#best song so far idk why no one's talking about it

[weepingfireflies]

Me: Listening to Epic the Musical and vibing

Remember Them: [plays]

Me:

[weasleyreidstyles]

on a night like tonight

wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠

prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)

warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption

~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx

The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.

Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.

You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.

The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.

"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"

Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.

"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.

Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?

And did he really return them?

You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.

You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.

~∞~

It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.

You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.

You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.

"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.

"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.

"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.

"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.

He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.

"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.

He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.

"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.

"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.

"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"

"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.

"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.

"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.

"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.

You've always been my favourite, darling.

The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.

Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.

~∞~

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.

"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.

"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.

"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.

"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.

"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.

"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.

"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.

[iid-smile]

can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji

a strong legacy to be left behind , chapter one

the series masterlist. | previous | next

cw: profanity, mentions of pregnancy (pills) but filtered for megumi's sake, mentions of violence in prison, you're broke, smoking cigarettes

author's note: sigh... im out of my fluff era 😞 (sorry guys) kinda wanted to write something that i think would actually happen in some sort of alternate jjk universe and um idk how far to go because this kind of stuff does happen in the manga, but writing it feels illegal??? idk...

"mom?" megumi peeks out from around the corner in the hallway. "who was calling?"

another groan escapes your lips, around the fifth one in the last three minutes, and you silence your phone once again. "your— excuse my language, shitty deadbeat dad keeps wanting to call me." you slap your hand across your forehead and lean back on the couch, a small creak coming from somewhere below. "apparently he's getting aggressive in prison. shut off the house phone, but they still found my number..."

your son comes closer to you, and you scoop him up, placing him by your side. he glances up at you, and you swear your fight or flight instincts nearly kicked in, (not that you'd be able to fight of a guy as big as toji anyways) flinching slightly from his sharp gaze. it sucks how he looks so much like his dad, because you loved megumi so much. but the image of that guy was almost too much to bear, and he's the spitting image.

"shitty?" he repeats. for a well-behaved kid, he really doesn't respect your words.

"don't say that megs, it's bad language." you swear around him all of the time, so what's the point in scolding him? "only your mama can say it."

"don't tell me what to do."

wow. okay. why do you feel threatened by a six year old? "damn, you've got his attitude too." you mutter, but you've only got yourself to blame for that. you knew you were never cut out to be a mother, so your ways of parenting weren't the best.

he snuggles closer to you, and you openly accept, moving your free hand to his hair to rub over it. "why can't i see toji?"

ah, this lovely story again. "because he left me as soon as you were born, love." really, you couldn't and didn't want to stop yourself from wrapping him up in your arms, feeling the need to protect him. "at this point, he's dead to me. seems like he doesn't feel the same though... i'm so sick of his ass." you also knew it wasn't good parenting to rant to your child about adult issues, but you've only got him to talk to.

that hug was out of comfort then. why are you lying to yourself?

he looks up at you with an irritatingly cute but blank face. "why?"

"god, i hate how many questions you ask." you speak under your breath once again, looking up at the ceiling from any sort of help from a higher being. the amount of times you've had to family-friendly-ify things that have happened isn't even funny. you're not naturally rated u for universal. it's more embarrassing when he recites those same stories to his teachers, and you get called into the school for a little talk.

yikes... here we go. "he lied when he said he gave me the right magical candy after we visited the stork. tried to make it drop you off back to where babies are made in heaven, but i wanted it to deliver you to me, whether he liked that or not." the story's got to be a little filtered somehow. you'd rather not get yourself in the principal's office again. "you're my little hero; a miracle to me. i would've given up on myself ages ago. your dad is a bad, bad man."

the type that would kill. if he found where you lived, or perhaps where megumi goes to school...

"and now i'm left broke in an apartment that barely functions, yet i still spoil my little hero." you sing-song, leaning your head back. "and with what money? i'm broke as hell, megs. can't even make both of us breakfast in the morning cuz your elementary school is too damn expensive."

"is this my fault?"

"...no. no, baby, of course not." you furrow your eyebrows more, a small pout in your lips. "if anything, you made my situation a bit more fortunate."

it's a selfish way of thinking, using your child to avoid solving your problems, using your child to wail and complain about how much you hate your life, but you've got nothing to lose. nothing to lose except for the one person you love.

you can feel your phone buzzing again.

"you stay here and watch tv, okay? mama's gonna go to the kitchen and talk to her friend." he seems a bit relieved as you let go of him, and you stand up.

you hear him mutter. "it's only playing the news though..." no shit it only plays the news, you can't afford to get a good television company that has any kids shows. that is, unless you wanna get scammed out of all of your money.

begrudgingly, you make your way to the kitchen, confirm that you closed the door completely, and answer the vibrating device. "hello?" you sigh, placing the device over your ear.

the other person on the call replies quickly. "is this miss—"

"yeah, yeah, it is. what the hell do you want?"

"um... we apologise, but we strongly suggest that you come to the prison building. he—" the guy's voice cracks. must be really nervous. "pardon me. he's been physically assaulting other inmates and guards, he doesn't follow orders, he never leaves his cell unless it's to visit the closed visits room. you know, in hopes that you'll come..."

obsessed much? where was this energy six years ago? "that's got nothing to do with me."

"please, ma'am. he won't listen to anyone, and we are unable to place him into special facilities as he doesn't emit any cursed energy." ah, he's begging? that's a first. you never would've thought you'd hear a person who works at a prison begging.

cursed energy, cursed energy, this talk again and again and again. "urgh..." you take a deep breath. your options are limited, and they won't stop calling until they can get that lunatic to calm down... surprise, surprise, you really don't want to go.

but if you were really uninterested in him, wouldn't you have already spent the bail money that's been sat on the counter for ages, neatly concealed in an envelope? wouldn't you have paid off all of your debts already? "will i— hm..." choose your words carefully, goddamn it. "can i get a reward of some sort if i go? money?"

"yes, yes! please do visit. there's nothing we can legally do to him in check anymore." ...you think this guy sounds a little too eager.

damn toji and his "supernatural powers", or else you wouldn't get yourself into this mess. finally, after your moment of silence, you respond. "okay. i'll visit."

"thank you—!" you cut off the line.

"fucking bastard..." you drop your phone on the counter, running your hands through your hair and over your face. "stressing me out for what? you don't even love me." your words turn into whispers. with haste, you rummage through your back pocket, trying to find those last few cigarettes, but as your hands were occupied, your eyes moved over to the ashtray that was collecting dust on top of the microwave. oh, right... you don't smoke anymore because there's no ventilation indoors.

you'd have to head out if you wanted to, but then megumi would be in the apartment on his own. and nobody can babysit, because you don't have anybody to ask to babysit. great, you can't smoke until monday. it's a friday afternoon. you have two whole days to get through!

you know for a fact your addiction won't hold out for that long.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi,

I am very much not american so I must admit that my first impulse when seeing all the rap/racism discourse was something like "do I really need to consume more american culture, it's fucking everywhere already". Idk but to me it feels like american/english-speaking culture absolutely dominates a lot of the world, sometimes at the cost of out own cultures and languages, if something is in English it is "good", if it is in own own languages it is "bad". Musicians often start singing in English and more american-like after a while to get bigger. We value American culture and music, they mock our accents (and languages sometimes) and best case scenario see us as funny and silly.

Then I started thinking. Do you think that americans kind of see rap kind of like foreign music still? Like low-brow unexotic foreign music.

I don't know this is a really fresh thought and I'm not sure if I am explaining it very well.

hey first off I just want to say -

you are entirely correct in your reaction that people outside of America/the English-speaking world do not need more American culture thrust upon them! this discussion is extremely centered on Americans, the reception and reaction to rap within America, and excuses that white American use to avoid interacting meaningfully with Black culture, art, and ideas. while anti-Blackness as an issue obviously extends far outside of America, this particular conversation is deeply tied to American culture. I appreciate you pointing that out!

I also think you're point about rap, and by extension other Black artforms, being Othered in American pop culture. certainly in terms of language, African American Vernacular English (AAVE), which is utilized by many rappers, is still heavily disputed in its validity as a "real" language, with many dismissing it as a bastardized version of "proper" English and associating it heavily with those who are lower-class and uneducated. in a similar way to many international artists having to work in English to gain wider recognition and validation, many Black Americans are proficient in "code switching," the practice of switching between AAVE that they likely grew up speaking and an English dialect that is considered more "professional."

similarly, I think your use of the term "low-brow" is very apt. Black music has always been met with distrust and disdain by white audiences. there's a reason that so many people feel the need to bring up sex, drugs, and violence when they talk about rap; to many white cultural gatekeepers that was all rap was. (and, like, we should very much talk about why that is in and of itself a bad thing, when white crime is so often glorified in pop culture. why is the Godfather a classic masterpiece but Black men making art about their own experiences with racism, violence, poverty, and survival don't deserve serious consideration?) and that didn't start with rap! in the early 20th century jazz, also a Black creation, was seen as dangerous for promoting promiscuity among nice white teens. no matter what Black people make, white cultural gatekeepers will find a way to start a moral panic about it.

the reverse also happens as well, with Black people being treated as foreigners even in music genres that they helped pioneer. Black Americans were hugely formative in the early days of country, but are met with hostility in the contemporary country scene. Lil Nas X's Old Town Road was one of the biggest songs of the year it was released and undeniably country but was largely snubbed by country music community, and Beyoncé's new country album, Cowboy Carter, is a direct response to her hostile reception at the Country Music Awards in 2016.

the point being, yes, I don't think it's off-base to say that, to many Americans, rap and Black music and art generally are like... very optional and avoidable parts of pop culture in the way that more white-dominated genres are not, similarly to a lot of international and especially non-English art.

[bloodreddemons]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 1-4 Hot Takes! ~

They finally dropped. They are finally here, and I have A LOT to say. (Good & the bad, my opinions of course.)

Episode 1 was kinda boring and it just seemed overall weird and off. It didn't really pick back up that well, or align with the pilot too much, and the pilot slapped.

I feel like for those who haven't seen the pilot would be so confused with what is going on or who the characters even are. It feels like you also have to do a bit of digging to actually figure out other details.

