#and also great commitment to the band

[ringosmistress]

[wonder-worker]

J.L. Laynesmith taking the 'Buckingham Did It™' route for the murder of the Princes in the Tower AND the rumors of Edward IV's bastardy ... I have to laugh

[1nm806]

jackie did i ever talk to you abt my sprace musician fic

im sure i have at some point

uve told me about the spot is in a band and race comes to see it one?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Stages of Decomposition

The decomposition process occurs in several stages following death:

Pallor mortis

Algor mortis

Rigor mortis

Cadaveric spasm

Lividity

Putrefaction

Decomposition

Skeletonization

PALLOR MORTIS

The first stage of death.

Occurs once blood stops circulating in the body.

The cessation of an oxygenated blood flow to the capillaries beneath the skin causes the deceased to pale in appearance.

In non-Caucasians, the pallor may appear to develop an unusual hue; the skin will lose any natural lustre and appears more waxen.

Occurs quite quickly, within about 10 minutes after death.

ALGOR MORTIS

The cooling of the body after death.

The cooling process will be influenced by many factors, including the deceased’s clothing, or whether they are covered with bed linen such as blankets or duvets.

The body will typically cool to the ambient room temperature, but this alters if there is heating in the room or if there is a constant draught cooling the body.

RIGOR MORTIS

Can occur between 2 and 6 hours after death.

Factors including temperature can greatly affect this.

Caused by the muscles partially contracting, and the lack of aerobic respiration means that the muscles cannot relax from the contraction, leaving them tense, subsequently resulting in the stiffening we associate with rigor mortis.

This stage typically begins in the head, starting with the eyes, mouth, jaw and neck, and progresses right through the body.

The process is concluded approximately 12 hours after death (although, again, certain variables may occur) and lasts between 24 and 72 hours depending on circumstances.

Contrary to popular belief, rigor mortis is not a permanent state and is in fact reversed, with the muscles relaxing in the same order in which they initially stiffened.

The reversing process also takes approximately 12 hours, when the body returns to its un-contracted state.

It is possible to ‘break’ rigor mortis by manipulating and flexing the limbs. This is usually done by undertakers, pathologists or crime scene investigators who are attempting to examine or move a body – or by a murderer trying to hide their victim in the closet or the boot of a car.

CADAVERIC SPASM

A phenomenon that can be misinterpreted as rigor mortis.

The instantaneous stiffening of the body (most commonly the hands) following a traumatic death.

Unlike rigor mortis, the stiffening of the affected limb is permanent and is not reversed, causing the deceased to maintain the rigidity until such time as putrefaction causes breakdown of the particular muscle group.

Examples:

The deceased following an air crash were later discovered still clutching their seatbelts or arm rests in a final, desperate act of survival.

In a drowning case, the victim was discovered with grass from the riverbank still grasped in their hand.

Perhaps the most famous case of cadaveric spasm involves the rock band Nirvana’s lead singer, Kurt Cobain. Cobain reportedly committed suicide in April 1994. His body was discovered a few days after his death with a shotgun wound to the head, and tests revealed he had large traces of heroin in his system. He was reportedly discovered still clutching the gun in his left hand, due to cadaveric spasm. However, a great deal of controversy surrounds the veracity of this latter assumption, and indeed the cause of his death, with many people insisting and attempting to prove that he died as the result of foul play rather than suicide.

LIVIDITY

Also known as livor mortis, hypostasis, or suggillation.

Once blood can no longer circulate, it will gravitate towards the lowest point of the body.

Example: A supine body will display pinkish/purple patches of discoloration where the blood has settled in the back and along the thighs.

Occurs about 30 minutes after death, but will not necessarily be noticeable until at least 2 hours afterwards as the pooling process intensifies and becomes visible, finally peaking up to between 8 and 12 hours later.

Once it is complete, the lividity process cannot be reversed.

Therefore a body discovered lying on its side, but with staining evident in the back and shoulders, must have been moved at some point from what would have been a supine position at the time of death.

It is worth noting that if the body has had contact with the floor, a wall or other solid surface, lividity would not occur at the points of contact as the pressure would not allow the blood to seep through the capillaries and pool. The specific area of pressure will be the same colour as the rest of the body and a pattern of contact may well be evident.

PUTREFACTION

Derives from the Latin putrefacere, meaning ‘to make rotten’.

The body becomes rotten through the process known as autolysis, which is the liquefaction of bodily tissue and organs and the breakdown of proteins within the body due to the increased presence of bacteria.

The first visible sign is the discoloration of the skin in the area of the abdomen.

Bacteria released from the intestine cause the body to become bloated with a mixture of gases; over time these will leak out, and the smell will intensify to unbearable proportions.

Typically, this will attract flies that will lay eggs, which develop into maggots.

Bloating is most evident in the stomach area, genitals and face, which can become unrecognizable as the tongue and eyes are forced to protrude due to the pressure of the build-up of gases in the body.

At this stage, the body will also begin to lose hair.

The organs typically decompose in a particular order: starting with the stomach, followed by the intestines, heart, liver, brain, lungs, kidney, bladder and uterus/prostate.

Once all the gases have escaped the skin begins to turn black: this stage is called ‘black putrefaction’.

As with all the other stages of death so far, the rate of putrefaction depends on temperature and location. A body exposed to the air above ground will decompose more quickly than a body left in water or buried below ground.

During putrefaction, blistering of the skin and fermentation can also occur:

Fermentation - a type of mould that will grow on the surface of the body. This mould appears white, and is slimy or furry in texture. It also releases a very strong, unpleasant, cheesy smell.

As the putrefaction process comes to an end, fly and maggot activity will become less, which leads to the next stage.

DECOMPOSITION

The body is an organic substance comprising organisms that can be broken down by chemical decomposition.

If the body is outside, any remains that have not been scavenged or consumed by maggots will liquefy and seep into the surrounding soil.

Thus when the body decomposes it is effectively recycled and returned to nature.

SKELETONIZATION

The final stage of death is known as ‘dry decay’, when the cadaver has all but dried out: the soft tissue has all gone and only the skeleton remains.

If the cadaver is outside, not only is it exposed to the elements but it also becomes food for scavengers such as rats, crows or foxes.

As the remains are scavenged, the body parts become dispersed so it is not unusual to find skeletal remains some distance from where the body lay at the point of death.

The way in which skeletal remains are scattered in such cases is of interest to archaeologists, and is referred to as taphonomy.

Where a body has lain undiscovered at home for a period of time it has also been known for family pets, typically dogs, to feed on the body. The natural instinct of a pet is to attempt to arouse the deceased by licking them, but once it gets hungry, its survival instinct will take over and it will consider the body as little more than carrion: it will act with the same natural instinct as a scavenger in the wild, which will feed on any corpse, be it animal or human, if it is starving.

Obviously the number of pets, the body mass of the deceased and the time lapse before the body is discovered will influence to what extent it has been devoured.

