear it. “I love you”.

It never gets old.

Also, once you're officially homeowners, you won’t have to constantly call each other anymore. It brings a watery smile to the corner of your lips.

“Hey Min?”

“Yes?” He hummed, mirroring the same sound made when he ate a good bite of food. It’s the cutest thing in the world.

“Yes?”

“Can we.. stay like this? I just want to know you’re there.”

A breathless laugh utters through the line.

“I’m right here all night sweetness.”

And like he promised, he stayed, the call ending almost seven hours later. Having fallen asleep a mere two hours in, Minho spoke all the while, mumbling to both himself and you. Plans for the future, his current grocery list, and, while deep in thought, how he so badly wanted to marry you.

He wouldn’t mention the last one when you woke up.

Eventually, he too began drifting off, and it wasn’t without telling you good night that he let himself fully travel to dreamland, whispering: “Good night baby, ‘sleep well.” Before clicking the red icon, signaling the end of the call.

Call Ended: 6:43:17.

. ..

The clock hung on his wall reads 2AM and his hand ferociously maneuvers the mouse, eyes practically bloodshot. You’re behind him on his bed, immersed just as intensely on the blinding screen.

Yesterday you’d received the best kind of news, but the trial was far from over, and you couldn’t quite celebrate till the keys came in—the exact thing you were religiously looking into right now.

He’s relentlessly scrolling through emails, running a hand through dark brown hair with prominent dark circles shadowing beaneath his lower lashes.

Having met with your agent that afternoon, you were nearly finished with the entire closing process when ding! A notification buzzes.

Scrambling, you jump off his mattress, both blinking dumbly, mouths agape.

Hello, I am pleased to inform the Minho family (you laughed at the name) your keys will be available at 8am tomorrow morning. Thank you for your cooperation, I was delighted to be the agent you chose for your first home purchase!

Oh my god.

Slowly turning to face one another, huge smiles grow at your cheeks while the boy’s apartment erupts in loud, victorious screams. He pulls you into a big hug and you do the same, mimicking his bouncing excitement.

He can’t even describe how happy he is.

This is really happening.

Your boyfriend hides himself in your chest and you gently pat his head, allowing the thundering of his heartbeat to calm.

Surreal.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t seem to stop kissing you. Perhaps it was the aftermath’s effect, too intoxicated by happiness to think sensibly. Not that he didn’t constantly kiss you normally, but this time it was different.

Plus, how could he stop when after the third kiss your lips were all puffy and glossy, begging to be kissed.

Holding your wrists, he tips his head to an angle, nipping the swollen skin of your bottom lip and ushering a deep sigh from you.

So when he does let go, you effortlessly hold his face, falling back onto the bed without a second thought other than having Minho as close to you as possible.

To say the least, fucking at almost 3AM was criminally underrated.

Towel hanging around his neck after his shower (and the euphoric afterglow), he took on the job of coordinating how each item was organized, deciding to worry about packing up your flat after coming to the conclusion trying to sleep at this point was futile.

“We’re such good adults.” You satisfy, popping the cap off the Sharpie and being sure to label the box in front of you as “Cat toys'' (Minho’s instructions).

”Please don’t ever say that again.” He leans down, stealing a peck for the nth time off your pout. You don’t complain.

You groan. “What? We just bought a house all by ourselves y’know.”

He busies himself in the bathroom, fetching additional toiletries while wearing the horrifically ugly slippers Changbin gifted him last year.

“After four months,” He says, tone laced with bemusement.

“Hey! It’s about the journey, not the reward,” You point an accusing finger his way, him responding with a rather unimpressed expression.

“You’re a loser.”

“Your loser.”

He wrinkles his nose, appearing disgusted.

Typical Minho reaction.

To no one’s surprise, you spend the remainder of the night scurrying around the place, too high on anticipation. Although, even after countless nights of no sleep, you don’t feel exhausted. You feel alive, relieved.

And it’s when he rolls over to face you, smiling so faintly you can barely make out the shadow lining his usually furrowed exterior that you realize he’s just as ecstatic as you are.

. ..