I wasn't expecting to like Adam he was funny asf and I loved his singing. Love Alex Brightman he's great.

I can see what people are saying now when they were talking about the premise changing or being different, it definitely seems that way. It just feels like it's all over the place and there's multiple things happening at once. A bit confusing.

Charlie just looks weird to me I don't know why, I kinda like how she used to look.

Sir Pentious new voice is better. Again, love Alex Brightman. Lol.

Loser, Baby, Hell is forever, Poison, & Respectless are the best songs so far. Stayed Gone is ok too tho.

I'm interested in finding out why Lilith & Alastor were gone for like 7 years. I wonder where they went and it just makes me wonder if the war against heaven was possibly planned?? 🤔

I love Brandon Roger's but I didn't really like him as Katie Killjoy I think I liked the other VA. I just don't hear Katie, I hear Bryce Tankthrust.

I wish Vivzie designed Sir Pentious with more of a steampunk look since that's what era he's from so he's not wearing almost the same exact suit every other Overlord has.

Nifty is literally fucking iconic. I enjoyed her every time she was on screen even if it was for a short time. She's so funny.

I was expecting Vox & Valentino to have deeper voices but they still sounded great.

Velvette fucking ATE I was pleasantly surprised by her. I love her so much. She's my favorite of the VVV's and her singing is so good.

Charlie & Vaggie's fight wasn't that impactful, it kinda just came out of nowhere and seemed like something that should have happened way later. It didn't even seem like such a big deal either to be an argument.

I don't really like Vox as a person for letting Valentino treat Angel Dust the way he does. Just trash. He has to know about it.

Vox is just too obsessed with Alastor. He wants his cock soooo bad it's kinda crazy. It's the most fakest beef ever. Bad meat.

I like the new VA's they're amazing, but I do really miss the old ones. Most of them.

I think Vaggie's singing is better than Charlie's and that's fucked up because singing is like her whole thing.

Camilla killing the Angel wasn't that impactful because we don't really know who she is.

I don't really care to know how they will be trying to redeem people...idk I always thought that those parts would be boring.

So far I don't think the show was worth a 4 year wait....

Huskerdust WILL be canon at this rate. They might just be the best couple.

Charlie should have lit Valentino's ass up for treating Angel Dust the way he was. She shouldn't have listened to Angel and just fucked him up. Stop crying omfg!

I get that Husk & Angel are like in the same boat & all but....is being Alastor's minion really as bad as being constantly knocked around by Valentino?

[laststandx3]

There are many bad things about wish, but one of the most annoying is how it fails to pay off its own set ups.

It's established Asha's father believes in the magic from the stars. He died of an illness (never specified), that Asha's grandfather (her father's father) never got his wish granted in YEARS, well now to me this feels targeted.

Follow my thoughts for a minute, how easy would have been with this already established set up to add the part where it's Magnifico who killed Asha's dad because he was promoting a different kind of magic that would undermine Magnifico's power? This would've established Magnifico as an actual villain from the start, manipulating people's perception of him with magic and the lengths he would go to keep his power and crown.

This would have impacted Asha's journey as well,instead of asking Magnifico to grant her grandfather's wish immediately (which imo is a good reason for him not to hire her, she literally asks for favoritism the moment she arrives), let her instead be perfect for the position, not clumsy and awkward but make her qualified and respectful of the king's secrecy about the wishes. And still she's still not hired. And then she starts questioning him, she's studied, she's ready and it's not enough and the king seemed to like her until she mentioned her father.

And then she talks with the people of rosa about the king, if that was unfair of him maybe , but the answer is that the king is good and kind and doesn't he grants everyone's wishes, isn't that so wonderful of him? (and maybe this can be a song) and at first it sounds like she just doesn't want to accept that she wasn't chosen but after the forth person answers the same exact thing, well then this starts to feel more like a script than an original thought. Just then she looks at all the wishes Magnifico's granted so far and they're all material, it's all about people owning bigger houses, better clothes, riches, nothing is about community, knowledge, about people becoming something(musicians, teachers, scientists, artists...) . The guy that got his wish granted last year also got it granted a few years ago too, Isn't that weird? Some people never get their wishes and this guy twice? And also his wish was so selfish? He wanted a swimming pool! How in the best kingdom, with the best king, nobody wishes nice things for others? And isn't that weird that she and her friends used to make graffitis and jokes on the guards but when Sleepy gave away his wish at 18 suddenly he doesn't make jokes about Magnifico's beard anymore? He's so respectful of the rules now.

And idk maybe Asha doesn't just wish upon a star and everything is given to her. Maybe Magnifico's source of magic is Star and she frees it and that's why Star tags along. The magic of the starts was real, her father was right! Star knew her dad, he tried to save the magical pet but he was killed instead! Now it's not just about freedom and justice she wants revenge. And this is maybe when she fucks up because she was too reckless, she got discovered. Her friends/family are watching how she's getting arrested/executed for treason and that's SO UNFAIR such a cognitive dissonance it breaks Magnifico's brainwash spell.

Now a song about revolution makes sense. But singing about revolution bc they want to be able to wish? Are you kidding me? Not only the movie established that you can have new wishes and that they make you whole again, but also girl, you all read the terms of services when giving Magnifico your wish. You give it to him and if he finds it worth it, it'll be granted. Making questions about the king choices is the opposite of living under a monarchy.

Ultimately I agree with everyone who says this movie feels empty, because it's true, it's a bunch of disney trope stitched together with easter eggs that don't makes us feel anything and that contradicts its own message. The fact that disney doesn't want to make grey characters anymore it's felt. And it mirrors the way people have started to see enjoying stories as media consumption, everything that alludes to people being flawed is an endorsement of abuse. So disney's characters have all turned is these empty shells of heroine tropes. They're always bubbly, their worst flaw is being clumsy, but the worst is that they're always right. Asha's quest to free the wishes is based only on her conviction that the king is wrong in not granting everyone's wish. It's never even hinted in the movie that the subjects of rosa lack something. It's a fairy-tale kingdom in every aspect (maybe the king is a bit egocentric but that hasn't hurt anyone so far), except that her grandpa's wish wasn't granted and so the king must be wrong. If it wasn't for Magnifico's long exposition of I don't accept criticism she wouldn't have questioned him. And even then, that's what living in a kingdom means, that you follow the king's rules. I'm sorry but singing about revolution and then ending the movie still under a monarchy is just contradictory with the whole premise.

[girlboybug]

writing request for a smut fic with established relationship with javi x reader? dialogue prompt: javi: “he looked at you funny” reader: “i didn’t know you were the jealous type..”

OOO i like this muahaha >:) i hope you enjoy hehe, thank u for requesting!! <3

art deco

"shining like gunmetal, cold and unsure. baby you're so ghetto, you're lookin' to score."

or the one where jealousy happens to be a good look on javi.

what’s playing 🎧 : art deco by lana del rey

content warnings : SMUT, jealous!javi, blowjobs, face fucking, car sex, semi public sex (?), unprotected sex (extremely unwise w javi idk wtf he got goin on down there), creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, themes of slut shaming, threats of exhibitionism, threats of restraints e.g cuffs, brat tamer!javi (been dying to write that)

trigger warnings : mentions/threats of gun usage, alcohol, both reader and javier are tipsy at best, if there is anything i missed pls lmk!

word count : 4k

a/n : im pulling SO MUCH out my ass w this bc i havent finished narcos and only rlly pay attention when pedro or boyd is on screen and even tho im half mexican my ass cannot speak spanish for the life of me teehee sorry yall

you’re a bad actor. 

you’re also bad at lying and honestly, just generally bad at the things javier happens to be especially good at. 

but that’s okay, javier likes you like that. it’s refreshing, endearing, to be with someone who hasn’t gotten good at lying or pretending to be someone they’re not. and actually, he’s currently watching you fail at that right now. 

you’re at the bar, swirling around your drink that he bought for you, pretending to not notice the way he’s eyeing you from across the club. he thinks it's cute how you keep stealing glances at him, giggling to yourself whenever he catches you.

you two do this little song and dance every now and then, it keeps things exciting and fun, and you never have complaints about it. 

you pretend to be the single, bored girl sitting alone at the bar, and javier just so happens to swoop in, introducing himself as the man who’s been ordering drinks for you all night, ready to charm you into his bed for the night. it’s stupid when you say it out loud, but the way he fucks you when you do this little act makes it seem like the best goddamn idea he’s ever come up with.

it’s harmless fun between a couple, and the tension you two create throughout the night is always a recipe for mind blowing sex. however, it seems things are going a bit off script tonight. 

a man invites himself to the empty barstool beside you that was reserved for javier, but he’s oblivious to the little game you’re playing right now. “hi there,” he says, grinning, and you try your best to hold back a long sigh while you greet him back politely. 

javier’s hand tightens around the beer he’s got, wishing the neck of the bottle belonged to the man staring you down. he decides he’ll keep watch for awhile, he trusts you, and wants to see how this’ll play out, despite his patience already wearing dangerously thin.

“can i buy you another drink?” he asks, motioning towards the dwindling liquid in your glass. its not a difficult question, but the answer isn’t coming to you like it should be. 

you are playing the role of a single woman tonight, and you won’t let anything go further with this guy than receiving a free drink. 

eh. why not? 

“yeah, sure, thank you.” you smile back, and he hurriedly calls over the bartender, asking for two glasses of whatever it is you ordered. javier shifts in his seat, his jaw coming down harder than it was just a moment ago as he watches you share a drink with someone that isn’t him. 

javier follows his wandering eyes, how they trail up and down your figure, making it obvious he’s wondering what you’ve got on underneath.

javier wants to walk up to him to tell him how he knows what you’ve got under that dress, because he picked it out. 

god, this night fuckin’ sucks so far. 

“i noticed you for awhile now, what’re you doin’ here all alone?” he asks, and you get a little nervous with the way he gets closer to you. “i’m just waiting for my boyfriend to show up.” you answer, deciding the single woman role didn’t feel as fun anymore. 

“ahh, i see.” he replies, and you expect him to scoot farther from you, or better yet, leave. but much to your dismay, he stays. 

“it’s just,” he starts, and you glance down at your shoes, saying a silent prayer for him to get on with what he’s got to say before he leaves you alone for good. 