For further research on the stages of decomposition and the factors that affect it, look up body farms. These are medical facilities where bodies are donated for research purposes so scientists can specifically observe the decomposition process. However, be aware that some of the images are quite graphic.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Autopsy ⚜ Pain & Violence ⚜ Injuries Bereavement ⚜ Death & Sacrifice ⚜ Cheating Death ⚜ Death Conceptions

Writing Resources PDFs

[chickadeethoughts]

reread this post and maybe this is an unpopular mclennon opinion? but i think they both didn't actually understand each other as well as they thought they did. i think both of them believed the other could read their mind and then filtered their subsequent actions as a conscious slight. like. john should know that paul is someone who keeps his feelings very closely guarded, who will always choose to keep the peace and to put on a good face when he's upset. but throughout the breakup, when paul seemingly stays as productive as ever, staying distantly polite to yoko while urging john to keep writing, keep beatling, everything's fine, time to put on a show, john takes it that paul doesn't care one way or another about their partnership dissolving, he's a perfectly capable one-man band hit machine anyway. this is seemingly confirmed by paul announcing the breakup to "sell a record," effectively ending all hope of quietly reconciling and supporting john's theory that paul was done with the beatles (john) anyway and had been on his way out once he learned he could write a #1 song without anyone's (john's) help. all he cares about is hits and money and his new perfect family and farm.

meanwhile. paul should know that john wasn't handling the pressures of the beatles well. he should know that he needed more support. but paul seems to be someone who gets stuck in his ways of thinking about people (see also: george), and doesn't seem to have ever shaken the image of john as the older, cooler teddy boy on the bus who he'd do anything to impress. he thinks the world of john and spends the 60s thinking they're in a friendly competition, not realizing john has started falling into the paranoia that he's losing. you can see it in get back. paul is waiting for john to write his next great song, to set a new bar for paul to push himself to reach. paul got john by impressing him with his music and when he's losing john he doubles down on it because he thinks that's the only valuable thing he has to offer. he might have offered the support john needed instead if he knew what that was, but he didn't. but mid-60s john, who still thinks paul understands him, thinks paul knows he needs him but chooses to spend his time flitting around swinging london instead, which deeply hurts him. john clings to yoko because she's a breath of fresh air from the constant race he's been running for a decade. a creative partner he doesn't have to chase down. someone who needs him as much as he needs her. a woman he can marry, can have a real commitment to. he can be everything to the person who is everything to him. but paul sees this as john finally outgrowing him and finding someone better.

paul also should know that john often speaks first and decides whether he believes what he said later. but it seems he only ever takes john at his word. when john leaves the beatles that's it, no negotiation, because if paul has lost john to someone more interesting, more artistic, then that's that. when john starts to talk publicly about paul's muzak and granny shit that must be true too, it's why john left after all. and granted john just wont stop shit talking him and it's not like he just fell on a keyboard and how do you sleep came out. but this is how you get a paul who starts to see himself as a villain and questions whether john did love him. he doesn't think too many people was that nasty compared to what john was saying about him in interviews because he doesn't realize that one of john's biggest fears is that he's incapable of being a great songwriter without paul. so to john, the lucky break line is paul admitting he agrees with that assessment and twisting the knife. but paul wouldn't see it that way because he's only ever had john on a pedestal.

so by the 70s, on their worst days, john thinks paul is cold marble statue who knows he's better than him and delights in it and paul thinks john is entirely out of love or use for him, if he ever had it in the first place. and of course, they could never talk about any of this openly because neither of them were willing to face the pain of confirming that their love really was one-sided.

[micahulrichdraws]

I come in peace! I don’t wanna try to convince you to take commissions! But I am curious about why you’re so strongly against them, did you have a bad experience working on one? Anyway, love your stuff, your tarot designs go so hard

Thanks for the love!! The reason isn't a bad experience or some such, it's 19 years of being a professional artist and knowing the field!

TLDR: I'm a traditional pen and ink illustrator, so it's not financially viable or creatively fulfilling.

I'm always down to talk art business, so here's a brief breakdown wall of text:

On the financial side, commission designs are almost always done at a net loss/break even for the artist, and I'm no exception. They're alright for starting out, or if you're looking to incorporate them into your marketing (IE: doing a poster design for a band to gain exposure), but typically they're roughly half the cash-per-hour for any established artist VS making an original design, and creating a print run of it.

Example: while tons of folks would look at someone charging $1k USD for a commission and think that it would be crazy cash, once you break down the math, it's pretty bad. An average design for me takes on average 30-40 hours, and that's because I don't have to communicate with anyone else. I'm just drawin' my idea. Assuming this is a dream client who has the mind-meld with me, wire transfers the $1k straight into my bank account the second it's done, that's roughly $25/hr. Once again - this looks *great*, that's around $50k/yr from drawing custom stuff! But that's not how it works. First of all, most folks would lose their *minds* at paying $1k for a commission - over the years I graphed it out, and back when I was a less-established artist, most folks would start with a budget of $100, have their limits pushed at $300, and outright refuse $500. You have to sift through all of those folks in order to get that reasonable commission. That includes folks who aren't willing to commit to a commission, don't want to say no to the price, but will still take up your time. Roughly, for me at least, 10 hours a week of it. You'll also have to run collections on roughly 20% of your customers - they may pay the deposit, but you'll have to chase them for the final payment. Even if you take the payment *in advance* you'll end up having to chase them down/get ghosted. So, realistically: you end up taking the $500, for *at least* 50 hours of work. On average, it clocked in closer to 65-70. $7.14 an hour. That's less than a third living wage and less than minimum wage. You cannot grow an art practice while actively starving. It's easier to make a design, sell it/license it/etc. to make more cash without losing your mind.

That said - After 2020, I reached a point in my career that when I take on custom work, it's typically from a larger brand with a larger scope and larger budget, ranging anywhere from $5k-$30k. That said - these businesses are typically ones that understand the industry and are far less of a headache to work with than individuals, and will give several months worth of work at a time at a living wage.

On the creative side, I enjoy making my own designs and work as opposed to other folks. I have a ton of drawings and projects I'd rather work on and share with folks of my own that are infinitely more fun than the 200th identical commission request (a biblically accurate angel that also is the grim reaper that is also Baldur's Gate 3 thirstraps/Dark Souls fan art/primarchs because Y'ALL AIN'T CREATIVE BUT MY ASTARION X SANGUINIUS SHIP CAME FIRST.) Also, most of the fun of my career is knowing as many folks as possible get to enjoy my art junk. I'd rather go through a few extra hoops and have thousands of folks see my stuff vs something only one other person gets to see.

If you made it this far, congrats, here is my favorite image I have saved in my camera roll:

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Okay this one's been stuck in my head all day but I have absolutely time to write it so please share this vision with me

Try as they might, Steve and Robin couldn't get tickets to Chrissy Cunningham's arena tour, but they could get tickets to a festival she was playing.

The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was go and stand in a muddy field for sixteen hours while they waited for the headline act. But he was pretty sure Robin was in love with her favourite musician, and he wasn't about to deny his best friend a chance at love.

So he helped her make personalised t-shirts because honestly all the other bands in the line-up kinda sounded like they sucked.

His read, "Only Here for Chrissy" on the front and "I'm Steve" on the back and Robin's read "Chrissy, Will You Be My Girlfriend?" on the front and "If Lost, Please Return To Steve" on the back.

And it turned out, as they stood against the barrier in a not so muddy field, on a lovely, warm, but overcast, May day, that even bands that sucked could be fun. Even if it was only because they spent their day with earplugs in, so their eardrums wouldn't combust, bitching about each artist's lack of ability to put notes or an outfit together.

During the lunchtime intermission, the pair made friends with the lesbian couple next to them, Kayla and Jess, who were also eagerly awaiting Chrissy's set and similarly liked to mock those who committed crimes against sound and fashion. Steve was glad to have met them, they were really nice, and he felt better about leaving her to use the bathroom or to fetch food, knowing Robin was in safe hands.

He also felt better about letting her wander off, not that it stopped him from stressing out when she and Kayla had been missing for over fifteen minutes. He spread himself out to keep their places against the railing with his back to the stage, watching the crowd intently. Jess wasn't quite as chatty once they were alone, but she seemed content enough, bobbing along to the band that'd appeared on the stage.

Steve didn't turn back around to face the stage until he spotted the girls heading back towards them, he gave them a wave and turned around to look at the guys who hadn't been attempting to destroy anyone's hearing and was met with the face of the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Pretty face, long curly hair tied up in a bun, muscle tee showing off his many tattoos, piercings and chains and glittery Docs; Steve felt himself owl blink and blush.

God's gift to mankind was kneeling centre stage, guitar in hand making the most beautiful sounds Steve had ever heard as his fingers flew over the strings, and it was only when the rest of the band kicked back in that the man looked up, winked directly at Steve, and then jumped back to his feet, spending the rest of the song bouncing around the stage.