“Oh please, Lee Minho, you’re already hot, and we’re gonna be late!” You holler from his complex's parking lot, shutting the trunk filled to the brim with luggage. Of course, your boyfriend takes his sweet time sauntering over, placing the keys in your open palm and sending you a sarcastic grin.

“Never knew we booked an appointment with the house,” He scoffs, and you slip your index into his belt loop, tugging him closer with a shared sneer.

“Well now you know,” You cockily tilt your head, a sudden tension overwhelming the minimal space between you two, testing each other's teetering resolve using a mere stare and your finger still wedged in his belt.

He steps closer, you hold your breath.

So it takes you a moment to realize he said “I’m driving” till the keys were snatched from your grasp, leaving you to scoot your legs away and side-eye him the entire ride. Worst part? By the look of his stupidly-handsome-no-good-please-stop-so-I-can-despise-you smile, he enjoyed every second.

Yet, opposed to the cold-shoulder attitude on the drive there, you’re giggling like idiots upon pulling in the driveway. Your poor neighbors have to be terrified at this rate, worried their new next-door acquaintances are some deranged circus clowns or something.

They’re not half wrong.

After your starstruck admiration opening the door though, you get to work arranging things. Assembling shelves, cleaning floors, washing windows, you name it, the first half of the house was spotless.

First half.

As for now, you sprawl in Minho’s lap, a fan replacing the lack of air conditioning and a mandatorily delivered magazine fanning your sweaty faces. Any other situation you would’ve been miserable, but there’s no other contentment better than this.

Because it’s not much, but it's yours.

And that’s enough.

Despite the blinds pulled tightly closed, peach rays of light strayed through the crevices, painting the room a warm glow. You stirred awake, genuinely shocked with, one, this bedroom not being your own, two, the subtle wondering of how you ended up here from the living room, and three, a presence pressed against your back, hand slipped between your legs to hold the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“Minho. Minho!” You poke, jabbing an accusing finger against his jaw. His brow twitches, slowly blinking up at you. He grumbles, squeezing the supple skin there as if you weren’t staring at him incredulously.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Glaring into his genuinely innocent eyes, he purses his lips with a very kissable pout, appearing completely confused before noticing where his hand lay.

Compromising. Quite compromising.

“It’s warm and soft, why not? Or is it that I’m turning you o—“ Words cut short from you muffling him with a pillow, he squirms, infectious laughter radiating through the silk fabric.

Clad in basketball shorts and a plain white t-shirt that rose up just enough to grant a peek of his soft tummy when he stretched, your boyfriend padded through the hallway, approaching you only to scoop you up into his arms from behind—hand slipping beneath your top.

Before you can interfere though, he mumbles beneath his breath, voice hardly audible after just waking up.

“Don’t move, ‘wanna stay like this.”

Ah.

Morning Minho. You love morning Minho, especially now that you’re living together.

Before now, the only time you’d ever get to wake up beside each other was after, well, that. So to think about tomorrow where you'd get to do this again and again and again felt like a daydream.

Relaxing into his touch, he presses his nose into your neck, eyelids fluttering shut to simply bask in the atmosphere, the quietness occupying the home, your home.

Standing there motionless for a few moments, he takes you in, the softness of your skin dappled in sunlight filtering past the window, the rise and fall of your chest. Beautiful.

“So what’re we supposed to do now?” You aimlessly ask aloud, avoiding eye-contact with the massive amount of boxes stuffed in the corner—too exhausted to continue unpacking the night earlier. Save for another time.

“Fuck?” He mutters, but it comes out more muffled, more gravelly. Ungodly attractive.

“I…” Sentence getting caught up in your throat, you move equally as fast toward the bedroom, his nimble fingers pulling the straps of your top down your shoulders, chasing after you.

“—Hate you.” You finish, simultaneously trapped between him and the door.

Nevertheless, you give in. With Minho, you always give in.

You love him.

He knows.

