#do I even sound coherent rn I have no clue

[sunnybunnybabs]

FTFO chapter 40, spoilers

HOW IS EVERYONE DOING ON THIS FINE DAY gonna throw up

From themoment I read the title I

I just knew

I'm so glad Nightmare has been saved n the OT has been repaired!!!

YELLING AND SOBBING WHATTHHEFUCK WAHSSTHATH ENDJINGG

ImgonnaSCREAMandSOBandCRYandTHROWUP I'm shAKING as I type this WHATTHEFUCJ

When I SAID INK WAS GONNA LOSE A LEG FROM THE BOMB THIS WAS NOT WHAT I WAS ENVISIONING WHAT TNE H FCUK

DEATH GRIP ON THE NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS THIS IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING ME GOING RN WHAYTHE HOLTSHIT

IwANTXGASTEE DEAADDDDD I WANT HI M DEAD AND GONNNNEDEAAAADDDD

[dollfacefantasy]

I want RE6 leon to fuck me until I pass out.

only a little drabble cause i'm having a hard time focusing rn but here you are cause this is real asf <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, overstimulation

You weren't sure what it was about tonight, or more specifically, what was up with Leon tonight. The past couple days he'd been clingier with normal, which was totally fine by you. You'd rather have him attached to your side than barely able to speak to you as was the case after a hard mission or a night when he had a bad dream.

But the clingy he'd been over the past couple days wasn't his normal clingy. It wasn't a hand constantly on your waist or swarms of gentle kisses landing at your hair line. A more accurate word to describe this would be need.

He was giving you tons of kisses, but they weren't gentle. They were open mouthed and sloppy up and down the side of your throat. His hands lingered on your body but not in a protective or loving manner. They groped and squeezed. The mere feeling of being so desired gave you the smallest spark of pleasure in your belly, but his desire for you nearly had burnt through an entire fuse.

It came no surprise to you that in the evening, his hands were snaking beneath your clothing, maneuvering your limbs around as if they belonged to a doll.

Needy kisses continued all along your throat and collar bone. Little murmurs of "just wanna feel you, baby" and "need to be inside that sweet little pussy" drifted up to your ears. Your fingers found his hair and gave it a little tug, a switch putting him into a state of no return.

Now his hand was wrapped around your throat. Your legs were bent over his shoulder. He was as deep inside you as physically possible without causing you an injury. You'd cum a few times already, pussy sore and aching but still sucking him like he was essential to your survival.

"Leon, fuck!" you cry out as his shaft continues sliding in and out of you raw, massaging all the pleasure spots that drove you wild.

He groans into the crook of your neck, biting at the skin as a way to not lose it. He didn't really know what was going on either. His stomach was doing flips at every tiny whimper you made, and his heart was locking up each time your walls fluttered around him.

"I know, honey. Just a little more. I'm almost done. I swear," he murmurs thoughtlessly.

The words were simply tools of placation. Another method to keep him safe and secure where he needed to be, balls deep inside of you.

Your back arches as much as it can in this position, and you whine like a desperate animal.

"That's my girl. I know, baby, I know. You're such a good girl, always giving me what I need," he coos in a strained tone.

His hips have a mind of their own, you know this well by now. You can feel them beginning to move like they're possessed. No regard for your pleasure, and in a way, almost no regard for his. They move purely with the drive to claim you. The deep primal part of him that ached to own you.

Your thighs quiver violently and the ability to speak with any sort of coherence is ripped away from you. It's all so much, and it's been so much for however long he's been drilling into you.

The noises coming from where the two of you connect sound throughout the room, wet and lewd. Unbridled and desperate.

You cum again at some point, but he's still fucking going. He's whimpering almost as if he's in pain. From what you can see with you're fading vision, his eyes are screwed shut and his breaths are coming out in ragged puffs.

"Baby, Jesus, I... ah- oh fuck, baby, my baby," he mumbles against your skin.

The bed below you feels as if it's on fire. Your skin burns with absolute overstimulation. Your head feels cased in a foggy container of lust. You aren't sure when it happens, but somewhere in the middle of all this, you pass out.

You're gone for a good ten seconds, head lolled back, eyes vacant, mouth parted and silent.

That's what clues Leon in that something's up. Your passionate mewls for him had abruptly faded to nothing. The hands clawing at his back had dropped away in favor of being limp on the mattress.