“you’ve been here for awhile now, you sure he’s comin’ honey?” he questions you, faux concern in his voice and you close your eyes for a moment to hide the way they roll at him.

“yeah, i’m sure.” you reply curtly. “how about i keep you some company while you wait for him then, how’s that sound?” he gets closer than you would’ve liked, boldly resting his arm around your shoulders, and yep, that’ll do it. 

javier’s beer clatters down onto his table as he shoots up from his seat, stalking over to you. he’s quick to join you, standing tall behind your seated figure, his strong chest a familiar surface against your back. 

“uh who’re you–” 

“her boyfriend.” he answers, eyes lowered testingly, practically itching for him to give him a reason to swing. “hi baby,” you beam, turning around and craning your neck up to give him a kiss. he leans down, holding your chin while he kisses you. 

with your lips still connected, he stares at the scoffing man that just sits and watches. 

“yeah well i wasn’t the one who kept her waiting all night so why don’t you get lost? we were havin’ a conversation, weren’t we sweetheart?” he looks at you as if you’d actually agree, and you open your mouth to defend javier, but he doesn’t need you to, he’s more than eager to put this guy back in his place. 

he steps away from behind your back, moving right in front of you now, leaning in close to the man. he reaches around to his lower back, sliding his gun to the side of his waist before he’s got it in his clutch, pressing it to the man’s ribs.

“you have 3 seconds to get the fuck out my face before i stop being so polite.” he whispers in his ear, and the man stiffens with immediate fear once he registers what’s being pointed at him. 

he swivels out of the stool, hastily hopping out to make his way out the club all together. javier turns back to you once he’s out of his field of vision, expecting a profuse thank you javi, but he gets quite the opposite. 

“what the hell was that?” you question, sounding angry, and uh oh, you saw that. 

“baby,” he starts off but you just huff, climbing off the stool. “that was way too far,” you point at him and he sighs, holding your arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to settle your irritation down. 

“but he was making you uncomfortable, and you didn’t see the way he was looking at you–” 

“and what way was he looking at me for you to pull a gun out on him?” you whisper yell and he starts to join you in your frustration. 

“he looked at you…funny, like he was just thinking about fucking you the entire time.” he sounds upset that he even has to explain himself to you about this, and you catch it, deciding to throw it back at him when you turn on your heel to leave. 

he growls with annoyance as he follows you out the club, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn back and look at him.

you exhale sharply, looking up at him, switching your weight onto your left foot. “i knew you could be a little…impulsive sometimes but jesus jav, i didn’t realize you were the jealous type that would do something so…stupid.”

his annoyance is fast to turn into a hard glare, and you see the sudden shift, instantly feeling regretful. he purses his lips to the side, laughing dryly. “stupid huh?” he clicks his tongue and you shake your head, walking closer to him now.

“javi, i’m sorry,” you try to remedy the mess of this situation, but unlucky for you, what little patience he was holding onto is now gone. 

he grabs the hand of yours that’s reaching towards his jaw, he isn’t in the mood for it. he pulls you along by your wrist to the parking lot. 

“yeah, you’re about to be baby,” he mutters, and your heart picks up, your heel clad feet in turn picking up speed to keep up with him. 

he ushers you into his backseat, slamming the door behind you once you’re both in. he tugs you into his lap, your legs on either side of him, your knees making contact with the cold vinyl. his hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it hard.

you gasp a little, arching into his chest. the second you move in closer, his lips are on your’s. it’s not gentle, it’s not slow paced, and it’s not soft, no, that’s for when you’re good. and you’ve been anything but. 

you’re grinding in his lap, his growing bulge feels perfect right up against your dampening panty clad cunt, too perfect that you can’t stop yourself. you’re moaning in his mouth, struggling to keep up the pace and intensity in the way his lips are moving with your’s. 

he tastes like beer and cigarettes, smells like it too, with traces of his cologne that you love. he’s like paradise incarnate and you want to live in him forever. 

when he pulls away you're left panting in his hold, lips parted, brushing against each other, stealing the other person’s breaths. “you know,” he sighs lowly, his words trailing up your spine, leaving shivers in their wake. 

“just because i let you pretend you’re single for the night doesn’t mean you actually are,” he says, and he sounds serious, but there’s something hidden in his air, something challenging, like he wants you to argue just so he can put you right back where you belong. 

you nod heavily like he speaks words of righteousness, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i know javi, i know,” you pepper his face in kisses, but he remains still, outwardly unphased.

“guess you just got too excited at the thought of bein’ a slut huh?” he breathes out flicking a brow at you, keeping you in close when you try to inch away from him at his accusations. 

“i’m not a slut–” he unfolds your offended arms, hands leaving your wrists to hold your thighs that rest on either side of his lap. “no baby it’s alright, s’not a totally bad thing. i like sluts. they let you do whatever you want to ‘em,” he grips your thighs, forcefully sliding you off his lap and letting you land down on your knees before him. you gasp, holding onto his legs for steadiness. 

“and they let you all while tryin’ to convince you they aren’t sluts. isn’t that funny? he chuckles, caressing your cheek, peering down at you while he does so. 

“javi,” you say, you don’t know what to say next, the only certainty that remains is that his name never sounds wrong coming from you. 

“if you wanna be a slut so bad then go ahead, i won’t stop you.” he shrugs, leaning back into the seat, arms stretched out beside him. you swallow away your stuttering, running your hands up and down your thighs. “what do you want me to do?” you ask smally, looking up at him from under your lashes. 

he readjusts, lifting his hips in the air, settling back down closer to you. he tilts his head, eyes flickering from his crotch back to your gaze, “what sluts do best baby.” he says under a gravelly breath. your thighs close just a little tighter at that, feeling eager to oblige to his insinuations. 

you unzip his levi’s, unbuttoning them before you’re pulling him from out his boxers, throat getting tight at the way he pulses in your hands. precum is already beading at his tip, and you lean forward, flicking your tongue over it. he hisses quietly, a hand coming behind your neck. 

your lips envelope the tip, shutting your eyes when you trail down until you can’t take any more of him down your throat. he groans, throwing his head back, bucking his hips into your mouth. you gag around him, hand trembling while you try to jerk off what you can’t fit into your mouth. 

he rolls his head forward, holding you by the back of your head, starting to thrust further in, chuckling to himself at the way you gag. he lets you slide off him, jerking his slick cock off while you catch your breath. 

you’re staring at each other in the thick air, the night breeze sneaking in from the cracked windows, making your nipples perk from behind your lacy bra. 

the moon glimmers through the side window facing javier, and it panels his cheekbone, across his jaw and down his chin, trickling over the curve of his collarbones. 

he looks so beautiful like this, sitting tall in front of you, looking at you like he could tear you apart with one hand, jaw clenching when your thumb slides over the head of his cock. 

the way he’s looking at you elicits a reaction from your body before your mind can reach it. you lean back down, taking him deeper into your mouth. 

you don’t mind the way he keeps your head still, using your mouth the way he likes. 

he fucks your mouth like he wants to prove a point, and at this moment he doesn’t even know what the point is, he hardly even remembers where he’s currently at, the only thing that makes sense is how fucking good you’re taking him down your throat. 

you’re being so good, so perfectly compliant for him, and what’s fueling you is the tingles exploding between your thighs at the way he’s using you. 

the grunting utterances of your name in his spewing breaths adds propellent to the roaring fire building in your lower tummy. 

his groans get a little airier, picking up in quantity, coming out one after the other, fucking your mouth so deep your nose brushes against the brown curls sitting just above his cock. “look at me,” he instructs through gritted teeth, and you listen, blinking away your teary eyes to look up at him. 

he sends one, two, three, hard thrusts into your mouth before he pulls out, resting the tip over your lips. he pants to himself, shutting his eyes closed while you take this time to do the same and catch your own breath. “what’s wrong?” you sound a little rasped, and he can’t fight the smug look on his face at your voice. 

“as much as i’d like to let you continue, i got better things planned baby,” he chuckles breathlessly, pulling you back up into his lap. 

he pushes your dress up, exhaling when he sees how wet you are in the panties he picked out for you. “javi, i didn’t bring any condoms, do you have one?” you press your hands to his chest, momentarily halting him, and he looks at you, scoffing quietly. 

“huh. sluts don’t usually care about that kinda thing.” he rubs the head of his cock over your clothed clit, watching your lowered eyes fully shut, a moan slipping out at his ministrations, proving him right. “s’not gonna fit like this,” your whimper when he moves your panties to the side, flicking himself up and down your folds. “it will baby, i’ll make it fit.” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

you rarely ever got on top, he was always very adamant about taking care of you, whether that means you’re on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders or you with your wrists being hoisted by his tight grip while he fucks you senseless.

the constant is, he’s always on top. 

he’s big, no matter the position he’s got you in, it’s always a stretch he has to ease you into. which is why you’re typically reluctant to get on top, but right now he isn’t asking, he’s telling. 

“javi, s’not gonna go in like this,” you whimper nervously, curling into his chest. head on his shoulder. he rolls his eyes, fingers gliding right over your clit to shut you up. and it works, naturally, he chuckles. 

your breath gets faster when he swirls over your clit with his fingers, squirming around in his lap. he holds himself from the base of his cock, circling over your fluttering hole. your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the back of his hair. 

he starts crowning into you, pushing in the fat head of his cock, pausing the breath in the middle of your throat. it rumbles out as a pained moan when he continues pushing in. “god javi,” you whine, legs on either side of him flexing with nerves at the intrusion. 

“doin’ all the work for you baby, jus’ take it for me,” he mutters in your ear, his mustache tickling your jaw while he rubs your clit to ease you into it.