> SERIES TAGLIST. @phtogravi @liknws @luckieleaf @jhstayy @meloncremesoda @chans1aptop @eternitywaveshello @meanergreener @ladylexis @love-gy-u @hanjingin @idkluvutellme @dark-anxel @yubinism @rachabreathing @seung-scrittore @fylithia @skzsupremacy @alrm02 @ener-energy @koliki @anskiiz @dprkbyn @bellamuerte1987 @ylixbok @hanjisung-enjoyer @youngunknownwitch @hwangflora @starlost-andfound @taeriffic @flwerfield

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[thepopesbastard]

play me (like i’m stuck on repeat) obikin | explicit | 14.6k

The same city, twenty-six years apart. Side A - Life as the full-time roadie and sometimes guitarist to the galaxy's most beloved Jedi rock band, Negotiator, isn't easy, but it’s been worth it just to learn from the band’s bass guitarist, Obi-Wan Kenobi himself. And then Coruscant happens. Side B - Twenty-six years, eleven studio albums, and five and a half galaxy wide tours later, Anakin, now the lead singer and guitarist of the Emperor’s Right Hand, has everything he’s ever wanted. Almost everything at least. And then Coruscant happens. Again. Or. A band au that’s not really about a band or an au.

pitch under the cut

this bad boy features: ➡ not one but TWO chapters ➡ beautiful art by ayce ➡ old man sex ➡ old man pussy ➡ anakin gagging for that old man pussy ➡ non old man sex ➡ ballless obiwan ➡ mommy issues that are never discussed but heavily implied ➡ 22 usages of the word kriff ➡ beautiful(??) prose that explores two people’s inability to move on through narrative parallelism ➡ so much more freakshit ➡ and now! a playlist.

cons: ✖ this fic has a target audience of 2 (the author and their pronis) so if you like it, we might have to get married immediately ✖ it took me like 6 months to write this so enjoyers will have to content yourselves with rereading it a million times before i write anything else ever again ✖ ???

[ja-khajay]

Tagged by @ervona to post about 5 songs I've been listening to lately! Making a little mix and match playlist based on the half dozen tracks on my phone and songs I've recently discovered. I will detail a bit about each under the cut :)

Nouar - Cheika Rimitti (rai)

Twilight of the Thunder god - Amon Amarth (metal)

What's Golden - Jurassic 5 (hiphop)

Sledgehammer - Peter Gabriel (pop)

Potions - Puscifer (? rock ?)

NOUAR

A few months ago, the combination of discovering a rai playlist on Spotify based on an artist I listen to with friends and another discovery of a radio station that exclusively plays north african and middle eastern music, the latter which became my go-to listen on the way from work for a while, I discovered this specific track. It's a huge niche hit, unknown to the general public but racking up in the millions of views online among fans of the genre and it's easy to see why! This is an absolutely hypnotic track which cleverly layers it's intrument with a catchy sung melody, periodically cut by the rythmic choir repeating its title. The main singer in the dialog has an outstanding voice and this all makes for a looping, hooking listening experience that makes you want to play it forever.

Twilight of the Thunder God

In a very different vibe, we have a track that perfectly matches it's overdesigned, historically based (yet inaccurate) cheesy madness of an album cover. This is the only song if this band I'm familiar with as a big hit. Power metal is among some of my favorite genres of music of all time, especially in it's overbearing energy and gratuitous use of double-pedals on the kick drum, fast bass and general theatrics. While I'm not a fan of growled vocals, this track compensates in my mind with one of THE catchiest hooks I know of in the genre. When I listen to TofTG, it's because I suddently remember it one day and get instantly compelled to download it on my phone and scream its lyrics at the sky until it leaves my head where it's stuck. This can take weeks...

What's Golden

Yet another radio discovery! I'm shamefully bad at hiphop, despite liking the genre a lot, no-one around me listened to it for ages so I don't have similar backlog as in other genres and as such as a grown adult am discovering it all with enthusiasm. This song sums up so many aspects I love in the genre which i'll definitly be using to nail what specific sub-genres are my favorite some day... catchy with a great flow and an instrumental that hooks you, it's impossible to not nod along to the beat and drop what I'm doing to listen to the full thing when it comes up on my playlist.