He pulls his head back, eyes widening when he sees your incapacitated state. But he can't stop moving his fucking hips. He so can't stop that the words "baby are you ok?" get tangled up into a whiny, humiliating groan that he's happy you most likely won't remember.

As you come to again, he cums inside of you. He throws his head back with a silent moan. Your gaze shows your disorientation but also the pleasure still coursing through you. He fucks that cum into you like it's his mission, and when he's done, you're pretty sure he's the one passed out now.

[operation-steal-chans-laptop]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT81qXwoo/

i- i- i- pls i'm crumbling. babe i need at least a drabble on this pretty please im losing it. like would channie actually sound like that? bro im actually combusting rn.

Ok but he would actually sound like that, especially that last groan?!?!?!!? I feel like in general, his moans would be really breathy? Also I have no clue if this drabble will satisfy you, but it’s all I could come up with right now <3

“Chirstopher” you try to warn, but instead of your tone coming out stern, it comes out more as a whine “what's wrong, love?” Chan walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest while feigning worry with his words.

“You need to stop doing that,” you murmur. Chan smiles in return, trying everything in his power to contain his giggles. “I have no clue what you're talking about,” he whispers, letting his breath linger on your neck.

“The noises you were making,” you know that he knew what he was doing, especially by the way he was looking at you while making those sinful sounds. “Did you not like my little performance?” Chan acts so casually about the whole situation all while you're practically a puddle in his arms, it's so annoying.

“it doesn't matter if I liked it or not,” you rebuttal. “I think it does,” Chan lowers his voice by an octave as he slides a hand under your shirt. “n-not here,” your eyes shoot to the ground in embarrassment, your heart now nearly beating out of your chest.

“Should I take you somewhere private? Give a special show just for you?” You go quiet, your breath catching in your throat and your brain running too fast to form a coherent thought. Before you can even process everything, the words “yes please” slip past your pretty lips, leaving chan to finally take control.

[the-afterhoursgoodgirl]

i'm someone else, my love. i'm your stalker from your other blog, i had no idea you could be so naughty. it turns me on knowing you have this side to you. i ought to spank you and make you count every single one and if you mess up, we'll have to start again. maybe i'll strap a vibe to your clit while i fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours, encouraging you to take more. you look so pretty with a cock deep in your mouth and your cunt ❤

but i recently have this overwhelming urge to fuck you senseless. i wanna rip open whatever you're wearing and take you then and there, hearing your pretty sounds as i stretch you open. how'd you look taking mommys big strap, how gorgeous you'd be sitting on it. i know it hurts baby but you're doing so well, don't worry i'm gonna train you to take bigger ones. my little pet drooling at the sight of my strap.

i'm gonna make you feel so full, stretched to your limit. maybe even for fun i'll overstimulate you to the point of tears. i wonder which you'll like more, how many ruined orgasms can you take or how many times can you cum? you'd taste so sweet, i'd have to try you. maybe fingering you while i do so, toying with your ass kissing and leaving marks across your thighs and stomach. so you know who you belong to.

you just lay down like the perfect princess you are and let mommy do all the hard work. there won't be a single coherent thought in your head. nothing but how good it feels and how you need more. you just let me fuck you nice and deep into the mattress

i would go on but i don't want to scare you off ;) i'll be thinking of you today baby. make sure you eat some food and drink some water today.

my pretty girl <3 -❤ (i'll sign off with this so you know its me ;) mwah xx)

oh. OH. i am so fucking flustered rn😵‍💫🐱🦋🦋🦋

you’ve found my kinky side & you stayed?!! 👀👀 i don’t have the slightest clue who you could be but i am god damn drooling over this ask 😩😩😵‍💫

i would love to be your plaything 🥺🥺 please use me, please god use me😭 im so touch starved you could do anything you want :((( anything, i promise. i have a naughty side but i’ll listen to you, i promise i’ll be a good girl 🥺 im in the bath rn & fuck my brain has gone blank 😵‍💫 please please come back 🥺 i want you so bad 🥺

you could never scare me away, ever. i have my inbox open for you to say anything you want to to me 😩 I am yours, mommy 🥺

and if you keep talking like this idk what I’m gonna do because i’m already going to need 3-4 business days to process this 😮‍💨

[andypantsx3]

say the word and you know i’ll follow

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 3,262 words

summary: While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

(A smutty oneshot sequel to my fic if i could keep cool.)