“actin’ like i haven’t fucked this pussy before, know you can handle it, sè una niña grande para mí,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, and you melt, nodding desperately. “i am,” you mumble, bracing yourself for when he bottoms out inside you. he thrusts upward, holding you by the fat your ass, pulling you down onto him. 

the air is knocked out your lungs, and all you can do is hold on to his leather clad shoulders for dear life. your hips start moving in sync, rolling into each other, and you feel insane, it feels so good, you start thinking maybe you’ll do this more often.

the sting from the stretch subsides soon, but the feeling of being full stays, and you keep it, loving how good it feels. the head of his cock nudges deep inside you, bobbing up into your throat and you fall apart, fucking yourself on him, addicted to the way he hits every little spot inside you that you need. 

you’re moaning, panting loudly in his ear, and he eats every single one of them up, gripping your hips when he guides you down onto him. kisses lay wetly across the side of his neck, teeth graze over his ear, praises of how fucking big he is, and how good he feels inside you, relay to him over and over, making his cock twitch when he picks up the pace in his thrusts. 

“you’re so nice while i fuck you baby, maybe this is how i should shut you up more often huh?” he teases, but you don’t care, you’d start arguments with him if it meant he’d always feel this good in you. 

“in so deep,” you whimper more to yourself but he hears you, he hears it all. he hears how fucking soaked you are around him, hears every little breath, every little moan that comes out of you. 

he smacks over your ass, chuckling to himself when you whine and clamp down around him. “maybe i should go find that guy huh?” he leans forward, lips on your shoulder when he ruts up into you deeper, right there to hold you closer when you keen into him at the hard thrust.

“ ‘should find him and fuck you in front of him, show him how its done, what do you think of that baby?” he grunts, hands tightening over your hips. 

you just moan, babbling something incoherent when you grind down onto him, his words acting as a lighter underneath the growing flame while you bounce on him. you squeeze around him, your body unashamed of how much you like the idea of such a dirty act. 

he feels the way you clamp down around him, chuckling breathlessly, his hand traveling behind your neck to force you to look at him. “or maybe it’s you who’d like that,” he taunts, expecting a shy shake of your head, but you just nod, trying to meet his thrusts. "i'll do whatever you want javi," you whimper pathetically, and god, that does something to him. 

"know you will, so sweet baby," he groans, leaning back to watch where you both meet, loving the sight of his cock entering and disappearing into your cunt. 

you tug at the hair from the back of his head, messily kissing all over his jaw and cheek, and he takes it all, adoring how clingy you are with him right now. he pulls the front of your dress down, hooking his fingers under the cups of your bra and groaning to himself when he sees your tits, pretty and pert under the bra, he of course, picked out for you. 

black see-through lace, his favorite. 

"gonna be the death of me, mi vida," he murmurs to himself, latching his hot eager mouth over them. he assaults the soft skin with his tongue, teeth grazing over your sensitive nipples, a smirk forming around the flesh when he teases the ghost of a bite, wanting to laugh when you squirm and arch your back at his actions. 

his fingers find their place back to your clit, rubbing over the nerves like clockwork, syncing the way you bounce on him with harder thrusts, making the pleasure surrounding you inescapable. 

breathing is getting harder, but it feels unimportant, everything does when it comes to javi. in this moment if he told you to stop breathing altogether you honestly just might listen to him. 

but it's so much so soon, and you want to hold onto the moment for as long as you can, enjoy each stroke of his cock deep inside you longer, and if he keeps touching you like this, you know you won't last. you paw at his hand, trying to push the relentless wrist away. "no more javi, m'gonna cum too fast please," you whimper, but he doesn't agree. you're finished when he's finished. 

"do i need to cuff you to the headrest or are you gonna keep those hands to yourself?" he spits, sounding harsh, sounding serious. you whine like a wounded puppy, shaking that empty little head of yours. 

"but javi," he grabs your chin, guiding your gaze downward when he moves his jacket to the side, revealing the cuffs that hang from his belt loops. "think i'm kiddin'? hands to yourself or around me. otherwise you get these. your choice," he's still inside you, and you can't take it, you throw your arms around him, hugging him close while trying to get him to move again. 

"gonna be good, gonna listen, m'sorry, please move javi, please?" 

he senses your desperation, and gives in, continuing his thrusts. you sigh in relief, following the way his hips piston up into you with your own. 

"can i touch you?" you whisper, unsure if you're allowed to, but javier relents, nodding with a kiss to your neck. you slide his jacket off eagerly, quickly unbuttoning his shirt before your hands are running along the warm skin of his shoulders, squeezing them when he thrusts right there. 

your hands drag down his chest, nails lightly digging into his tanned skin when your head falls back, rising and falling up and down on his cock. his mouth is on you again, tongue swirling over the curve of your chest, gripping them roughly in his wide palms. 

he watches you from this view, how you lose yourself when he's got his cock in you, and he thinks maybe he should have encouraged you to ride him earlier. 

he's getting close, watching you has only pulled him closer to the end, his cock twitching the more he imagines how good you'd look dripping in his cum. he imagines your trembling thighs being parted by his hands, your abused hole just leaking and leaking from his cum. 

"m'close, gonna let me finish inside mi vida?" he grunts, and you nod heavily, clamping harder down around him when he asks. "please, please javi," you beg, and who is he to deny you? 

his fingers run around your clit once more, those tight circles from the pads of his fingers bring you right there alongside with him, moaning his name in an incomprehensible voice while his face rests in the crook of your neck, bouncing you on top of him. 

"always wanted to cum in you baby, always wanted to fill you up nice an' good —fuck—, make you fuckin' full of me, just know you'd look so fuckin' good just drippin– shit," you're squeezing him like you never have before, his confessions, the ferver in the way he fucks you is just too much, your body acts before you can even process what’s happening. 

you cum all around his cock, and the pulsing of your walls, the whimpers of his name from your pretty lips is all he needs to join you in your blinding orgasm. he's cumming inside you, grunting your name and how fuckin' good you are for him, his mouth hot on your neck while he fucks you through your shared orgasms. 

he doesn't let up on your clit until the pleasure bleeds into pain, and you can't take it. with heavy breaths you collapse in his arms, panting like you've just ran a marathon, sweaty forehead resting on the cool leather of the seat. 

he gently shifts your hips backward, looking down at his cum that pours out of you. he likes the mess, likes how your cunt looks when he rubs his cum across your throbbing clit, you jump at the stimulation, begging him in a tired voice, no more javi. 

he listens, taking sympathy on your spent body. he puts your panties back over you, tucking himself away before he repositions you so you're properly sitting in his lap, letting your legs stretch across the rest of the backseat. 

"you okay mi bebita?" he murmurs softly, and you hum a sleepy yes, still buzzing from your orgasm. "still mad?" he asks jokingly, pulling a hazy giggle from you.

“i think you just fucked any anger i had left out of me." he laughs proudly at that, rubbing your back. "yeah? maybe that's how we should settle all our fights then." 

[lilwetto]

Save a horse, ride a cowboy (18+)

Scrim x Y/N

Warnings: SMUT. Also will be written in third person BUT it might change to first since it's easier for me idk yet. might change it.

A/N this is my first scrim smut, so GO EASY ON ME. I also cannot do small paragraphs. I'M SORRY. I'm learning okay lmao, this is new to me all over again- this will not be light work, ok? Also would appreciate requests n shit, I want to actually test how far I can go with these while writing my stories on wattpad. I'll update whenever I can here, there's no hate here, only love. All my smut that I post here will be on my wattpad under LTE since I want to make an imagines book based on requests. It's difficult writing stories and trying to come up with ideas for imagines so pls give me ideas.

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It's been a month since you've heard from Scott, the two of you had been fighting on and off for the last three years, being in a relationship with him had never been an easy one. You had been best friends from the start to failed lovers now, he had written a verse about you in their song Escape from Babylon- talking about how you had gone from saying "I hate you" to "I love you", you've been in love with Scott since before the fame, however he had never felt the same way about you until a few years ago. 

Your last falling out, you decided to pack all of your shit and move out of the home you two shared. He was entertaining the females on tour and that seemed to be the last of your strength to stay in that relationship, leaving hurt the most since you felt like he never fought for you. 

Unfortunately, you’d have to see him again, you were their stylist for onstage attire and helping with the style of any music video any of them would be in. You knew Scott had a music video coming up, he had been writing a new album for the last year and a half. some new genres for him to try. Autotune being his best friend of course. 

You were dreading that phone call from their manager, Kyle. He knew your relationship with Scott was in fact all over the place, everyone could see that the two of you would always fall out, it was no secret that you were slowly starting to hate the person he had become. 

The last few minutes were peaceful yet horrible as you were pulled from your thoughts by the harsh ringtone of your iPhone. You groan out loud as Kyle’s name flashed across the screen, knowing you couldn’t ignore it. He paid you to do your job. 

“What?” You mumbled after accepting the call. 

“Nice to hear you’re cheery, Y/N.” His chuckle rattled your brain, rolling your eyes in disgust. “We need you to style this next video, come out to Chihuahuan Desert.” The fucking desert? Great. You think to yourself.

“When?” You mumble. You already knew the answer to your question, now. 

“Now would be great.” You look at the time. 

“Why the fuck are you guys picking closer to 11pm?” You didn’t want to leave the comforts of your bed. You managed to find a small apartment in New Mexico since your house with Scott was located in the middle of New Mexico. 

“Y/N, we’re not doing this again, be here in the next hour.” Kyle hung up on you, making you more annoyed than ever as you climbed out of bed and threw on some clothes that’ll keep you warm for the night. 

You drive your car to Chihuahuan Desert, seeing parts of the crew already setting up the lighting for this music video. Scott hadn’t released any new music yet, he had so much in the vault and was too picky to choose what he wanted to do with them all. 

You weren’t happy that they wanted to do this music video at stupid o’clock, parking your car and climbing out. You walk towards the group of people, seeing Kyle getting hands on. “Where is he?” You ask. Clearly not wanting to see or talk to Scott. 

“He’s in that trailer.” He pointed towards the trailer park looking as home. You rolled your eyes and walked up to the doors, knocking loudly as you hear a grumble and the words “come in.” 

Scott was looking over a few pieces of clothing, keeping his eyes locked onto the table as you stepped into the trailer. A part of you wanted to hug him tightly, but the other part wanted to cuss him out and cry. You were the only two in the trailer, looking over at the thousands of clothing that he couldn’t pick from. 

You grab a white oversized shirt, orange sweatshirt and a pair of his baggy jeans, placing them to the side as you looked over at his accessories. “What were you thinking of wearing?” You break the silence first. 