Sledgehammer

Yeah yeah it's a classic you all know it. And for a reason! This is one of, if not the only song I know which I can't separate from it's music video. I typically dislike MVs and prefer listening to music in pure audio format, but Sledgehammer comes with such a well crafted, wlel synched and creative film attached that it's always playing in my head when I hear it. This song was introduced to me by a mutual a few years ago which I'll be tagging in this post later as a thank you! I don't get its appeal as a dancey song, but it's definitly a track to dramatically walk to, which is probably the appeal the rest of this site sees in Once in a Lifetime...

Potions

For the nerds in the audience, this is a Reznor and Maynard collab so you know what you're getting into. The first thing that strikes me in this track is how loud the bass is - it turns the classic rock instrumental it's made from into something else that's just slightly overwhelming. And on top of that, very delicate vocals detail a raw, simple story of love and addiction. Where I chose this song above the many others of the band I'd been listening to a lot last month is this particular theme it has fits very well with a book series I'm reading right now, and it was easy for me to let my mind fly away with it on...:)

***

Runner ups: The Shame Of Life - Butthole Surfers / Ai vist to Lop - Mont-Jòia / Feuer Frei! - Rammstein / For me, Formidable - Charles Aznavour / It Mek - Desmond Dekker & the Aces

***

Tagging, your turn! @steamclouds @prolibytherium @internationalspacehobo @paristonhilll

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

Round 4 is near its end, and we've reached the point where we can't actually keep up two a day and have something for every day! Told you the dragons would start falling this round!! While some definitely deserve to fight for the crown, the average dragon is like a gatekeeper for the highest tier. After all, what kind of "rise to glory" story is it if they can't overcome a dragon? More importantly however, if we don't have enough for 2 every day, what next? Well it's time for Monsters of the Multiverse Qualifiers! I'll be going back and forth between the tournament and MPMM from now on. Thought there would be downtime? Think again! There might be days with only 1 entry though, setting up the new monster entries can take a while. Now onward, to glory!

Seriously, an entry can take anywhere from a few minutes to like half an hour or so depending on how well I know the creature, though thankfully I am very well versed so it's usually not bad. Unless I just get sidetracked by the joy of learning XD Completely random sidenote, I'm usually listening to either my Chill/DM playlist while doing this, or this cover on repeat. usually the latter, gets me in the right mindset to cover deadly monsters XD

That has nothing to do with anything, just thought I'd share. Used to be Noelle's varying songs from Deltarune, but for the past month this has been the soundtrack of this blog in my brain XD

[cringelordofchaos]

FOR DAY 2 OF FREAKBLR MONTH -

Listing my faces here!!! (SORTA AAA in order)

SEAN <¾¾ IDC HES SUCH A COMFORT CHAR FOR NE ABD THERE'S SM MORE TO HIM THAN SOME PPL THINK . I have a whole tag dedicated to him (#sean appreciation)(I think) and I've been obsessed w him since ep6 which isn't really THAT long ago (and my sister had him as a fav before that) but IDC. Literally have dissected every single scene he's in in my head. I swear it all makes sense. Traumatized ass. Also he can be so silly <¾¾ (he talks to a mop he calls mr broom... Maximum joyful whimsy imo) and my rp account for him is the third side blog i ever made, and the first rp account j ever made, I also have both a music and a non music playlist for him on YouTube where I just hoard and collect videos of him... And seriously guys please write more fics of him.... I started but I am incapable of finishing ANYTHING I start so it's been abandoned in my documents folder forever .... Hopefully one day...!

Basic answer but DREW ! Been a fav of mine since ep5 And idc what people say, he's cool and interesting and I'm allowed to like imperfect and even rude or antagonistic characters . Also parallels more than half the cast if were gonna be honest. Also his relationships w zoey n Jake r really fun to look into . Also my playlist for him is the largest one (w over 40 songs) and idk whether it's cuz I'm obsessed w him specifically or cuz a lot of songs r usually about heartbreak and betrYal

Lia !!!!!! Deserves more screentime but the screentime she did have did flesh her out, but I want to know more - why did she feel pressured to fit in sm to the point of her (presumably-) leaving Hailey and befriending Zoey, someone she clearly is tired of? for Jake we know he wanted to fit in n be popular cuz he's been subjected to bullying his whole life and he didn't want bad history to repeat, but is there any specific reason for Lia to go so far to change herself for others ???