Steve only realised his mouth was agape when Robin finally arrived next to him and elbowed him hard in the ribs, giving him the same look she did whenever he was embarrassing in the club. He watched the rest of the Corroded Coffin, according to the backdrop, set in awe. Screaming and clapping along when they wished everyone a great day, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd and taking a bow; patting each other on the back as they wandered offstage.

As soon as it was quiet again, Robin wanted to know what the hell was wrong with his face and honestly, he couldn't answer her. He didn't even believe in love, not for himself at least, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight. It didn't stop him from spending the next couple of hours watching the faces at the sides of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of his new favourite guitarist, though.

As soon as Chrissy hit the stage, Steve got lost, between filming the set and watching Robin trying not to hyperventilate when Chrissy spotted her t-shirt, pointed to her, and giving her a coy little wink, blew her a kiss.

"An old school friend is here with me tonight, and I'd like him to help me out with this next track. Especially for the beauty in the front row, this is Girlfriend!"

The crowd went wild as the beat kicked in, but Steve was still watching Robin because it looked like she'd stopped breathing altogether. That was until she gasped loudly and started smacking Steve in the way she always did whenever she got overly excited; pointing wildly at the stage, and it was only when he looked over he saw Corroded Coffins guitarist bouncing up and down next to Chrissy.

Instead of the black muscle vest and skinny jeans he'd been sporting earlier in the day, he had changed into pale blue board shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that read "Hey Steve!" written in black sharpie with a giant winking smiley face underneath that could only really be seen when he swung his guitar around his back to copy Chrissy's dance moves.

The song ended, and the friends hugged, Chrissy waving him off the stage and calling out, "Eddie Munson everybody!" letting the crowd go wild for her friend before launching into the rest of her set.

By the time Chrissy had actually left the stage, Robin looked exhausted, having screamed and sung and danced herself out. They hung around a bit, said goodbye to Kayla and Jess, wishing them a safe journey home, and they were just taking one last look at the now empty stage when he heard someone yell his name...

[runningupthatvecna]

okay so that recent cast wars interview/press game thingy still has me on the floor (positively) and i wanted to share my personal highlights (in no particular order and because i do enjoy a good chaotic press game, especially from a cast that has been hilariously entertaining so far)

– d'pharao giggling the entire time at every little thing that's being said like he only attended the whole thing to have a laugh

– "hellraisin" –will poulter (2025)

– michael gandolfini as shrek and joseph's reaction: "that's absolutely horrible"

– "cash wars" –cosmo jarvis already being done with this shit before the introduction

– kit and will being the only two taking the whole thing seriously by actually trying to gain their teams any points

– joseph and charles giggling and acting like 10 year olds in the back of the classroom while cosmo's just sitting there in his little corner looking like an annoyed father having to chaperone his six rowdy children to sunday brunch, not even moving once the entire time and just going "i don't know" and "i don't care" at everything lol he's my new spirit animal

– will being so done with the meme question, "luckily the internet has been cruel to me multiple times"

– "flame face quinn"

– this entire exchange of words and emotions: kit: "there's no way they're gonna get it" joe (to kit and charles, very quietly): "hard-on" michael (off): "panic attack?" kit (to charles and joe): "yeah hard-on" charles: :O kit: "eReCtiOn !!" which isn't even the correct answer to the question being asked charles and d'pharao: hihihi will: "he's great in heartstopper but i don't remember this moment" charles: "cause you never saw it" will: "i've watched it, I'VE WATCHED IT bruv!!!" joe: "what's your favourite fucking episode?" will, in the most british accent of british accents: "I dOnT kNoW tHE ePiSodES !!!!"

– will and d'pharao just cracking up at joe's question of what to all the boys i loved before is

– joseph's drawing of will as a cat lol

– joe: "IN WHOSE POCKET?!" kit: "in which pocket?!" will: "sorry?! puts his hand where?!" d'pharao: *loses it* joe, again: "in whose pocket?" kit: "that's fucking assault" charles: *shoving his hand into d'pharao's pocket* "i'm flirting!" will: *holds his rear side into the camera* "put your hand in my pocket!" kit (while being stuck alongside charles' hand on will's ass): "oh shit, calvin kleins!"

– "cosmo fuckface jarvis" and joseph visibly reveling in cosmo's non-reactions

– kit: "cosmo's his middle name" cosmo: "i don't care" someone let this man leave and go home to his bed lmao

– joseph and kit being total siblings kit: "i actually think i know [eddie munson's band name]" joe: "it's your demographic" charles: *loses it* kit: "??? my fucking demographic what the fuck, what are you talking about!!!!" while everyone joins charles in losing it and joe finding himself to be the most hilarious person to have ever existed which in all honesty– relatable

– kit, after charles did his gollum and stitch impression: "the veins in your neck!" joe: "it's called COMMITMENT, KIT" sassy bitch

– everyone losing their shit at "tom fuckface hardy" while joseph thinks about starting a career in comedy so hard he has to get out of his chair and resemble a tomato

– "i can tell you someone who isn't" *raises hand* –will poulter, not cast in avengers doomsday (2026)

– kit: "is it the death of the fuckface unicorn?" joe, lecturing his younger brother: "you can't use fuckface like, ALL the time" also joe, two minutes later: *starts playing with kit's ear, causing kit to wriggle out of his chair and tell him off* someone come and pick the children up from buzzfeed daycare please

– "we get wot, we get three seconds they get ONE YEAR?!" –joseph quinn (2025)

– #justiceforwarlock

– this entire group of grown men starting to act incredibly unhinged the second they are in each others presence lol

[crimsonkingart]

Head Canon

I have some HCs about SentryAgent, John and Bob, so let's talk about them

Sensitive content, like murder, suicide, drugs and sex

John

He's actually a patient person, but his teammates are all hotheads, so he loses his temper easily

He can cook, but since he can cook, he realizes that US cuisine is an offense to everything that is edible and healthy

He's had PTSD since before Lemar's death, he's a soldier who's been in every major trench in the world, so he's definitely seen a lot of shit

He hates himself for killing someone using Cap's shield, but not for the murder itself, this is because years of being in the army have desensitized him to death as a side effect of his moral choices, so he thinks that the dead guy (in TFAWS) had made his choices and the guy was aware of the risk of dying

I also like the idea that he might feel bad about the murder, so much so that he thinks that he himself doesn't deserve to continue live and has already tried to commit suicide, but failed because of fear

John is a great sniper and has excellent manual skills, such as wood carving, and he also good at handling knives

John loves eating cakes

John is bisexual, but hasn't dated anyone other than his wife since they officially got engaged

John loves metal and rock music, and maybe folk, his all-time favorite band Metallica, because is a nostalgic

John loves long foreplay and kissing (and blowjob)

John could be into bondage

John is a bottom, but he likes to switch to top if he feels good with his partner

Bob

He can cook quite well, but he hasn't done it often because he lived like a tramp

After the events of the film he suffers from eating disorders, maybe binge eating, caused by years of nutritional deficiencies and for having survived by eating little and badly

John helps him manage stress by training together (and fucking)

Bob loves Yelena and Ava and spends long movie nights with them watching Disney classics, at home when he was little he couldn't watch cartoons because his father thought they were stupid

Bob loves reading, especially fantasy or romance books, one of is fav book is Piranesi

Bob is a big romantic, he's the type who would shower you with little gifts to celebrate anniversaries, like chocolates, gloves, scarves, ready dinner, etc… just to see you smile

Bob loves plants, especially poisonous ones, he studied them hoping one day to use them to kill himself, and once he hypothesized killing himself using the Foxglove

Bob thinks that John is like a succulent, hard on the outside, soft on the inside

Bob loves Alexei's hugs because it feels like hugging a big bear

Bob is pansexual or bisexual, and he discovered it during his adolescence

SentryAgent

Bob willingly listens to John while he talks about his missions in the army because he has a competence kink