“Was thinking maybe this chain and bracelet.” Your hand brushes against his as the two of you go to pick up the same item. “Sorry.” You mumble quickly. 

Scott shrugs it off and plays it cool as he picks up the white cowboy hat and places it onto his head, a different look for him. He was branching out, picking up new styles from what he does in Suicideboys. 

“I want to say I’m sorry.” He started, catching you by surprise. Scott never apologized; he was stubborn as fuck when it came to him being wrong. In Scott’s eyes he was always right, who was the female in your relationship, huh?

“Doesn’t matter, I’m over it.” You say before you can even stop your words from rolling off the tip of your tongue. Scott wouldn’t like that answer and it felt foreign coming from you as you turned your back to leave the trailer to let him get dressed. 

“What?” His hand enclosed around your right upper arm, making you mentally groan. This is the last thing you wanted to deal with right now. “You don’t give a fuck about us?” 

You let out the biggest laugh as you turn your head to look at him. “That’s rich coming from you. Scott, it’s you who doesn’t give a fuck about us. I have chased you and pleaded and what would you do?” You huffed in annoyance as he turned you to face him. 

“You know I ain’t mean it like that, shawty.” He was doing his little cheesy grin, the one that would get him what he wanted as he bit on his lip. 

“Get changed, you asshole.” You wanted to leave because this always happened, it was always a cycle with Scott, and you were too tired to keep going around like a merry-go-round. 

He pulled your hands towards his belt, lingering your fingers over the cold metal piece. “I think I need some help.” He mumbled that grin still sitting on his lips made you want to slap it off. 

You thought about leaving, but somehow you were in a trance, helping him out of his clothes to change into these new ones. He reached around you, locking the door from behind you before he pressed you up against it. 

His arm outstretched beside your head, resting his hand on the door. “Suck it.” He mumbled, his other hand now holding your chin as his thumb grazed against your lower lip. 

Being the good girl that you were, you slowly got to your knees and with the help of Scott had his pants around his thighs. He was semi-hard, almost waving at you. Your eyes doe-like, stared up at him as you slowly stuck your tongue out. 

You tapped the head of his length against your tongue, you were going to tease him. Scott didn’t deserve to get it how he wanted it, you slowly run the tip of your tongue from the head to the base then back again before spitting at the end. 

He was trying not to moan, watching your every move like a predator stalking its prey. His thumb caressed your cheek as you eased him between your lips, gently nipping your teeth against his sensitive skin. This earned you a small groan from him, this was new, you hardly ever took the upper hand when it came to sex. 

“Y/N, stop teasing.” He grumbled, getting flustered by the lack of contact that he wanted. You peered up to his eyes, seeing the sparkle glistening in his eyes from the lights outside. 

Scott didn’t care much for people hearing and sometimes he didn’t care if anyone saw the two of you fuck, you were his girl and only his. He grabbed your hair in an attempt to get you to do what he asked. The game you were playing with him? Dangerous as hell. 

You pulled your head away, gazing up at him like a deer in the headlights. The look he always loved seeing on you. “Stop fucking playin, Y/N…” He was becoming agitated. 

“Who said I was playing, Scotty?” A small smirk finally appeared on your lips as his hand moved from your face to your hair in seconds, forcing you to be face-to-face with his now hardened length. 

He was throbbing, you could see it with the way it moved like it had a pulse. Your tongue touched the tip, jumping in excitement over a little bit of contact. Your lips finally making the contact that he so longed for, wrapping around his length caused Scott to groan under his breath. 

“Fuck..” Those words weren’t meant to be heard especially by you. He didn’t want you knowing that he had been missing you, his stubbornness stopped him from calling and texting you, refusing to sleep with any girl that threw themselves at him. 

He gripped your hair and slowly began to thrust his hips as he forced you to bob your head against them, taking the upper hand like he always done. You gagged slightly, feeling him hit the back of your throat. It had been awhile, moaning against him before he pulled himself out. 

He forced you up, pinning your back against the door as he roughly pulled your pants and panties off, standing on them to keep them in place so you could take them off without falling over. Scott grabbed your hand as he fell back against the couch, pulling you on top of his lap as he then eased himself inside of you. 

A low groan fell from his lips as he held your hips tightly, allowing you to move when you wanted to. The feeling of him stretching you out caused a soft whimper to burst from your throat, you had missed this feeling of him inside of you. 

You began to slowly rock your hips back and forth, each time you’d build more confidence in each roll forward. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you began to spell ‘coconut’ with your hips. 

“Holy shit… Y/N, you been watching videos or some shit?” His eyes peered from under the hat, licking his lips as he thought about devouring you right there and then.

You laugh under your breath which turned into a moan as Scott began to thrust up inside of you. His hands holding your hips firmly still as his hip movements became faster. His groans were filling the empty spaces as you began to rub circular motions against your clit, you refused to let him be the only one to cum. 

“Fuck… I can’t hold it anymore.” He mumbled, you took the hat from off his head and placed it onto your own. 

Your hips began to move faster against his own movements. Your moans becoming louder as he quickly covered your mouth, grunting as he filled you with his thick, warm load. You whimper under your breath as you feel yourself tighten around him, releasing yourself all over him.  

“Shit…” He chuckled quietly under his breath before placing a couple of soft kisses to your lips. “That was good.” 

You hum in response and slowly slide him out. “What can I say? I missed it.” You placed the hat back on his head and pulled your panties n pants back on before heading outside again. 

Everyone was staring over as you exited the trailer. “What?” You mumbled as Kyle came over. 

“The entire team heard the two of you..” He laughed, acting as if he was embarrassed for us. 

“What can I say? I like to save the horses and ride me a cowboy instead.” 

[maliaelise6]

Ikepri Disney songs

Okay so I like finding songs of one artist or genre and finding one to dedicate to each ikepri character but I keep struggling trying to come up with ikepri characters connecting to (specifically) Disney love songs. I'm cool with leaving the love songs area but here's what I have so far if anyone wants to suggest songs or changes I'd love to hear it :3

Spoilers obv

Jin: Strangers like me from Tarzan - because I think the theme of him learning how to love and actually accept himself is kinda connected to the song. Also I just love him sm

Chevalier: Evermore from Beauty and The Beast (liveaction) as much as I hate live action, this is so good. It screams Chev. He knows Emma is always gonna come back and he doesn't know why but it makes him happy 🥺

Clavis: I won't say I'm in love from Hercules. Is it my favorite song? Yes. Is he my favorite character? Yes. But its so 'Emma being totally in love without realizing it and feeling horribly conflicted about her feelings because of her duty' coded. This is her song to him 1000%

Leon: a whole new world from Aladin. Man. Play the first chapter of his story if you don't already see it lmao. Mr. "Take my hand and I'll show you a whole new world/life" sounding ass

Yves: kiss the girl from the little mermaid. Just the sweetest boy, man. Licht, Jin, Leon, and Rio are DESPERATELY trying to make him make the first move.

Licht: Thats How You Know from Enchanted. Idrk enchanted very well and I don't know licht very well but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just silly Yves and nokto trying to get him to make a move

Nokto: a girl worth fighting for from mulan. This is where the "not a love song" problem comes in. I do think that if you take away the actual context you can make a connection between the beginning when all the guys are talking about what they want, that's just him messing with other women, but when things get serious its him realizing he doesn't actually want any of them, and that he has feelings he doesn't truly understand for Emma. Kinda a reach but I've never been one for accuracies in things like this lmao.

Luke: I see the light from tangled. Omg. "All those days, chasing down a daydream. All those years living in a blur. All that time, never truly seeing things the way they were." HIM REALIZING THAT HE SPENT HIS WHOLE LIFE WITH NOTHING BUT REVENGE AND HATRED AND AHHH. HIM CHANGING FOR EMMA. HIS WHOLE LIFE HAS TO CHANGE AND ITS SCARY BUT FOR THE BEST

Rio: so this is love from Cinderella? I really don't know for him tbh

Sariel: ma belle Evangeline from the princess and the frog. Idk it has old lovers vibes and thats what Sariel gives. Maybe it'd fit better for Rio? Idk I'm iffy on this one

Silvio: colors of the wind from pocahontas. Not exactly love but it fits well. Teaching him that value isn't purely monetary.

Keith: another one I really don't know. I love him sm but I really got nothing man. Please recommend something 🙏

Gilbert: once upon a dream from sleeping beauty. HE WANTS HER TO KNOW HIM. HES BEEN DREAMING OF MEETING HER FOR SO LONG. SUCH A 'we might not know each other now but I knew you once in a place so far back in my mind that it escapes me.'

Please give me ideas for Sariel, Keith, and Rio 😭😭

[megamett44-lover]

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: Based off “Never Say Never” by The Fray

Warnings/Notes: She/her pronouns, profanity, online bullying

Requested? No! (I have been re-watching The Vampire Diaries and forgot how good the soundtrack is. So prepare for more fics based off of songs<3)

Don’t Let Me Go

“Some things we don't talk about

Rather do without and just hold the smile”

Chris and I had a…complicated relationship, to say the least. Growing up together, he had become my best friend, my safe place. The only one I trusted completely with my heart. I guess that was my first mistake.

As we grew older, so did my feelings. They grew into something I couldn’t ever understand. I had thought my feelings had been one sided, but I was wrong. Both of us scared to lose our friendship, neither of us said anything.

“Falling in and out of love

Ashamed and proud of, together all the while”

It was Sophomore year when we had both confessed our feeling for each other. Both delirious at 3:00am, watching some stupid comedy, when his hand slipped into mine under the blanket we shared. Looking up to be met with his blue eyes boring into mine, he smiled.

“I love you, Y/n.” He had whispered softly.

Something we had often said to each other, somehow felt different; this statement from him had the weight of his whole heart on the line. And with all of the courage in my body, I threw my heart into the deep end with his, not caring where it would take us.

“And I love you, Chris.” I whispered, watching his eyes for any glimmer of doubt. Instead, I found the childlike innocence of pure, true love. The kind’ve look someone only has once in their lifetime; first to love, and to be loved.

From then on, we were one. Maybe to our own fault. When we were good, things were great. But…when things were bad, they were awful. Loving each other too much to the point of not loving each other at all; it had become too much.