daisy !!! Don't have anything specific to say but I love her sm cuz of ep7, tbe struggler

MILLYYY!! really relatable + fun and chaotic and cool (ep3 = <¾4444444), she definitely has adhd(c?), I love her friendship w Sean and Jake and Elliot, her frenemyship w Zander, her enemyship w Zoey n Henry (who she beat to the pulp)

..Zoey!!! There r so many possible explainations for why she is the way she is and she could genuinely be interesting. The potential is there and yes it's be predictable and cliche but c'mon this is tmf were talking about, id be totally down for it !!!

Honorable mentions to Background-chan (iykyk), Sadie !!!!!!!!!, henriam (inseperable) and elliot!! Theyre pretty cool!!!!!!

This... Isn't really the most accurate list but whatevs

There are probably more I forgot!!!

[pirdmystery]

tagged by @ladyfauxhawk to shuffle my on repeat and post the first 10 songs! ty for the tag!

one problem with this is i listen to my on repeat constantly so a lot of songs stay on here for a very long time and you’ve probably seen me post a lot of them before uhhhhhh anyway.

ruin you — ari mason… i love gothy pop

skinty fia — fontaines d.c. i am always listening to them but this one has had me in a chokehold for a while man those fucking lyrics.

what could have been — sting. not the last song from the arcane soundtracks you’ll see on here i’m sure.

romance — fontaines d.c. god knows i love ya. screws in my head.

apple — charli xcx what can i say half of brat is still on my on repeat and has been since summer.

all your pain — nite discovered this one from this post and have been listening to it a whole lot since

ma meilleure ennemie — stromae what did i tell you about arcane songs.

fantastic — king princess what did i tell you about arcane songs.

angels cry too — lucia & the best boys another win for gothy pop and songs that have been on my on repeat for months

drunk II — mannequin pussy this one got on here from my daan playlist!!!!

tagging @mcmissileproof @crownsofguilt @vernaldew @gratziella but feel free to ignore and if i didn’t tag you feel free to do it anyway i never know who to tag or who likes doing these!!!!!

[seonne]

geeeeeez, obsessed with your indian princess pic!!!!! Like finally get some of that masala content...What do you think about roadtrip with bakugou or bakusquad and they are all jamming on Punjabi playlist (kinni kinni, 9:45, one love, softly etc) or like bakugou finding the reader dancing Bhangra on one love randomly like that hot pink crop top girl.

(you can search it up on yt)

Thank youuuu and yes I know Tumblr was seriously lacking some Desi content. I'm South Indian so I don't know how accurate I'm going to get this but I'm gonna call on the "unity in diversity" into my blood for this one. Hope you enjoyy~

It's been two years since Bakugou and you started dating and half a year since you two moved in together. You two had a whole lot more in common than you initially thought and he thoroughly enjoyed being in your company. You made him (begrudgingly) admit that he loves the Punjabi nicknames you throw at him from time to time.

"Hello Jaan!"

"Haaye mera shonaa"

"Tch, don't call me weird stuff, dumbass!"

And living with you for these past few months brought him so much closer to the person you were at heart and your adorable annoying habits.

Including your random energy spurts which concludes in you dancing around the house.

Now how could anyone ever blame you for dancing your heart out? Indian music just slapped and listening to Shubh just awakens your Punjabi ancestors and you have to dance lest you die from embarrassment.

Bakugou comes out of the kitchen at 6:30 in the morning with a cup of strong coffee to wake up and there you are blasting One Love on your speakers in your flowy pajama pants and a wide grin on your face.

Bakugou looks at you quizzically as you place the speaker on the table and... Oh.

You break out into a dance while singing your pretty little heart out to the song and he watches you in amazement.

He watches your footwork, the seemingly carefree flow of the song and your body moving along to the rhythm with an ear splitting grin on your face. He can't help the small smile that creeps on his face as he watches you over the rim of his cup.

You laugh as your dance number ends and Bakugou along with it.