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, smut

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, cunnilingus, light bondage

notes: Also cross-posted on my AO3! The manga really has me all in my Todo feels rn but I don't wanna write a whole other fic before I finish the Hawks one, so please have this fluffy smutty one shot as a compromise. It likely won’t make sense unless you’ve read if i could keep cool first, so please check it out if you have the time!

It was sweltering when you stepped outside to make your way to Shouto’s apartment.

A thin film of sweat immediately began to build wherever your skin pressed against the box you carried, and the sun beat down furiously on the crown of your head. You instantly started to second guess your choice to take the train, wondering how dumb of a move it had been to decline an alternative means of transit. It was going to be like being packed into a sardine can and roasted over a hot stove.

Shouto had offered to send an agency car, but there were only so many more times you were going to make the trip from your crumbling student apartment to his place, and you had wanted to make the most of it. You didn’t even really need to bring boxes over just yet--as Shouto had hired a moving company to take care of everything next week--but you didn’t want to lose anything that was inside this one. This one held all your most treasured items--keepsakes from your friends, a pressed white tulip, and all the gifts Shouto had ever given you (minus, of course, the vegetables).

Steeling yourself for an uncomfortable twenty minutes, you set off towards the station, weaving through the tired crowds of people who looked just as sun-weary as you. Thankfully, with a hat over your face and a box you could shift to obscure your features, very few people seemed to recognize you as you did so.

A lot of the media attention surrounding your mishap a year ago had died down, and you had been good about keeping your relationship mostly private, so you weren’t exactly a household name to most people. But there were enough twitter-savvy teens and meme-literate college students that you were sometimes recognized as you went about your daily life.

This time, you were only eyed curiously by one pair of teenage girls as they bundled into the train car across from you, but they didn’t say anything to you, didn’t ask you to reenact the most embarrassing five seconds of your entire life into their phones, as many often did. The box hid you from the rest of the train car, and no one else seemed to take interest in your presence.

After exiting the train at downtown, you made it to Shouto’s building in record time, all but rocket-fueled by your desire to get out of the hot sun. The security team in the lobby of his building gave you friendly nods as you passed, one of them graciously pressing the button for the elevator so you didn’t have to fumble around your box.

You thanked her, making your way into the elevator and elbowing the button for Shouto’s floor. The elevator was even cooler than the lobby, and you shivered in delight as the frigid chill of air conditioning washed over you. God, this building was so fucking nice compared to yours. You were going to be spoiled as fuck once you lived here.

You made it to Shouto’s floor without incident, though digging in your bag for your keys was impossible at the moment, so you knocked on his door as firmly as you could manage with the box still balanced in your arms.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the door swung open and Shouto stood there, grinning at you.

His hair still looked a little damp from a recent shower, and he was wearing a dark button up over a soft tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He looked unbearably good, as boyishly handsome as ever, and your heart gave an embarrassing little stutter, like it always did whenever you saw him. You suspected it was always going to be like that, no matter how long the two of you had been dating.

Shouto’s eyebrows went up as he considered the box in your arms. That heterochromatic gaze picked over you curiously, expression going carefully blank, like it typically did when he was up to some mischief. And then, after a long moment, he spoke.

“You’re not wearing the scarf,” he said, sounding upset.

You stared up at him, feeling your brow wrinkle. The scarf? It was fucking summer, and the scarf was neatly tucked away in the box you were holding. It was literally boiling hot just outside the well-air conditioned hallways of his building. Why on earth did he think you would be wearing--

You inhaled a little sharply when the answer hit you.

The scarf.

The scarf was the first thing he had mentioned the day he had finally confessed to you. Well, after you had confessed first, really, on national television earlier that week, that you were thirsty as hell for him and were also really bad at picking up subtle clues. Or overt clues. Or any clues, honestly.

But now you were standing in his hallway with a box again, and he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time you had done so.

You wracked your brain for what you had said to him in reply that day, trying to hone in on the words past the sudden swell of embarrassment.

“Uh, it’s in here,” you finally replied, gesturing to the box.

That grey and blue gaze dropped to the parcel in your arms, then flickered up to your face. You pushed the box at him, the way you had the day he’d confessed, feeling just as squirmish as you had then.

What else had you said to him? Something very watery and over dramatic, likely. Something like...

“It’s all, um, there--if you wanted to check,” you said. “Except for the vegetables obviously. But I can pay you back, if you give me a couple months.”