Bob clearly has the Daddy Kink and John radiates very powerful Daddy vibes when he talks about his son or watches him doing activities with his son

Bob and John sometimes listen to music in silence to pass the time

They love to hug or hold each other for hand

Bob loves pet names and calls John his Johnny Bravo

John calls Bob his Bobby Baby or Bobby Bear

Bob is top, but he hasn't had sex in a long time so he need to take confidence by having sex with John and he likes to mistreat his boyfriend a bit

They both enjoy bondage and dirty talk

They might both like roleplay

They spend time together reading

They love to cook together

When they have a date John meticulously prepares everything beforehand

Bob loves to see John in a US Agent costume and the costume has been part of some wet dreams and roleplay

John would defend Bob even from Hulk if it were necessary, but is Bob who will defend John from Hulk

Void is afraid of John, but at the same time he is attracted to him and would try to corrupt him

Sentry is attracted to John, but he rejects him, bacause Sentry thinks John is inferior to him

Okay, these are some of my HCs, they are the ones that came to mind right now

[mediumgayitalian]

do you have favorite appearance headcanons for will and nico? always super fun to see how other people imagine them

i do a lot of imagining everything @cometjuice and @skysmadness draw. however im going to start typing and see what my subconscious says:

WILL SOLACE

he's tall. altho he grew up short as shit so he's humble. except when bothering cecil but that is unrelated. short jokes made at cecil don't count.

forearms and neck are Covered in burn scars as a result of his harnessing the power of the sun to heal. they are unfixable and obvious (consequences of divine power in a mortal body). they expand and thicken every time he heals. he wraps them with bandages as often as he can. he is ashamed of them.

(none of his other siblings were so weak as to be burned by the gifts their father gave them.)

blue eyes that are the exact color of the sky at all times.

big hands.

freckles on freckles.

doesn't resemble his mother much which bothers him. but he has her hair exactly -- NOT apollo's. it is curly as fuck and frizzy and a little bit sentient?? once he was forced into a haircut bc he wouldnt brush his hair (hates it) and no matter how much silena cut off it just didn't get shorter. he has not been forced into a haircut since lol.

likes to wear his hair in pigtail braids when possible. it's very cute. he uses those little charm elastics to tie them back. his favorites are skull charm elastics nico bought him as a joke.

he is his mother's mirror tho. copies her mannerisms EXACTLY and has no fucking clue. (everyone else is well aware)

he is red green colorblind and it does indeed impact his ability to dress. (well theoretically. seeing color might not help with that battle LOL)

long long LONG and strong legs.

front teeth are just a littttttttttle bit endearingly big.

can't wink. (THINKS he can wink. cannot.)

athletic and hot.

it is news to him that he's hot. because his experience has been 1) cecil (dumb & ridiculous) 2) drew (disaster & for the ritual) and 3) nico (burning the torch since age 10 & no one agrees with him)

strong arms. perfect hug pressure

air hands but massive.

always smells like sunshine, even if it's been raining for a week. he's one of those people who always smells like they've just been outside. he also smells like lavender, which is intentional, because he uses lavender soap knowing it can have calming qualities. he smells like peppermint, sometimes, but if he smells strongly of peppermint it means he's in the throes of a nasty nasty migraine and hurting.

(his totally plain skin smells like strawberries on the wrong side of overripe. he is aware of this. he despises this. he spends a lot of time making sure he smells like anything else instead, including antiseptic.)

(nico likes the smell.)

NICO DI ANGELO

short. unfortunately. and NOT humble

fine hair but a lot of it. kind of a wave to it also.

hairy generally kind of u should See his eyebrows.

greek nose.

three distinct scars across his face and also in many other places. he doodles on them. badly. like little stick figures use the scars as spears or swords or whatever lol

committed to the punk loser aesthetic. never brushes his hair band shirts exclusively disgusting combat boots aviator jacket swaggers everywhere etc etc

fire hands

very strong but not a lot of muscle definition. will kind of limp into the ampitheater to get the ares kids snickering then BAM hell's fury. he kicks their ass. and the pathetic wet dog look works for him every time. it doesn't matter how many times he destroys his enemies. he walks into a fight looking like he was just drowned in a bucket of milk and he is underestimated. and then he does insane unprecedented things. it's great.

(it scares normal people. luckily for him his freakazoid boyfriend thinks it's hot. lol)

calluses on calluses on calluses. from cooking from his sword for his general vibes. rough ass hands fighter hands.

just The brownest eyes you'll ever see. dark dark dark dark. almost black. STUNNING in sunlight. they go golden brown when will looks at him, too.

wears his hair in a stubby ponytail whenever possible. (for 'fighting'. and not at all bc will gets swoony or anything. obviously. nico would never do that to his boyfriend of course not)

slightly crooked inscisors.

weird weird accent when you listen closely. because there's a little tinge of stretched vowels from his childhood but he almost has like. a transatlantic drawl?? from the casino?? and of course he spent so long on the streets and in the underworld that his vocabulary is unhinged and insane.

got bullied by hazel into actually taking care of his hair. it's really nice now. shiny and everything. he tries to now bully will but that is useless will is a 3-in-1 shampoo truther until he dies ("It's efficient! Hair is mostly dead cells! I am not wasting money on dead cells!" "William I am going to shear the fuckin dead cells off your scalp how about that.")

since he is a menace he frequently smells like sword polishing grease and dirt from the amount of time he spends Dragging percy and jason and any other person who challenges him across the amphitheater floor. but when he cleans up he smells like woodsmoke, a little bit, and leather from his jacket.

(his plain skin smells like dirt. grave dirt, if he's feeling sullen, but will insists it's more like the soil right when you're weeding your garden. like the soil right before plants grow, when it is most full of life and water and waiting. nico shoves him and calls him a sap. but it's nice to hear.)

[glitchinginthegarden]

I just woke up but I have something to say and don't come for me.

Johnny deserves the flak for being an asshole. He was/is. And as a Johnny lover I support him catching that flak.

But (and this isn't some petty fandom dig) I always see Kerry getting put up on this "goodest boy" pedestal and I don't get it. Kerry’s writing deserves more than that, in my opinion. He's done shitty things too and I see a lot of it just sorta ignored, but those flaws are what give him depth.

Yeah, he is a depressed, tormented rockstar (for lack of a better boil-down) who's been Going Through It™️ for 50 years. But he's also a divorcee with kids he (seemingly) does not, and has never really, prioritized.

I know it's the nature of Night City, but I still also think it's worth a mention how he was going about handling the Us Cracks girls. Blowing up the van, sure fine whatever. Literally waving a gun in their faces in their dressing room? More than a little unhinged. Especially when he's in music the industry too and knows first hand how managers fuck over their clients - case and point Kovachek doing the same to him in real time during that ordeal.

I'm not saying Kerry is a bad person. I'm just saying he's not some UwU golden boy either and he deserves to have his fucked uppery recognized more.

It's easy to forget that Johnny kept like-minded company most of the time and that includes Kerry. Kerry is still a rockerboy and rockerboys are still, in general, agents of chaos. Just because he didn't nuke the city and manipulate his band mates, doesn't mean he's the "good one" in the group.

And I'm begging ya'll not to take this as someone kind of Kerry hate post because it's not. I might not post a ton of Kerry content but I do love him. He's a great character and I honestly need to read more of his ttrpg stuff and commit it to memory. Ultimately, this is really just me rambling about folks defanging the poor guy.

[eggyrocks]

DRUNK WALK HOME

chapter eight: mistakes

masterlist

“and i was so young when i behaved twenty-five / yet now i find i’ve grown into a tall child” -fist love/late spring by mitski

It’s Wednesday, and Akaashi is reading her essay. 