Bakugou walks up to you to wrap you in his arms as you jump onto him. He kisses your cheek as you giggle.

"So, was that a Hindi song?"

The question earns him a small smack on his shoulder.

"No fudu, that was a Punjabi song. Come on, I'll teach you some steps!"

Next thing you two know, you're teaching him the steps you just played in front of him and the entire morning is spent laughing and groaning and repeating the song over and over again until the both of you are in sync.

Safe to say, Bakugou has never danced so hard and he's always singing One Love under his breath when he thinks no one is listening. (You do tho, you just smile and don't address it in case he stops doing it).

Ok! That's the end of that. I really hope you liked it, I tried my best with it and if there's any problems with the representation here please let me know. I wanna make the requests as accurately as possible!

[bonesandthebees]

Internship is certainly going. I want to say going okay… I could be doing better but I kinda got unlucky with my internship spot and workload. This would be much easier to explain if I could just say what kinda of internship it is, but that kinda feels like too much details both for my current degree and the job I’ll be doing after. (Internet safety and all that). Anyway, what I can say is that anyone in the field irl pulls a face when they hear about my internship. The workload feels impossible, but somehow I’m doing it and I’m about half way through so *aggressively knocks on wood* it should be fine.

I do have a different internship in like a month or so and some other projects but those feel like child’s play compared to the current hell incarnate. So moral of the story: sometimes you just get to have a few mental breakdowns, pick yourself back up and go again the next day (again and again and again and again). It’s like that quote: [“It gets a little bit easier every day, but you have to keep doing it.”] or what’s the other one? [the only way out is through]. And then take plenty of breaks and do fun things even if it feels like you don’t have the time because that’s the only thing that’ll keep you going. The world is always more manageable after a good meal or a power nam or a 15 minute music break.

I’ve been blasting a lot of music based on moods, getting back into Dutch music because girl, I need to learn how to spell properly and every internship I have a song that gets me through. This one it’s ‘secret for the mad’ by Dodie. I’ve had to loop it over and over to get the motivation to try at times, to really let the words sink in, but it helps. So find a song to get you through when you need it.

Lastly, I’ve been meaning to say something about Him, but I just haven’t had the time and energy to write something coherent (aka I’m not using my 30 minutes of evening downtime that are just for me for this negative energy). Best thing is can say is that this is a good opportunity to get into new creators. Just have fun with it (hermitcraft season 10 has been getting be through this). Listen to new music. Try new things to fill the void. I’ve pruned all my playlists and social media follows and such and it felt like a fresh start. (Oh and learned your red flags people. People who don’t respect your boundaries (no matter how small) can be(come) very dangerous.)

My only issue now is that I can play since I saw Vienna and La Jolla on guitar (the picking patterns always smooth me), but now I’m not sure if I can keep doing that. I haven’t tried playing them. I feel like I should look at the lyrics first then decide. But I haven’t found any picking songs with the same soothing vibe, so I’ve been playing a bunch of my classical pieces and I really like playing the ‘romantic’ ones and for some reason the polkas and the blues? So again filling the void.

Anyway, thanks for all the well wishes. I’ve been missing you guys. This has been chaotic life updates with Spruce. I really need to start being productive now. So, bye!

-🌲

yeah of course don't say any details that would reveal too much info about you, but man that sounds stressful :( at least you'll switch to something else in a month?? I'm so sorry you're stuck in hell rn I hope you get through it alright!! make sure to take it easy when you can!! you're so right the world is so much easier to deal with after a power nap or a snack

oooo I haven't heard secret for the mad in a long time but I used to listen to dodie from time to time. I used to think of such angsty scenarios with my ships while listening to 'sick of losing soulmates'

also it's so real to have a song to help you get through shit like that. I'd say rn for me one of those songs is all american bitch by olivia rodrigo because I just have a lot of fun screaming it in the car. tested waters by loupe is a calmer one I've been listening to on repeat lately

you're right this is a great opportunity to get into new creators. I was already drifting to watching qsmp creators more often besides just phil and tubbo, but now I've been trying to tune into bagi and tina's streams if I have the time

definitely look at the lyrics first, but I feel like out of most of the ycgma songs since I saw vienna and la jolla are two of the 'safest' options you could pick for something like that. at least compared to your sister was right and losing face...