Shouto was clearly suppressing a smirk as he feigned curiosity. “Pay me….what?”

You suppressed your own absurd laugh, wondering how far down mortifying memory lane he wanted to go.

“I also wrote down a recommendation for a new cleaning lady, if you want,” you said, patting the top of the box. “It’s in there. Her name’s Mika, she’s super nice. And I can message you or your manager when I have the money. Just let me know which one you’d prefer. Or I can have Mika drop it off.”

Shouto gripped the box, then, long, elegant fingers pulling back the flaps for him to peer inside. He looked absolutely delighted to find the scarf actually within. In one fluid movement, he pulled the scarf out, depositing the box behind him, and turned back to grab your sleeve, pulling you quickly into the apartment with him.

“Okay, what are you doing with the scarf this time?” you laughed, breaking character.

One white eyebrow went up as Shouto gripped your wrist firmly, eyeing you closely as he pulled off your baseball cap.

“Mm,” he hummed absently in his deep tone. “Something I should have done the first time.” He caught your other wrist, pressing it into the sinfully soft fabric of your favorite accessory.

You looked at him, bewildered, feeling your mouth twist into a slight frown. You rather liked the way things had gone the first time around, considering that you had ended up with a boyfriend at the end of it all. What was his bone to pick with the first time around?

“Uh, if I’m recalling correctly, the first time went great,” you said to him. “Like, really really great. Christening your countertops several different times great.”

There was a flash of white teeth as Shouto grinned.

“Ah, but I missed an opportunity,” he said. A soft sensation slid over your other wrist, and you looked down in confusion.

Then it hit you what he was up to, and your face instantly went up in flames.

A firm tug had your wrists knotted together, and Shouto smirked down at you, tugging you closer by the silky fabric of your scarf. Your stomach swooped at the intent look in his eye.

“I had been upset you weren’t wearing the scarf,” he said. “But there was an easy way to fix that.”

You swallowed heavily, your tongue feeling strangely thick. Your brain was suddenly, but predictably, very very empty.

“Y-yeah. But technically you, um. You did fix it,” you babbled helplessly, limbs growing shivery with static as Shouto pressed closer. He was so warm, and he was so stupidly handsome.

“I’ve, uh, worn it a lot since,” you managed.

Shouto considered you quietly, a familiar, wry little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth.

Before you’d started dating, you’d been confused as hell by that expression, suspecting it meant he was bewildered by your very existence but was too polite to say so. After just over a year together, however, you had learned that was just what his face did when he thought you were being unreasonably appealing. Which, mystifyingly, was mostly when the working part of your brain disconnected from your mouth.

You scrounged around for other coherent words, thoughts thick and sluggish, like you were thinking through pudding.

Shouto, however, was merciful, putting an end to your suffering by leaning down and taking your mouth with his.

All the coherent thought you’d managed to dredge up melted away like frost under the morning sun. You pressed yourself closer to him, leaning up to give him better access to your mouth. Shouto kissed you as stupid as he always did before a hot hand came up to cup your face, thumb sliding over your cheek affectionately.

“It seems I’ve got you in the scarf as I had wanted,” Shouto said quietly, once he let you up for air. “But now I find that the scarf is all I want you in.”

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you might have said was as much a mystery to you as anyone. But all that managed to come out was a choked, breathy little noise.

Shouto laughed.

Then there were large hands on your waist, and the next thing you knew, you were staring down at the wood paneling of Shouto’s floor as it moved underneath you. Shouto adjusted you over his shoulder briefly, and then he was charting a brisk course to his bedroom, depositing you like an errant pillow back onto his sheets.

Your cheeks burned as he crawled over you, gaze hot and searching.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

You nodded vehemently, eyes pulled to the little flat sliver of his abs where his shirt had ridden up.

“Good, yeah, I’m so good,” you managed to garble out. You were going to be so embarrassed about this later, but as usual when it came to him, you really couldn’t help it. If you’d learned anything in the year you’d been together, it was that you would always have the world’s fattest crush on Shouto Todoroki.

Strong fingers came up to grasp your chin, tipping your face up for another searing kiss. You managed to loop your bound arms over the back of Shouto’s neck, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and pulling him down to you more firmly.

Shouto flattened himself against you, so that you could feel every strong plane of his body, every hard muscle. You shuddered, and you could feel Shouto smirk against your mouth.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, hands pulling at your shirt. You wiggled so that he could pull it out from under you, sliding it up to rest just below the scarf. In the next second he’d also gotten you out of your pants, so that you were mostly bare to him in the cool apartment air.