It’s clear that she actually tried this time, his pen marking up less of it than he normally would. He can tell she’s out of practice, some sentences rusty and awkward, blunt transitions and thoughts that trail off. But he can see her ideas better than before, more fleshed-out, more consistent. 

He keeps looking up at her, stealing a glance between every other sentence or so. She’s slumped in her chair, arms crossed over her chest and staring off ahead, frowning. Akaashi can’t stop himself from thinking about how much she looks like her mother. She doesn’t look back at him. 

“This essay’s a lot better than your last,” Akaashi mumbles, almost like he doesn’t want her to hear him. It makes him blush to say it, and he’s grateful she refuses to look at him. “Looks like you actually tried this time.” 

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t react at all. She just sits there, with her jaw locked and her arms crossed, and does her best to pretend that Akaashi isn’t there. 

He feels guilty. It gnaws away at him, and he has this impulse to apologize, which disgusts him. He doesn’t like that he’s wronged her, and now his sense of moral superiority has slipped. He doesn’t like that he wants to fix the damage he caused. 

He looks up at her again, and sees no change in her posture, in her demeanor. He bounces his knee, and he can’t bring himself to look back down at her essay. Akaashi studies her, for a moment, the lines of her face, her narrowed eyes, the slow, deliberate breaths she takes. 

She doesn’t notice him staring. Or, maybe she does, but is so committed to ignoring him that she chooses not to comment on it. He wants her to. He wants her to snap at him, call him a freak for staring, accuse him of being obsessed, insult him, belittle him, something. 

But she just stares straight on, and Akaashi can feel himself starting to get desperate. 

“How’d your visit with your mom go?” he asks, hoping to provoke her to respond, hoping she’ll say something vile to assuage his guilt. 

“There’s only one more page left in the essay,” is the only response she gives him, though, and Akaashi is stuck. 

He turns his attention back over to her essay, and rushes through the end of it. Akaashi rushes through correcting a run-on sentence or two and then slides the essay back over to her. “There, now you can-” 

She slams her hand down on top of the stack of papers and snatches it away, standing at once. “Great, see you Friday,” she says, ready to leave. 

“Wait,” Akaashi says, standing, “listen, I’m so-”

“I said I’ll see you Friday,” she interjects harshly, finally turning to face Akaashi. He notices the tears that build in her eyes then. He can’t tell if they’re from sadness or anger. 

He’d never seen her cry before. There was a time when he didn’t think she was capable of it. Something in him softens, then, and he thinks that the damage he’s done is the kind that he wouldn’t be able to fix. 

She turns on her heel and leaves, leaving Akaashi to stand there, at their table in the library. 

It seems futile, then, to hate her. To hate someone so hated by their mother. To hate someone who so clearly hates herself. He hopes the feeling passes.

extras->

is akaashi genuinely remorseful for what he did? yes

is he mostly just trying to appease his guilt so he can go back to just plain hating yn? also yes

he sort of knew immediately that he fucked up; he picked up on the dynamics of yn and her mother before he even realized it was her mother

he was feeling defensive when kaori messaged him but it's been eating away at him since then

been quiet on the bokuto front

yn's roommates banded together when they realized her mom was coming to visit bc yn is always a complete mess afterwards and going out and drinking always makes it worse

once yn realized though she figured kaori and yukie were probably in on it and went straight to kuroo

kuroo always has a good time when he goes out with yn so he's always down

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @crownj1min @frvppe @mollyrolls @karasyuu @ciderscape @phoenix-eclipses @s1ckntw1st3d @cnnmairoll @soobin1437 @worldgyu @snail-squasher @dragonictears @ferntv @reignsaway @Lisoozi @staygoldsquatchling02 @gsyche @yuminako @spicana @hermaeusmorax @shoyostar @whorefornoodles @hqsimprevival2024 @atsumuenthusiast @lemonocityyy @itsdragonius @robinphobia @aboveasphodel @savemebrazilhinata @lllaw @dreamingofyeo @milesmoralesluvs @miliondollagirl

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[hyuny-bunny]

groupie love | Y.J. ft hyun

genre: established relationship, rockstar bf x groupie gf, smut, a touch of fluff, a sprinkle of angst

part II

MNDI (+18) CW: oral, unprotected p in v, afab reader, use of she/her/hers/girlfriend, pet names, degradation (slut, whore) , depraved possessive & slightly mean innie, hyunjin is a flirt, vouyerism, riding, squirting, fingering, oral (m receiving), mouth fucking w fingers.

a/n: if i miss any warnings let me know! also would love to turn this into a series. this was also one of the songs that got me through writing this, the other song was own my mind another recommended listen.

summary: your bf innie always had girls throwing themselves at him, just wanting a chance to say they slept with a rockstar.

He was strikingly beautiful, both on and off-stage. It couldn't be helped that every where you went people gawked. The stares were never just towards him though but you always had a hard time believing it. You two made a power couple, something ripped straight out of a book. People would look at you two like you were a dream couple you only ever saw photos of on pinterest.

He was tall, handsome, had a cold look but only had warm eyes for you. Most would assume you were just some silly side piece, but he'd fly off the handle if anyone ever so much as implied you were anything less then his muse, his love. How could anyone believe he was so committed and dedicated to you when girls threw themselves at him every night after his shows? All of them wanting a chance to check off the "i-slept-with-a-rockstar" box.

You were a goddess. Everything you touched turned to gold, including him. You were there on the side stage or balcony every show, wearing whatever trendy vintage clothes you'd find the weekends before. A rockstar girlfriend has to have a brand to live up to right? Your wardrobe littered with sparkle, lace, leather, and animal prints. Tonight was no different, knee high boots with a lace slip dress paired with his leather jacket.

The same leather jacket that's just a few nights before, a girl tried to sneak off his chair to wear while you disappeared for a moment. Shooting a glare that would make you sink back into your own skin.

His band hadn't been together for very long but they gained a lot of attention in a short span. Jisung, their lead singer, had an insane vocal range and writing ability like no other. Their drummer, Chan, was a wet dream to watch. Let's just say he was great with his hands. Their bass player really sold it though, Hyunjin, had a dark mystique to him. One couldn't quite put their finger on his energy, he was both serious and nonchallant about his talent, on top of being so strikingly beautiful. Then there was your boyfriend, lead guitarist, recognized for his sharp eyes and sharper guitar skills.

The show closed out and you made your way towards the green room, keeping a watchful on the girls lingering around the stage. Once you nodded towards their manager Minho, you slid back to find a sweaty bunch. Jeongin's head was thrown back against the couch, eyes shut, chest heaving and adam's apple bobbing. You couldn't help but notice how chiseled his muscles looked in this tank top or how his rings made his hands look extra big and the veins in his arms stood out even more-

"Stop eye fucking him and just fuck him," Hyunjin was leaned over your shoulder whispering in your ear. Jeongin still sat breathing with his eyes shut "I'm sure one of those groupie sluts out there is more then wet and willing, if you're not."

"Over my dead fucking body" You said so condescendingly sweet with a smile looking Hyunjin in the eyes.

You walked over to him, sliding the jacket off and next to him. The thud of the jacket had him turning his head and ever so slightly opening his eyes to find the source. He was happy to see you sat so perched next to him with a grin on your face, a pretty berry tint to your lips.

"Hi, enjoy the show?" He sighed lifting his head to look you fully up and down.

"Hi. Of course I did, you were amazing as always." You caressed his face while he leaned forward to kiss your lips. Holding your head in hand and the other laid on top of your thigh ever so slight rubbing the skin just underneath the hem of the dress. Another peck before he leans back to stare at you in all your beauty.

"Drink?" You ask pushing back a few hairs from his face. He hums at your touch and question.

"The usual, please." He grabs your hand kissing the palm with the end of his sentence. "I'll shower up right now while you get the drinks, i'll be quick kay?" He kisses you once more before jumping off the couch to stroll towards the bathroom that Jisung is walking out of.