“You can never say never

While we don't know when

But time and time again

Younger now, than we were before”

“I never want to see you again.” I said through the tears burning my eyes.

“Never say that again, Y/n L/n.” Chris said. “I don’t care if you’re not mine, I will always be yours. No matter what, I can promise you that.”

I was silent, my heart aching from the pain of crying. My knees threatening to buckle from beneath me at any moment, to fall back into Chris’ arms because as much as I hated to admit it, I had felt the same for him, no matter what I said.

But I stood strong, and watched as he walked toward my front door. Before closing it behind him, he turned to look at me one last time.

“My heart is yours, Y/n.” Chris said softly. “It always has been, and always will be.”

“Picture, you're the queen of everything

Far as the eye can see, under your command”

At 19, I had moved with Chris and his brothers to L.A. to pursue a YouTube channel of my own. Having pretty much overnight success, I felt as if I was on top of the world. I had truly made something of myself.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” Chris said, wrapping me in his arms. “You deserve it all, and I will be there with you every step of the way.”

Pulling back from his embrace, I looked into his eyes; the same eyes that looked back at me when we were just 16, confessing our teenage crushes. Now older, they resembled the pride he had, the admiration he held for me; the love we had shared for years, only growing stronger.

“I will be your guardian

When all is crumbling, I'll steady your hand”

“God why did he chose her?”

“She’s just using him for her own gain lmao”

“Idk I think it’s kinda sweet that Chris is doing some charity work”

Reading the comments of Chris’ most recent Instagram post announcing our relationship, had my eyes watering. I was no stranger to the hate, I had been dealing with it since I was featured in one of the Triplets YouTube videos. The speculation that I might be dating one of them, the hate had spread all over my social medias; but this time was ten times worse.

With the confirmation of our love, the internet responded with hate. Burying my face into my knees, I let the tears flow freely, something I had never done. I knew it was pointless to cry, but I couldn’t help it; everyone has their breaking points, and this one was mine.

“Y/n! I’m back from the st-” Chris stops at the sight of me crying on his bedroom floor. “Oh, baby what’s wrong?” He asks, putting a finger under my chin so I revealed my face to him.

“It’s stupid.” I said, wiping my eyes. “Really, I’m fine, just stressed.”

Chris looked at me quizzically before eyeing the phone beside me, Instagram comments still open.

“Oh Y/n,” He said, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. He grabbed my phone, scanning the comments himself, scoffing to himself. “I hope you aren’t actually taking these to heart.”

He picked me up, holding me in his arms. “You, Y/n L/n, are the most beautiful girl in the world, with the most infectious laugh I’ve ever heard. You are everything to me, no matter what anyone says or thinks. I love you so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. So don’t let that bullshit get to you, because that’s all it is, bullshit.”

By this point I’m laughing, my arms wrapped around his neck. “You done?” I asked.

“Do you believe me?” Chris asked. “Because if not, I’m gonna be forced to keep reminding you how much I love you.”

“We're growing apart…”

Navigating our relationship since we had gone public had been hard. With all the retaliation from his fans pouring in, it became hard for me to listen to Chris, opposed to the thousands of others who wanted to see our relationship to break.

“Chris,” I say, standing in the doorway of his room. “I think we need to take a break.”

Looking up from his phone, his eyes wide. He approaches me. “What, why?” He asks, bewildered.

I sigh, fighting the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. “I just…I need time.” I whisper. “This is all so much, it’s taking a toll on me.”

I look up to see a tears in Chris’ eyes. Placing a hand on my cheek, he pulls me closer. “I never want to hurt you.” He says. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be right here waiting, whenever you’re ready.”

“…but we pull it together

Pull it together, together again”

A month later, and I wish I could’ve said I was doing better. Truthfully, I felt as though I was missing a piece of myself, my other half, my best friend.

Typing out a simple: “I need you.” and hitting send was probably one of the best decisions I had ever made in my entire life. In 5 minutes flat, there was a rapid knocking on my door.

Opening the door, I see Chris, soaking wet from the rain that was beating down on my house. Throwing myself outside into his arms, I couldn’t care less about the rain; I was home.

“Don’t let me go.” I whisper.

“Don’t let me go.” He whispered back, holding me tightly.

[theangelcatalogue]

YANDERE MANDY HEADCANONS! || ☆!

⭑ Romantic!

⭑ Gender Neutral!

⭑ Characther and Fandom: Mandy - Totally Spies

⭑ TW: POSSESIVE BEHAVIOR, YANDERE/YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MANIPULATIVE BEHAVIOR, BULLYING, DELUSIONAL BEHAVIOR, GUILTY TRIP, OBSSESIVE BEHAVIOR, OUT OF CHARACTHER(?), BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR AND MADE BY A MINOR!!! SKIP THIS IF YOU WANT!! PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING

★ -> Mandy is manipulative, jealous, controlling, possesive, attention seeker and maybe flirty and delusional? Anyways she is a pain in the ass

☆ -> Let's start with jealous, she is jealous of most people you talk to! God help you if you are Clover's, Alex's and Sam's friend

" Y/N!!! HOW MANY TIME I SAID TO NOT TALK AND WALK WITH THESE LOSERS!?!? "

★ -> Yeah, for her any friend of yours, maybe anyone who talks to you but it's not her, it's a loser

☆ -> Attention seeker, maybe kinda delusional and clingy, she wants you to praise her and hang out with her most of the time, she carrys you around like some toy and always talk with you about everything, and sometimes she talks bad about people you talk to

★ -> And when you say to her to stop, she always looks confused like she did nothing wrong or says to you

" OH??? IF YOU LIKE THESE LOSERS SOOO MUCH! GO TALK TO THEM! "

" Yeah? Okay! " *Walking away*

" WAIT COME BACK- "

☆ -> She calls you for so many dates and random hang outs that most of your time in school and out of school, Mandy is with you!

★ -> If any boy or girl haves a crush on you, she will make sure to humiliate that person, and everytime you and her(In case Mandy) are talking and plan to hang out, Mandy will look at that person that haves a crush on you with a smirk, like some sort of villain

☆ -> Of course she does that while you not looking or when you in the place, even if you got her doing that, she will make it again and make sure you don't got her(Again...)

" You really think Y/N really likes you? That they would hang out with you!? OMG THAT'S FUNNY!!! "

★ -> She keeps you away of your friends, sometimes she just go where you and your friends are and just leave with you

☆ -> And when you ask why she is doing that, she just give some excuse or just says something like

" Look Y/N! You don't understand! Im just doing because i want the best for you! I love you and you know that right? "

★ -> Resume: guilty trip and manipulation

☆ -> And she even uses her two friends(that it don't remember the name-) to help her and convice her, of course one of them already tried to talk to Mandy about this behavior

" Mandy don't you think you going...to far? "

" What!? Of course not! Why? Do you think i am crazy or something!? "

" No i just- "

" So do what i asked you to! "

★ -> She always tries to impress you cause guess what? Yeah she wants your attention, she just loves it when you praise her

☆ -> And when you not impressed or maybe even stand up by yourself, she gets angry and confused, you don't love her!? You not impressed!? She is pretty, rich, (don't) haves a wonderful personality, everyone loves her and finds her amazing!

★ -> She won't give up of you! She always got what she wants!

☆ -> And she wants you!

★ -> And it will have a point that she won't care anymore if you hate her!

☆ -> Love her or Hate her

★ ->  Both are in hers favor

☆ -> if you love her, she will always be in your heart!

★ -> if you hate her, she will always be in your mind

✦ - Surprise songs! -> 🍬 🕶 👯‍♀️

✦ - NOTES!!

✮ SORRY THIS WAS TO SHORT!!! TRYING TO WRITE WITH CREATIVE BLOCK AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH JSKKSKWKWKLQPQPWSHSHSIWOWKSKSKSKKSKALSKSKSKAKOA ✮

✮ I love Totally Spies ✮

✮ Idk what to say, just a random hc ✮

✮ Who loved the Shakespeare quote??? ✮

✮ Anways my birthday is close :3 ✮

✮ *Sends a virtual hug for you* Ily you guys! Ty for reading <3

[euroquision]

No, Iceland is not up to "dirty political tricks" and neither is Bashar Murad

Hey lovely people, spirits, souls, and ghouls of Tumblr! To those of you who don't follow me on TikTok, there's a video I made just yesterday concerning Iceland (the lil Eurovision Country that Could!), Israel, a certain Irish TikTok-er with impressively horrible media literacy, and our dearest friend Bashar Murad. If you're not on TikTok, that's wonderful and dear god you don't need to subject yourself to that app. Instead, I wanted to make a post that explains what's going on, what's being said, and why one (1) Palestinian is not responsible for the aforementioned "dirty" political tricks.

If you're following Eurovision or just Bashar Murad himself, consider giving this a read.

So let's begin! First: who's calling Bashar Murad/Iceland "dirty"? Where am I getting that word from and why is it in quotes? That's because: it IS a quote! Buck wild, I know. This is a quote from the TikTok account AllThingsAdam.ie, run by the Irish Eurovision...fan? Podcast-haver? Idk, I'm not saying "journalist" because if I wanted to have a laugh, I would just watch the Unicorn edit I made a couple months ago. Did I share that here yet? Just in case, here it is:

Never fails to make me smile. Great edit, Me! Anyway, back on topic: Adam McCallig is a person with a TikTok account that has half a million followers, he has a podcast where he's interviewed Eurovision and NF artists, so he's definitely a "known figure" to a certain point. I can't sit here and say he's some random troll, y'know? So, in a TikTok that has since been deleted from his page, he accuses Iceland of being up to "dirty political Eurovision 2024 tricks." I created a TikTok where I briefly show this video, and here's a link to that! You can watch that for my condensed version of everything I'm talking about here, but this Tumblr post is for those who like reading what I have to say in longer form. Here's that video:

Since Adam's video is now "gone," I will do my best and summarize what he stated with whatever journalistic integrity I have. First: you hear him open the video with the word "dirty." So no one can say I'm putting words in his mouth -- no no, these are lifted from the source material, honey. Next, he goes on to claim that Bashar "has no connection to Iceland whatsoever." As much as Adam wants this to be true, it just...isn't?? Like, let's ignore Bashar's longtime collaborations with HATARI. Instead, let's look at him literally performing on the Songvakeppnin stage in the 2020 NF season:

Additionally, the claim "Bashar has no connection to Iceland" rings very hollow not only when we know this claim is false, but it's not one Adam brings up about the many artists trying to represent a country other than their own in the 2024 NF season. Adam says he "knows that countries can let artists from whatever country represent them," but he hasn't made any videos about Marcus & Martinus (Norwegian) competing in Sweden's National Final. Tali (Israeli-born) is representing Luxembourg this year, and MEGARA (Spanish) are representing San Marino. "Foreign" artists representing any country in ESC is FAR from new, and if it were a punishable offense, Celine Dion would just have to settle for being Canadian.