la jolla and since i saw vienna are both such pretty songs though. there's nothing wrong with playing those on your own guitar I'd say? it's not giving any money to him. but of course it's up to your own personal comfort.

good luck spruce!!! ty for checking in we all miss you over here!! <33

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 7/18/2023

idk man i just work here

listening

not another rockstar, maisie peters. spotify

this is a little poppier than i generally prefer-- the first knee-jerk comparison i can make for the vocals is taylor swift, esp in the first verse? luckily for everyone, i was white-knuckling it down the katy freeway (26 lanes. never again) and did not have the extra concentration necessary to skip it on whatever autogenerated dance playlist spotify spat out for me. as a fellow woman with a Type, i must tip my hat to ms peters.

Hmm, funny I could pick 'em in a line up, line up Pretty certain I could do it with my eyes shut, eyes shut A little self-obsessive and I sign up, sign up Where's the pen? Where's the line?

@pasta-pardner has made a gorgeously lush electronic/indie pop cowboy playlist. my very favorite song (so far, still have it on loop) is Horsie by Twilight Circus Dub Sound System. it sounds like the opening theme to Samurai Champloo. it ripples and grooves. it lives somewhere between rock and reggae. the whole album is incredible music to hang out to.

-

reading

retractionwatch (my beloved) linked out to datacolada.org in a recent article and my ears perked up. data colada gets REAL deep into the investigative reporting of specific papers, including some fascinating excel sleuthing. they use CalcChain!!! i thought i was the only one who used CalcChain!!!

CalcChain tells Excel in which order to carry out the calculations in the spreadsheet. It tells Excel something like "First solve the formula in cell A1, then the one in A2, then B1, etc." CalcChain is short for 'calculation chain'.

one of my worst traits as a person is that i looooooooove an academic trainwreck. i love watching academia eat itself. i love watching people get caught for sloppy shit like "excel file sorted REAL weird, pointing to tampering with individual data points"

-

watching

new jennings motor sport!!! the oil change is. hough. impressively disgusting. oil does some funky shit when it's been sitting for ??? decades

-

playing

ive been playing genshi/n impact like it's my job. having a lot of thoughts about crunch, and content, and player expectations vs shareholder expectations and Line Go Up and if AAA free-to-play video games are at all ethical to play for anyone ever, but hey! look at this snarky catgirl!

also lol. lmao. this is a game for children. we are all aware of the restrictions and limitations placed upon games for children in the chinese and american markets so yeah the answer is going to be yes, every time

-

making

lately i have been going to my best friend's house after work (what an unimaginable sentence a month ago) and hanging out and watching whatever toddler shows are on tv while we shoot the shit and i knit. there's another half-repeat on the baby blanket for the baby who has just turned four months old, but it's in the car and the night is dark and full of mosquitoes.

i literally cannot do any life shit, even most doctor's appointments, until i have a real physical stable address so all i am really doing is knitting and playing genshi/n and opening and closing my email like the fridge. i have one security deposit back from the old mass apt plus one more paycheck (but, crucially, not the nearly $2k from the roach apt and we are rapidly approaching lawsuit time) so the cat and i are a little bit more stable/able to put down a security deposit on something else the minute it comes along. this would not have been possible without the incredible generosity of readers like you during that very bad first week here. thank you. i want to do some sort of thank you...stream? liveblog? series of posts about something? but i'm not sure what yet. stay tuned. tell me your thoughts. what would you like to see?

[girlreviews]

Review #112: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Elton John

There are a bunch of songs on this album that we probably all know and love. If you don’t, you’ve been living under a rock or something and there’s not a lot of hope for you. They’re great. But have you ever listened to Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding? The double opener of this record. Half instrumental before leading into its vocal second half. It’s intense. Gotta wonder whose funeral this was and what their wishes were in being remembered. They weren’t messing around.