"No groupie for you, Sung?" You ask while he try's to pack his bag up for the tour bus. He was shy for a lead singer. He wasn't one for one night stands unless he felt a real connection.

"Not tonight, I prefer my own company. I have another song Chan & Jeongin wanted me to go over tonight, need a clear head to do that so I'm calling it in after my drink." He was so passionate about his songs, a bit of a perfectionist.

"Someone say drinks?" Hyunjin is standing in the middle of green room now in just jeans with no shirt and a towel drying his long dark hair. He's got roses adoring the side of his body leading from his back trailing to the front his lower body near the v line.

"When did you get those?" You ask genuinely curious as you'd never seen those before. He's got a cock grin on his face. He strolls over to you standing right in front of, his crotch almost in your face. You lean back to put some distance.

"Last month. My friend, Felix, works at a tattoo parlor. I sketched it out myself, all he had to do was put the ink to skin," He lifts his arm twisting the way it travels across his body. "Wanna see where it leads to?"

He grabs your hand letting it trail from the top of his ribs moving it down to the top of his waistband, you pull your hand back, snapping out of your daze. He really was something carved by gods.

"That'll do." You clear your throat "Thanks for the tour though, let's get those drinks Ji." You stand up brushing up against Hyunjin. That cocky grin still plastered on his face.

"Will you ever give me a chance?"

"Keep dreaming."

Jisung and you order drinks at the bar, the same groupies are lingering. They get jumpy and try to rush up to Ji once you reach the bar. Minho is already blocking their chance to step between you both. You mouth a thanks to him while Ji starts talking about the next show. Hyunjin comes out of the back room emerging with a tank top now. The groupies once again flock to him seeing he's alone, all barking to trying to buy his drink.

As you're about to turn to walk back to the green room with drinks hand there's a set of arms caging you at the bar. It's not Jeongin though.

"So you cope a feel of my tattoos, run off to the bar and leave me to hyenas?" Hyun talks into your ear.

While this type of behavior would be crossing a line for most, Hyunjin, had always been like this. Even before you got with Jeongin. He had a big crush on you before and you've never given him a reason to move on, even with a boyfriend who'd probably break his hand at a given chance. He has confessed his love to you on several occasions both drunk and sober. It doesn't bother Jeongin too much, it did more in the beginning but he's come to understand, Hyunjin will always be head over heels for you. You were Hyunjin's besfriend first, it's how you two met, you were always there at his band practices. Whether it was bringing lunch, offering feedback, or passing out flyers with them for upcoming shows. Hyunjin would gush over you but never made a move, at least one that actually indicated he was genuinely interested and not being a cock fuck. He was always back and forth with people who just wanted to use him. It wasn't until Jeongin had swooped in one day, he realized it was too late for him. So he'd continue with his usual flirty banter, waiting for another chance.

"Those so called hyenas are your people, Hyun. They're just looking for a cute fuck." You beam at him with a coy smile. You slide under his arm, grabbing the drinks to head back to the green room. He made your head spin sometimes, his flirty advances always made you feel flattered but you only had eyes for Innie. When you see the entrance that leads to the green room, Innie is standing there watching you. It seems as though he's just watched everything play out, his normally soft eyes for you are narrowed on Hyunjin's silhouette.

Hyunjin must've felt the daggers the younger was throwing his way because he turned around slightly shocked to see mean demeanor that paints his face and posture. There's a girl trying her earnest best to get Jeongin to look at her but he's focused on the way you walk up to him with your drinks in hand. He smirks at the way the other three girls watch you cheerily walk up to him, he loves the way they turn green with envy. They want to be you but they will never be you or ever come close to you. He takes the drink you extend to him and wraps an arm around your shoulders pulling you to him.

"Sorry not interested." He mutters to the girl who still hadn't picked up the hint.

He walks you back to green room, you situate yourself on the couch watching him checking the hallways before closing the door. You take a few big swigs, slightly scrunching your nose at the cheap liquor used in your drink. It's only to brings your buzz sooner. Jeongin stands beside you where you sit on the couch, he throws back the whole drink. He pets the top your head with one hand while he consumes the entire drink, setting the cup down he sits next to you.

He smells heavenly, the smell of his body wash and shampoo lull you into a sweet daze. He's wearing another tank top with a loose pair of black straight leg sweats. His rings still on, accenting his pretty long fingers. He holds your hand in one hand and caresses you face with the other, his eyes scanning all over your face searching for something.

"I hate the way he paws at you." Jeongin's eyes darken with the way you look at him.

"You know I'm all yours baby," you say softly bringing his hand to your lips to kiss the finger tips.

"Hmmm... I don't know how much i believe that... Maybe you're just another groupie slut for us... for me... and he just wants a taste now..." He says this while grabbing a fist full of hair at the back of your head, using his other hand to rub up and down your thigh just under your dress. His words send shivers down your spine and makes you grow wetter with every touch.

"No I'm not like those girls out there. I'm only yours baby." You gasp at while he tightens his grip in your hair. "I'll show you, please. Innie, please you know I'm only yours."

"Show me" He's pulling you against him, his mouth latching on to yours. He's pulling you straddle his lap, gripping your hips while his mouth explores your own. He's pulling your dress up all the way to have your panties flush against his hardening cock. You can feel how hard he is and the way your panties drip you wouldn't be surprised to find a wet mark in place of where you are now.

He's slipping his hand under the waist band of your panties over your thighs. Your hands are tangled in his hair, lost in the feeling of his fervent kisses. He pulls back to you pull you off for a moment.

He's standing in front of you now undoing the drawstring of his pants. He pulls the sweats down just enough to free his cock, letting it slap against his stomach. A pumps a few strokes while you adjust to situate yourself on the edge of the couch to take him in your mouth. His fingers web in your hair as your eager mouth opens wide for him, he taps the tip just to your lips before letting you start your ministrations on him. Your hand gripping his thighs for stability, he gives only a moment to adjust to his cock in your mouth before he's moving your head for you. You gag on him as he shoves his way down your throat, your nose almost touching his abs. He pulls out the way to let breathe before stick himself back in, he's letting filthy moans out, sloppy wet gagging moans from you and your nails digging into thighs.

He pulls off your mouth just before he's about to cum, enjoying the sight of your eyeliner and mascara running on your cheeks. He taps your cheek with his hand, gesturing you to open. He's shoving fingers in your mouth without warning, be gives you a break this time, allowing you to coat in your own spit at your own pace.

"So pretty suck me off.. such a good girl suck my fingers, should let Hyunjin see what a whore you are for me." His words have you clenching your thighs together yearning for some friction.

"You want him to see you like this huh? Want him to see what a cock hungry slut you are for me? Or maybe you want his cock too?" He coo's at you while thrusting his fingers on your tongue.

He pulls his fingers out lifting your dress to shove his hands into your panties.

"So wet baby and i've barely touched you. Is this all for me? Hmm? Or is this for him too?" He's circling your clit with the fingers covered in your spit. "Such a needy slut. Gotta show you who this pussy belongs to."

He pulls the strap of your dress down with your bra latching a mouth to your tit as his fingers thrust into you. You yelp out at the pleasure and shock. He's brushing against the g spot and attacking your neck in small bites. The building orgasm is about to tip you over.

"Jeongin please... please fuck me please need your cock in me..." You whimper out and let out another whine when removes mouth and fingers. He pulls your boots off for you while you pull your dress over your head. Discarding the rest of your clothing till your down to nothing. He pulls you up off the couch sitting back down first and patting his lap.

"Ride me then. Show me how badly you need me." Without hesitation, your lifting your self onto his lap, lining his cock with your entrance. Once you're fully sat on him you both let out a moan. He lands a slap on your ass, a hard one, signaling to move. You lift off your thighs begin to rock your self against him, his hands are covering each cheek helping you with your movement but not with out a smack every second or so. It's not long before you're shaking with pleasure. You're begging him to help you.