However, as soon as Bashar Murad takes the stage and the colors of the Palestinian flag are visible, Adam is ready to take to TikTok and say "dirty political tricks" are at play -- before deleting it later, like I mentioned. In fact, not only did he delete it! Mere hours before writing this post, I used my second TT account to peep his page and he posted a video saying "One of these four songs should represent Iceland in Eurovision!" and showed snippets of four songs competing in the Icelandic NF Grand Finale, which takes place on Saturday the 2nd of March. However: there aren't four songs competing to win for Iceland. There's five. Which four did he show? The fours songs that AREN'T Bashar Murad. And yet, he's the one being dirty in all this? Adam, sweetie, the dirty call is coming from inside the dirty house.

Now, you might wonder if Adam has kept this kind of energy when talking about Israel's Eurovision participation, which at time of writing is still very much up in the air. But thing is: he doesn't. At least, not really. Adam has posted a video condemning the alleged song that Israel is trying to submit to Eurovision titled "October Rain." I won't go too deep into that -- please follow @/IsraelBreaksRules on Twitter for more details on this!! But basically, what Adam is attempting to do is play some sort of "political centrist" take on Eurovision, while simultaneously trying to say "Keep politics OUT of Eurovision!!" And at the end of his deleted video, Adam claimed that while "what happened in Gaza is terrible," Iceland is just as guilty for playing political tricks as Israel might be, and Bashar Murad's participation is just as bad.

Two things wrong with that statement, Adam. One: It's not what "happened" in Gaza. It's not past tense. It's on-going. It hasn't stopped. That's actually -- believe it or not -- WHY WE'RE STILL HERE. And two: JUST AS BAD?? REALLY??

If you watched my TikTok response that I shared the link to, you'll have seen the evidence I shared. But I wanna share them again just so you all can clearly see how the "political tricks" at play this year are not on the part of Iceland, nor would they be "just as bad." Where do we begin? Maybe we could begin with the fact that "Wild West," Bashar's song, has been spammed with negative reviews by anti-Palestinian ESC fans. This is mathematically observable when you notice "Wild West" has roughly THREE TIMES as many reviews as the other Icelandic NF songs on EurovisionWorld.com. You can check them out here and see the numbers yourself.

But it doesn't stop at bad reviews. Israeli ESC fans have begun a campaign to mass vote against Bashar, specifically for Hera Bjork, one of the four other competitors in Iceland's final on Saturday. This is really funny to me though because if Bashar doesn't win, it should totally be Sigga Ozk, right? GO TIFFANY!!! Anyway, I digress. A link to an article covering this voting campaign can be found here!

Not only is Bashar facing backlash, hate, and organized efforts AGAINST his participation, Israel is funneling money and resources into Facebook ads that look like this, claiming to shape the narrative:

...as well as filming "comedy" "sketches" like this "song" called...

*deep existential sigh* "Jews Pua" Link to that video here, if you can stand three minutes of awful propaganda containing just the right combination of shitty, easy rhymes and enough pinkwashing to put "Cops at Pride!" to shame. All of this should make it VERY clear to anyone observing this situation as a whole that the political tricks at play are NOT being done equally from everyone involved. Dare I boldly say: this shit is INCREDIBLY ONE-SIDED and we need to remind ourselves of the awful reality that is Israel's access to the money, ability, and audience of their "dirty political tricks" more so than Bashar Murad or Iceland ever could.

Lastly, let's just acknowledge the racism-shaped elephant in the room. Now, I as a white American am not here to play "Racism Police." That will never be the case. What I am about to say applies to the greater conversation, and it's not just an "Adam" problem. It's a problem we see happen when one (1) Palestinian decides to exist and write a song, and the way the world has been built around us conditions us to see that and scream "dirty political trickery afoot!!" Truly, ask yourself is this is "equal" in any way shape or form, as Adam posited. Adam and people like him will treat Iceland and Israel as equal, but that doesn't automatically make them "equal."

We are living in a world where Israel is currently being sued for genocide. That is not an exaggeration, it's just something we can all see and talk about. Israel is a country that has the money, platform, and bias of the most powerful countries of the world to not be held to the same standards of responsibility for the horrible things they're doing, nor is my own country being properly held accountable for PAYING for these things they're doing. Race is something used as a tool to identify oppressed peoples not just because it's discriminatory, but it tells people who aren't part of that group that people like Bashar Murad are simply political just by existing. Nowhere does Adam mention that Bashar and his song "Wild West" are about his journey as an artist having to leave his home and travel thousands of miles to the global "west" to even have a chance of representing Iceland (not Palestine, not Gaza, just Iceland) in Eurovision while the country responsible for the death of his people are facing MUCH less scrutiny from the Eurovision powers that be, let alone Irish TikTok accounts with re: shitty media literacy skills.

My final message to you is this: if you're someone paying attention to Eurovision and you maybe feel confused or overwhelmed by Israel, Iceland, Bashar, etc. etc. etc., here's what I want to tell you:

This is not an equal game. Iceland/Bashar are nowhere near on the same level as Israel and the money/access they have to GLOBAL levels of propaganda. Israel, in fact, verbally confirms how they want to use Eurovision to "shape the narrative" which is far dirtier, far more political than just the song "Wild West." Moreover, thinking that treating Eurovision as apolitical or that EVERYONE deserves the SAME level of EQUAL scrutiny only helps Israel at the end of the day. The things they've done, are doing, and hope to do are representative of tens of thousands of people they've killed in the last few months alone. Would you genuinely look at Bashar Murad trying to represent Iceland and say "Yep, these two things are the same"? My hope is that you wouldn't, but people like Adam clearly do.

Don't be like Adam. Don't play this weak-ass centrism card that ultimately helps no one and just makes it easier for people to shift blame, suspicion, or anger towards Bashar Murad. This is not the fight being had right now, and don't let it waste your time. Focus on what and who matters, which is obviously: the country doing genocide and wants us all to be chill with that.

PS. As a personal recommendation, "Wild West" and "Into the Atmosphere" are my two favs to win for Iceland, so def go gives those a stream. And while you're at it, let Bashar himself take you on a visual journey that might help you understand his message a bit better.

Much love you all. Thank you for being here. EuroQuision out.

[jayenator565]

My Tanthamore Comfort Fics

We were talking about comfort fics in the Tanthamore discord and I realized I have too many for a normal sized reply, so here's a tumblr post instead. In no particular order i've reread these fics...maybe too many times.

I'm just gonna list em by author cause that's easier. Keep in mind we may have different definitions of the word comfort.

@commanderbuffy

650 ft2 - Ok so like envision these girls have been best friends for forever and they've been secretly pining for ages, no sense of personal space, they can read eachother like books AND they were roommates!

The Tanthamore Affair - This fic has everything, one bed, fake dating, celeb au, the fic that changed the meaning of a certain emoji and all the tropes you could want really

@badlance

We've got to find other ways to make it together - this one line says all you need to know

"It is the greatest irony of Jade Claymore’s life to be a certified genius who is nevertheless in love with an idiot."

@spybrarian

More Than Just Survival - as far as 5+1 fics go this one has me in a CHOKEHOLD

I scream at your chest for as long as I must

one night at the start of the end of the world

@ilovemyships (i think you need an AO3 account to read these gems)

you won't believe it (they think we're lovers)

don't wanna pressure (but friends don't kiss friends)

@acre-of-wheat - Acre's way with words should be studied

Network Connectivity Issues - I have never related to a character more than I relate to this Jade

The Dark

The Bite

@jlmichigan

Out of the Cuirass - one of the first tanthamore fics I ever read actually and I still come back to it every so often

@stbot

lay down your armor (come lie bare with me) - saintbot has a catalogue lemme tell ya but this one for tanthamore is just so heartwarming

@overkill-max

Escaping Fate - the Kit runs away fic that everyone needs

Dil3mma (idk their tumblr right now sorry)

A Sword And A Shield (And Everything In Between)

Deja-Brew - the loveliest coffee shop one shot

Jad3dEt3rnal (idk if they have a tumblr either)

This Daydream is Dangerous - cuddly vampire Jade, need I say more?

ana_chronistic (idk if they have a tumblr either x3)

Oops. I proposed. - fake dating x 100, fake proposal it's like fake dating to the next level and I love the growth of communication and pacing in this.

@barmaid-anon

do what you feel now

you want a good girl that does bad things (to you)

fulfill (an obligation) or keep (an arrangement)

we simply don't have time to unpack why these are comfort fics, we're just going to accept it and keep going.

@thecsquirrel

Sword and Shield - I love this look at what post S1 life could have been like for the gang, revisiting Nockmaar, seeing Galladoorn, getting into the evil Elora storyline with Graydon, spending more time with the Nelwyn and in the Wildwood it's just everything

@wigster07

What a pleasant surprise - a fic of one of my other comfort fics, I know it's like fic-ception in the best way possible. If you liked Tanthamore Affair I have an inkling this will be right up your alley

@isabrella @jade-claymore @allthefakepeople @resurrecho

those rumors they have big teeth - BAND AU need I say more? I don't need to but i'm going to, this fic has everything Kit and Jade in a band, Kit's leather pants, gay-ifying songs, MAMA MIA, totally gay best friends who have basically been dating for years but won't admit to it, Jade gets to be a bit problematic as a treat, inner band fighting, what more can you want?