Bennie and the Jets, a damn classic, recorded in the studio but sort of made to sound as if was recorded live by adding in crowd sounds from different live shows – including that of a 1970 Jimi Hendrix show on the Isle of Wight (???). This song slaps. It’s so ridiculous. The delivery of the vocals is absurd, and it’s just really made for drunk people at a bar to shriek it over and over. I’ve lost my voice a couple of times this way.

A hit, but an underrated one (since there are so many to choose from in Elton John’s repertoire), is the album’s title track, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. I’ve always been enamored with this song and how it tells a bleak tale of someone with big dreams being faced with a harsh reality. People are all too willing to take advantage of naïve, eager, people like them. You can have everything you want – at a price. It has such stark imagery in it:

“What do you think you’ll do then?

I bet they shoot down the plane

It’ll take you a couple of vodka and tonics

To set you on your feet again

Maybe you’ll get a replacement

There’s plenty like me to be found

Mongrels, who ain’t got a penny

Sniffin’ for tidbits like you

On the ground”

It’s too short and I’m always disappointed when it’s over because I think, man, I could hear that chorus a few more times. The harmonies and production of it are just really striking and really deliver feeling like, “this life isn’t for me”. It’s not sad exactly. It’s maybe like a disappointment and acceptance. A moving on. A hard lesson learned.

What I love about this record is that it’s the original material for a 2011 album that made its way into my all-time favorites, and I felt got massively overlooked by just about everyone and that’s really just to their detriment. In 2011, Elton John and Pnau released Good Morning to the Night, which was essentially Pnau (one half of Empire of the Sun) remixing Elton’s lesser-known B-sides or album tracks into new material. A lot of them came from the album tracks of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. It. Was. Out. Standing. Pure joy to listen to. I have met approximately one other human being who gives a fuck about it. Anyway, shit was good. For example, in the title track Good Morning to the Night, they take the organ from Funeral for a Friend, and fuckin’ turn that shit into a heavenly ascent that you do not come down from. It’s no funeral. You’re alive.

My favorite track, however, is Phoenix, which lifts its lyrics exclusively from the 1973 record's Grey Seal. While the music in Phoenix is beautiful, uplifting, inspiring, and has encouraged me to run more miles than I can count – it’s the words. When I first moved to the US I spent the first few months of my time here in a very particular way. I slept a lot. A LOT. I got up every day. Made tea, in the microwave (if you know me, you know this pains me to admit), and then I ran three miles on a treadmill to get my feelings out. Then I cried. Then I watched as much Breaking Bad as one human can reasonably consume without crawling up the walls with anxiety. Rinse. Repeat. Eventually, I got a job. But this was my job for a bit while I worked out some shit in my nugget and got some rest. I had a playlist. I still have it, and I still use it when I run. It’s batshit to be honest, if anyone ever listened in on me at the gym, they’d be like what weird shit makes this girl run? Anyway. Phoenix is on there as an up-tempo feet mover, but really, as I maintain, it’s the message, which is really the verses from Grey Seal, that made me go-go-go:

“Why's it never light on my lawn

Why does it rain

And never say good-day to the new-born

On the big screen they showed us the sun

But not as bright in life as the real one

It's never quite the same as the real one

I never learned why meteors were formed

I only farmed in schools

That were so warn and torn

If anyone can cry then so can I

I read books and draw life from the eye

All my life is drawings from the eye

Your mission bells were wrought by ancient men

The roots were formed by twisted roots

Your roots were twisted then

I was re-born before all life could die

The Phoenix bird will leave this world to fly

If the Phoenix bird can fly then so can I”

This song has always made me dig deep and keep going. Whether on a stupid treadmill or in a really hard time. He asks the grey seal “How does it feel to be so wise? To see through eyes that only see what’s real?”. It makes me think of the story of The White Seal, by Rudyard Kipling. A young blue-eyed seal went against his elder's advice to seek a safe place for them all and found it, gaining a lot of wisdom on the way. Striking out on one’s own to avoid a fate that seems completely inevitable, against all the naysayers, and fucking making it happen. Anyway. One version of the song has a seal (and a phoenix) and one version of the song has a phoenix only, both versions are remarkable. Only one is on the Rolling Stones's Top 500 Albums of All Time, and that is Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.