"Don't worry baby, I got you. Just hold onto me." He lifts your hips for you and starts thrusting up into you. You yell again at the angle he hits that spongey spot inside you. Your lost in the euphoria of his thrusts, head spinning with every groan he lets out, how tightly your cunt sucks him in, and the sound of skin bouncing off the walls of the room. You almost don't notice that Hyunjin is standing in the door way, with hand cupping his crotch. His eyes are moving all across your body, taking in the scenery, every bounce, every whimper, the nail marks that cover Jeongin's shoulders from the way you clung to him.

Hyunjin's eyes don't have a chance to meet yours as your head slumps into the crock of Jeongin's neck. Innie picks up speed on his thrusts pulling you impossibly close to his chest, lifting you up just enough to hammer his cock into you. Your moans turn to cry's and screams, finally releasing all over Jeongin's lap. He's never felt more proud to make you squirt especially with Hyunjin as your witness.

You feel his cum dripping out of you, too tired to care from the orgasm. Jeongin is pushing the hair out of your face, leaving a sweet kiss on your temple whispering sweet nothings of 'good girl' 'so good for me baby'. Hyunjin ever so slight snakes out of the room into the hallway breathing heavily, processing what he just saw and how stiff his pants feel. Jeongin is quick to lift you with him to the shower for a quick rinse knowing he'll be running a nice hot bath for once you get back to the hotel.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Day 7: Handcuffs

A/n: Someone said Slash said he liked being handcuffed and it just makes so much sense, also Slash pouts all the time, I know it was mostly because of drugs but I swear to god this man is so pouty and I love it

Warnings: Smut, Slash gets handcuffed to a bed, voyeurism (ft. Izzy), oral (f receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Kinktober

Slash was a bitch, always flirting with groupies, sneaking off with them. You weren't exclusive but still, it didn't feel great to see him off with other girls.

Anytime you'd try to bring up your relationship he'd always brush it off, always saying something about it. "Aw, come on, what we have is perfect... now, keep doing that."

It's not that he didn't care about you, he did, always making sure you had a place to stay whether it was with him or a hotel -he'd never let you stay somewhere shitty, at least three stars wherever you were- and he'd bring you with him on tour.

He just wasn't solely committed to you, and he was happy with that relationship, it's not like you didn't reap the benefits of that relationship either, to his knowledge anyway.

You didn't sleep around, not because you couldn't but because you didn't want to. You wanted Slash, other people would just be a nuisance.

But you were quickly growing tired of Slash's antics and needed to get through to him somehow.

On more than one occasion you'd caught Izzy looking at you in a certain way, you always told yourself you wouldn't go for someone else in the band, but Slash never mentioned anything because why would he?

You were gonna take advantage of that as soon as he got off stage.

The second you were back in the hotel room you were on him, you'd managed to get him away from the venue before the groupies got to him.

Slash had already had a few drinks, when hadn't he, and easily fell onto the mattress, letting you fall on top of him, lips crashing onto his, tongue slipping into his mouth.

He'd never been especially dominant with you, taken his anger out on you maybe but he wasn't one to be dominant, and when he got submissive, fuck, he got all whiny and whimpering.

When he felt the metal of those handcuffs around his wrists he immediately hardened against you, as if it was possible to get harder than he'd already been with the way you'd been grinding on top of him.

You hooked the cuffs on the bedposts, keeping his arms apart above his head. He was partially leaning back against the pillow and was all giggly as you pulled away, tugging on the metal, wanting to pull you back for more but he couldn't.

"Oh, c'mon, you got me like this and you just pull away?" He asked, his smile quickly fading as soon as he spotted Izzy sitting in the chair in the corner. "Why's there always a fuckin' cuckchair?" He muttered, more to himself than anything.

You didn't pay much more attention to him focusing on Izzy as he stood and came over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, leaning down and kissing you.

It was sweet and warm, passionate, something Slash never gave you. You heard him tugging at the restraints, hearing them jungle as he protested, question what the fuck you were thinking.

Izzy was getting eager, pulling at your clothes and getting them off of you, flinging them across the room until you were both down to nothing.

"What the fuck! Get off her, man!" Slash called, flailing about as much as he could, the chains of the cuffs clanking as he did.

"Oh, do you ever shut up?" You asked, shooting him a look. He looked pathetic, arms spread wide, legs kicking and thrashing about until you looked at him. He was always pouting, if he wasn't pouting he was smoking, drinking, or smiling, he was always pouting, but this seemed different, it almost made you crack.

Almost.

"I've had just about enough out of you." You continued as Izzy littered kisses over your face, trailing down your neck and to your collarbone. "Always saying how we're fine just like this, but you don't want me with other men, huh?"

"Not-! Not in front of me..." He mumbled, watching as Izzy's lips went lower, to your chest. "Izzy, hey, stop there! That's mine!" His voice was getting whinier, you knew he loved your chest, always falling asleep on it, kissing it so domestically, in a way.

Your hands went to Izzy's raven hair, tangling in it and pushing him down further, faster so Slash wouldn't have to watch one of his closest friends kiss what he always did.

Izzy's calloused hands moved down your sides to your hips, roaming and squishing your ass and thighs as he got on his knees, lips pressing onto your thighs and pelvis before his tongue dipped into you, lapping at you, all while Slash sat whining on the bed.

Slash huffed, tugging on the cuffs again. "Man, you're not even doing it right!" He called. "She's not getting anything out of that! You gotta do it right!" Whether he actually cared or just wanted to get into Izzy's head you weren't sure, either way you could tell how much this was effecting him.

He had a point, though, Izzy was only focusing on tongue fucking your hole, not bothering with your clit and using his fingers. You pushed him away and got him to his feet again, turning and bending over the bed, holding yourself up with your hands and pushing your ass back to Izzy who took the first chance to push into you he could.

He was different to Slash, not in a bad way but you did miss him. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he thrusted into you, setting a good, fast and deep pace that had you close in minutes.

"You suck at that, too!" Slash whined, his squirming getting worse, like it hurt to keep going. He was getting tired of it and seeing you with Izzy right in front of him, he'd never done this to you. "It's a different angle, dude, fuckin' move your ass!"

You rolled your eyes at him and lowered yourself down onto your elbows, forcing Izzy to hit where you liked it.

"Makin' her do all the work for you, you fuckin' pussy!" That was your last straw and you stood up straighter, pushing Izzy off of you in the process.

"If you'd have just told your little whore group to fuck off we wouldn't be here!" You yelled, pointing at Slash, who was near tears now.

You felt Izzy's hands on your waist as he took a step closer to you, kissing your cheek and mumbling something about needing to get to his room before pulling his jeans back on, gathering his other clothes and walking off.

"I'm sorry." Slash said once the door had shut behind Izzy, tugging on the cuffs again. "Just-just lemme do it, I can do it." He said, trying to flip his hair out of his face so you could see his puppy eyes, of which always worked on you whether he meant for them to or not.

You crawled across the bed and sat over his lap, feeling how hard he still was under you through his jeans. You held his chin between your fingers. "Tonight and tomorrow and the day after?" You asked, staring down at him with furrowed brows.

He nodded eagerly. "You-you can move in when we get back, I promise... and no more... no more of them." He said, eyes trained on your lips. "Just you, only you, only us, I promise."

You smiled down at him. "Good" You said simply, pecking his lips. "But I'm not undoing the handcuffs." He smiled wide at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My evidence, btw

[elodieunderglass]

✅ ⛔️ 😊?

From the fanfiction ask meme!

⛔️ whats something you try to avoid in your work?

In fanfiction I try to avoid political laziness, and the tendency to make background characters all the same kind of person that indicates the writer has a REALLY limited social bubble.