@swashbucklery

meet you where the spirit meets the bones (tanthamore 90s werewolf au) - its a SERIES of these repressed gay DORKS and they're werewolves, there's such a charming way to how this author writes them I legit can't even with these two gays

@onlyshestandsthere

these walls come tumbling down - look, we don't have time to unpack why there's so many were-related supernatural esque fics on my comfort list and I know this is only 2 chapters in but I can already feel the comfort in all the hurt ok I dont even have to wait I already know i'm gonna be rereading this like monthly

I'm gonna have to stop there even though I know i'm still missing some! If someone asked me what my favorites are we'd be here all day XD

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hey, hope you're doing well. Idk how to to do this cause I haven't ever made a request but I saw your requests are open (if I'm not mistaken, if I am sorry to bother), but what do you think about a Oneshot from Grace's POV. Her thinking Tommy will still be inlove with her but he's moved on and she's perceiving everything between them.

Its okay if you can't but I'm curious. Love you're writing.

Hey Love,

Thanks for waiting so long. Hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Grace being Grace

“A martini please” She batted her eyelashes enjoying running up a tab that was going to be paid for by someone else. After some research, she was happy to find that Tommy Shelby would be attending this club, and the stars aligned in her favor as her husband was tied up at a work thing. Normally he was gone for most of the night and even if he got home early, his feelings were soon to be irrelevant to her. 

Grace wanted two things. Tommy Shelby, and his children. Her current marriage had proved that there was only one man for her and he was a half hour late to this club. She could get whatever she wanted with him now, whispers of his name and accomplishments were reaching as far as America. He was slowly taking over like she knew he would deep down. 

Now all she needed was a baby and her spot next to him would be cemented. This wasn't going to be a difficult task knowing how broken he was when she found him, he was unlikely to be recovered from her departure from his life. 

In this red dress, he was bound to be all over her. She took a large sip of her martini. 

A large group entered the club and she knew immediately that it must be the Shelbys. They never did classy as well as they thought they did. 

She sat looking at her drink on the bar, she wanted him to find her.

There were lots of laughs and cheers over the music. Arthur came over and asked the bartender for bottles of whiskey for the table. 

“Big celebration tonight, boy!” He boomed completely oblivious to her presence. He took the bottles out of view and she wondered what they were so happy about. 

The night dragged on and finally, she allowed herself a peak at the corner of the club. It was dim and the music was loud but still, she could see him there with a woman tucked under his arm. 

He was leaning back with a cigarette in his hand, the other resting on your shoulder. You weren't anything remarkable. Looking at John’s wife sitting next to you it was obvious the woman helped you with your makeup. Your dress was nice but not anything like hers. Certainly too plain for such a club or event. 

Pathetic. 

Tommy would notice soon enough and make his way over. Then she would have the pleasure of watching you crumble under the unavoidable weight of his lack of loyalty. She gave a coy smile at the thought and lit a cigarette. 

You weren't a threat in the slightest so she turned to face the family, leaning back on the bar. She kept her posture loose and inviting, waiting for his eyes to find her. 

Instead, he let out a laugh at something you’d said. He pulled your face close to his and placed a kiss to the top of your head. Esme picked up your hand and was whispering something to you that made your cheeks go crimson. Obviously, you’d embarrassed yourself so badly that even Tommy was laughing at the girl.

You shook your head and then Esme was pulling you out of your booth and onto the dance floor. She watched with curiosity. Why would you dance with her and not Tommy? 

You both laughed loudly as you danced around in the crowd. You both looked ridiculous but Tommy had his gaze on you as he and John talked about something. After the song ended you both piled into the table. Climbing back into the booth, Tommy’s hands prevented you from moving past him. Keeping you there on his lap. 

Tommy raised the bottle. 

“To the world's best accountant!” He said loudly and the family let out a big cheer. 

You and Esme were clearly drunk as the woman poured whiskey into your open mouth right from the bottle. More laughs erupted. 

She’d had enough waiting but that’s when Polly caught her eye. The woman stared at her with a cocky glare that put her off. The only way to get Tommy’s attention would be to go over there and talk to him. Clearly, he hadn’t seen her sitting here. 

Polly turned her attention to Tommy and mouthed her name. She watched to see his body language change. The way you would slip from his grasp. How he would walk over here and leave with her on his arm. 

But he didn't move. His eyes went back to your face listening to what sounded like a story about an exam. Just waiting for the story to be over, then he would come. 

Time dragged on, another martini. 

You got up from his lap and he stood up, his hand finding your low back and guiding you toward the balconies. This would be as good as it gets. 

Grace got up from the bar and made her way to the balcony. 

_________________________________________________________

You stood there looking up at Tommy, his eyes were so proud. Weeks of studying and worrying and yet you passed all your university classes. You delighted in his attention as the cold air wrapped around you. 

The balcony door opened to show, who Esme had whispered was Tommy’s Ex. Pale yellow hair, and a glossy red dress. She was older than you in more ways than one. She looked like she was carrying a great burden. 

“Tommy can we talk.” Her Irish accent was soft and her words thick with sadness. You almost felt sorry for her, you would have if she hadn't betrayed the family and fucked Tommy up so badly. 

“Sure.” He said cooly, his hand on your waist tightened to keep you in place at his side.

“Alone?” 

“Nah, she’s my better half. What can we help you with?” 

“I’ll be in London for a while. I thought maybe we could talk about what happened, things are complicated right now -” She let her words trail off and you knew in your gut this was some type of act. 

“I would invite you for dinner but we’re leaving on a trip tomorrow. Such bad timing.” You said politely. She never looked at you, even when you spoke. Her eyes were fixated on him in a way that made you want to throw her over the balcony. 

“Pity,” Tommy said. “Enjoy your time in London.” 

She looked even more defeated, a large contrast to the glare she was giving you from across the club all night. She handed Tommy a piece of paper before leaving, giving him a nod. 

“The fuck was that about?” you whispered. You took the paper and opened it. All it had was her accommodations in London. 

“Ah.” She expected him to drop me off at home before falling back into her arms. 

“Do I need to worry?” You said in a coy tone. 

“Not in the slightest.” He said pulling you into an embrace. Esme and John came out with eyes full of questions. You gave the paper to Esme. 

“What is she expecting a foursome?” She made a sound of disgust before crumpling the paper and leaving it in the ashtray. 

As you drank and partied to celebrate your success, you knew she was back in her room pacing. The faith in her ability to hold Tommy down wearing away hour by hour.

[liljakonvalj]

I watched the Great Mouse Detective tonight and as someone who loves this movie, here's some of my thoughts:

First of all and this cannot be overstated: Best. Sherlock. Holmes. Adaptation.

I was today years old when i discovered that Olivia and her dad are Scottish (which explains her father talking about catching a train at the end of the movie)

(I grew up with the swedish vhs and watched it in english for the first time today. in swedish none of the character's have any particular dialect )

The aesthetic of Victorian human London but with mice having a miniature society mirroring it?? Love that!!

Despite Basil being the titular character and being the main character in so far that he's the one going on a personal journey and change through the movie- Dawson is the POV character for most of the movie which I find interesting

The transitions when Basil tells them about Ratigan and then showing the audience what he's up to and then back to Basil's apartment are stellar

All the songs are sung in universe - I think this is the only disney movie to do this??

And two of them sung by the villain?! Outstanding move

(It should be mentioned that the remaining song was sung by sexy, stripper mice in a bar)

The heroes drink alcohol, get drugged, enjoy a strip tease and accidentaly causes a bar fight all in the same scene

Yes, the toy store was both entrancing and scary to me as a child. The first doll they see when they enter? That doll whose face smashes and nearly kills Basil and Watson? The toys from which Fidget steals the mechanics? All super terrifying

Ratigan is the only character to have a human-like five-fingered hand, all the others have standard animated four-fingered hands

Ratigan mention a that he thought basil would be 15 minutes quicker to find his lair - which he uses to taunt his enemy but it also means he cannot be there to observe his machine killing his captives. That gives them the opportunity to escape unseen. If Basil and Dawson hadn't been late they probably wouldn't have survived, just saying

The clock tower sequence!! I actually clapped when it started

The cogwheels were computer animated while the mice were drawn by hand - which makes for a really dynamic moving camera

(The man who talked about this in the extras were so enthusiastic about this. Love that for him)

Speaking of moving camera - I greatly enjoyed the camera movement when Rattigan jumped over the citizens to reach the balcony with Olivia and the bat after his plan had been foiled at Buckingham palace. It was really fluent and full of angles

Back to the clocktower: when Ratigan snaps and you can see the angry pen strokes?? They simply don't make movies like this anymore

That was of course very scary too as a child

The final battle outside on the clock hands? Give this movie all awards !!

When Basil comes cycling on that little propeller thing? Link in Tears of the kingdom wishes he could do that

In the extras someone mentioned that they'd made extensive backstories of all the characters: why Rattigan became evil, how it was for Basil to grow up so smart etc. And i desperately want to read that

I know no one cares about the swedish voice actors but I found the different performances of both Basil and Rattigan interesting. I know Vincent Price is much beloved as Ratigan (justly so) but idk if it is nostalgia speaking but I think swedish Ratigan really held up. There were actually some lines that I knew by heart in swedish where the delivery was preferable to the English one for me. After looking it up i saw that the swedish VA is an opera singer (base) which really isn't a surprise given his performance. Basil's voices were really similar normally (so similar I didn't hear the change when I switched between languages - which i did one time to freshen up the swedish voices) but the VA in swedish goes up in falsetto quite often which gives a quite manic impression. Swedish!Basil's sanity is hung by a thread in his restless pursuit of his arch nemesis - which makes his devastation when Ratigan bests him more believable imo. English!Basil is much more a proper, brittish gentleman throughout. All performances were great, I just found the differences interesting.

I have some Core visuals from this movie living rent free in my mind since childhood which are: when Basil compares the two bullets, the closeups as Fidget jumps out at the audience, when Dawson pulls out the glass door with his finger, Ratigan squishing Olivia's doll, Basils machine when analyzing the paper, when Toby makes a stair out of his ear, that flag/balloon/matchbox contraption they used to chase Ratigan at the end, the end fight on the clock arms.

Did i miss your favourite part of the movie? Any core memories from this movie for you?