In Strange Pilgrims (Good Omens https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368694/chapters/46082842 ) I needed some disposable demons for a chase scene. The source material TV adaptation took the fairly-lazy route of making disposable demons recognisable stereotypes of British “lower classes” or had them be ugly little disposable creature things. I deliberately decided to avoid that, so I had to think about what kind of person I am instead, and what I should say instead. So that’s why I decided my disposable demons would be horrible rich people/ landlords/ irl scum. I got a sly dig in at what I perceived as perfectly avoidable laziness in the adaptation, and an easy route into their descriptions;

A stereotypical mental image of "a group of menacing people and a dog, following someone in London" might involve shifty-looking people in tracksuit bottoms, and a dog whose rap sheet includes the words "pit bull" somewhere. This group of menacing people is signalling something far crueller. They are white, well-dressed, smirking - they look like Tolly's colleagues. The woman-looking one has long straightened blonde hair, and is genuinely wearing an actual padded gilet. The men-looking ones look like they've never been held accountable for anything in their lives; one looks like he has a portfolio of rental properties, and the other one looks like he has designed a social media platform.

I also liked that this gave me stuff to hang descriptions on! A landlord can be so hateful! What kind of villainous animalistic attribute do we give him? (Demons in the adaptation are given animalistic attributes; Crowley is a snake.) Pfff, no need to malign and stereotype normal animals either! No perfectly good beastie like a toad or fish needs to be put into the position of being shorthand for “vile”, when landlords are obviously black mould.

Under his brushed and shiny property-developer facade, he seems to be a creeping, suppurating mass of black mould, staining and corrosive, the kind that lurks behind paint and smirks back to the surface when you've committed to another year on the lease. The destroyed eye socket is already healing inside, filling up with fungal growths.

There. Everyone hates him, our politics are funny and cutting, we got some great inspiration, no animals were maligned, landlords were maligned, it all goes nicely and shows off a bit. All that from avoiding a lazy choice!

😊✅

relatedly I liked this continuing choice, that the people who help the heroes throughout the Strange Pilgrims are working-class folks with their own lives. Bus drivers and barefoot ghosts and marching bands and security guards and protesters and librarians, and even the sparrows. They all have voices and value, to me at least, despite being throwaway characters in a fanfic for a forty year old book.

[redcrescentmoons]

Only You In The Room

Daniel Ricciardo x male!rockstar! reader

Summary: Everyone knows Daniel loves music. What they don’t know is his (slight) crush on the bassist from one of his favorite bands.

AN: Happy Daniel birthday gang! Legit celebrating this harder than my own birthday. Sorry for the lack of posts, I’ve been fighting some hardcore writers block and don’t have any original ideas, but i wanted to do smth for Daniels bday anyway. Hope you like it!

AN2: This is purely self indulgent im sorry

AN3: (after completion) lowkey thinking of turning this into a series, what do you think?

It was a well-known fact around the paddock that Daniel loved music. Scratch that; not just the paddock knew, anyone that knew anything about the driver knew about his passion.

While Daniel often put forward his love of country music, another genre he strongly appreciated, although not quite as much as country, was rock.

So when he found a small pop-punk band through social media, he immediately followed them, hooked from the first note.

Soon, he had every song committed to memory, and started mentioning them more around his friends.

Max quickly caught on to Daniel’s new find, and as he always did when the Aussie got excited about a new artist, he asked the older man to tell him about the band.

As Daniel spoke, Max quickly caught on to the fact one was being mentioned slightly more than his band mates.

"And what’s so great about that bassist, huh mate?" the Dutch questioned "What do you mean?" replied Daniel, a slightly confused look on his face. "C’mon man, you keep on talking about him. So why?"

Daniel’s face immediately grew red as he denied the accusation, and changed the subject quickly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Max.

Daniel had only known the band for a few months, but had the pleasure to have seen them grow considerably. He followed them throughout their first out-of-city gig, to their first show in another country, to their first tour. And in a weird way, he couldn’t have felt prouder of the group of boys.

As the london-based band announced their first european tour, Daniel felt overjoyed once he came upon the realization that with his race calendar, he would be in Europe at the same time as the band would.

He bought himself a ticket for their first show of the tour, in London, the very moment he realized it was a mere 2 days after Silverstone.

The Aussie couldn’t wait for Silverstone; despite passing it off as excitement for the race, it was clearly more.

By the time the race arrived, it had completely fled his mind, leaving him to focus solely on the concert.

His outfit was planned out, his ticket was ready, including the bonus one he bought for Max, and the anticipation was coursing through his veins.

He didn’t even take the time to properly enjoy Silverstone, just counting down the time until he saw the band he had loved since he first heard them.

When the day finally arrived, he felt so excited but there was just a little bit of nervousness mixed in there. He told himself it was nothing, but the Dutchman beside him had already figured out the cause of his anxiety.

The show was being held inside a small venue, also containing a bar. Daniel immediately downed an alcoholic drink in the hopes of calming himself down. Feeling it’s effect on his body already, he dragged his friend up to the front, where they managed to get to the edge of the stage.

As the opening band went on, Daniel found himself to quite enjoy them, but grew impatient by the end of their set.

When the lights came back on and the opener left, a couple stage hands walked out to switch out the stage. Daniel found himself blushing as he stared at the man setting up the bass; it was you.

As the people around him went to get drinks between the bands, the Aussie went in a trance watching you set up your bass pedals, chatting with the stagehands, oblivious to his watchful gaze.

As Daniel’s admiration for you grew at the way you refused to let someone else set your things up for you, he suddenly snapped out of it as Max waved his hand in front of his face, a small smirk hiding at the corner of the Dutchman’s lips.

Before Daniel had the time to question it, the lights dimmed once again and the band members walked out on the stage under colored lights.

As the applause roared surprisingly loud for the small crowd, Daniel found himself cheering particularly loud, and a large smile grew on his face as he made eye contact with you, noticing the slight blush that developed on your face.

You winked at him and looked away, turning to your band mate to get the show started. You leant into the singer’s microphone, yelling "Hello everybody! We’re Nervous Breakdown! This one’s called ‘Insomnia’ and we hope you love it!" You finished your tirade with your signature smile, a contagious cross between a grin and a smirk.

Daniel screamed some more, belting out the lyrics as they came.

As the night went on, Daniel found himself having the absolute time of his life. Even Max noticed how his smiley friend was even happier than usual.

In between songs, you would use your band mates microphone to joke around and speak to the audience, your high energy and excitement contagious, spreading around the crowd like wildfire. Not that Daniel needed it.

When you announced your last song of the night, Daniel found his happiness met with a sudden wave of sadness.

That sadness was, however, diminished when your lead guitarist announced you all would be outside after the show, if anyone wanted to stick around. Of course, everyone cheered, and you went on with your final song of the night.

Once you all had bowed, and waved, and walked off the stage, people started flooding out of the room, a certain amount waiting outside until you all came out.

Despite not seeing the band exit the venue, he could tell exactly when you and the boys walked out, as a loud wave of cheers erupted from the group of people.

Daniel sat patiently at the back, waiting to meet you, his ticket and a sharpie in hand, already rehearsing what he would say to you.

When the crowd started thinning, and you were finally visible, hair disheveled from jumping around, bass on your back, tired smile on your face, Daniel’s breath was taken away.

Max, feeling his companions nervousness, planted a comforting hand the on the Aussie’s shoulder, pulling him slightly closer.

"It feels weird when it’s the other way around don’t you think? Us waiting to get something signed?" Daniel chuckled at his remark, the Dutchman having succeeded in keeping his anxiety at bay.

When he finally got to you, he was the last one there. He had to admit, he admired you for staying throughout the whole group of people, knowing firsthand what that felt like, especially after a tiring concert.

When his eyes landed on you, the whole script he had prepared in his head disappeared completely.

As much as Daniel wanted to greet the band as a whole, he just couldn’t take his eyes off the young man in front of him, extending a slightly shaky arm towards you.

"Hi, I’m Daniel. Huge fan"

Part 2?