Shouto looked you over for a moment, looking like he still couldn’t believe you existed. “Having you over the countertops was something that I wouldn’t change. Something that I won’t change, once you move in.”

Your face went hot and you squirmed underneath him.

“However,” he said softly, “I believe I would have liked to have been more deliberate with you. Taken my time with you,” he paused. “Perhaps...I might have made you come once for every photo of me on your twitter.”

The tips of your ears went hot. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t be serious.

You had deleted that twitter over a year ago, and though he’d apparently been allowed access to the contents by his manager (rude) there was absolutely no way he could remember how many pictures of him you’d retweeted. You’d been the one doing the retweeting, and even you didn’t remember, though you thought the number was probably embarrassingly high.

“There was like, one,” you squeaked out.

Shouto’s smile went dark and he leaned over you, his perfect, infuriating mouth so close he might have kissed you again.

“Thirteen,” he said, mouth brushing yours as he spoke. “There were thirteen photos of me on your twitter. All while you tried so hard to act like you didn’t want me, that you wanted to be just friends.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to be my friend,” you protested. You jerked when his hand slid up your side to cup a breast, thumb slipping under the band of your bra.

“You weren’t accepting my gifts,” he said, fingers grazing your nipple. You bit down on an embarrassing noise, letting out a sharp breath. “How else was I to make you take them?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Shouto made another pass over your nipple, and a moan escaped you instead.

“That’s right, love,” he said encouragingly. “Now I’m going to make you give me something in return. Thirteen somethings, in fact.”

He peeled down the cup of your bra, fastening his hot mouth over your breast. You whined, twitching when he flattened his tongue, dragging it slowly over the point of your nipple. A strong arm came up to press your hands down over your head.

“Shouto, thirteen is insane,” you panted.

He paid you no mind, instead swirling his tongue in a way that made your vision blur.

A tugging at your wrists made you look up, in time to see Shouto one-handedly looping the long end of the scarf through the slats on his headboard and pulling tight. Your whole body clenched up at the implication.

The slide of fabric over your breasts told you that Shouto had also managed to get your bra up, and hot mouth closed over your other nipple, long fingers carefully plucking at the other. “We have all weekend, love. Thirteen is ambitious but quite possible.”

You made a weak noise of acknowledgement, hips shifting forward against his stomach.

Shouto laughed, hot breath ghosting over your breast, and then he was crawling down your torso, hands grasping your underwear. He pulled it down slowly, torturously, until he managed to get it off you, then pulled your knee over his shoulder.

You whimpered, feeling like you might actually pass out from how hot he looked, one thigh thrown carelessly over his shoulder, gaze intent, staring down at you like a starving man looking at a hot meal.

You squirmed, trying to pull your arms down to get your hands on him, but the scarf held fast, pulling more firmly over your wrists.

“Shouto, please,” you said, though whether you were begging for him to touch you or to let you go, even you didn’t know.

Shouto seemed to take it as permission. Those two-toned eyes passed over you hotly, and then he was leaning down, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh. You jerked violently, but he held you in place, mouth trailing slowly, slowly down to where you wanted him.

You thought you might actually black out before he got where he was going.

“I can’t believe I ever told you you were unwelcome in my apartment,” he murmured, sucking a slow bruise into the skin at the crease of your thigh. “Once you move in, I’m never going to let you leave it.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

Shouto’s tongue flicked out, catching the edge of your sex, and you tried not to choke on air.

Then, finally, he moved, fastening his mouth over you, exactly where you wanted him. All reason completely left you.

After that, everything was an unbearable flurry of feeling--a soft tongue swirling over you, the tickle of his bangs on your stomach, the press of broad shoulders between your knees. There was the rasp of his sheets between your shoulder blades, the slow, deliberate press of two fingers inside of you, a firm grip on your thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

You could feel every point of connection with him, every minute movement of his mouth over you, and the sensation built up into something so horribly, terribly good. You were unable to do anything but writhe and pant underneath him, babbling something that sounded like it might be an approximation of his name.

Shouto hummed and sucked softly, those long fingers curling inside you. He finally hit a spot that made you see stars, and you practically lifted off the bed, back bowing. Shouto licked you through it, tongue curling expertly around your clit while you sobbed out his name, only slowing when your body went slack, collapsing back into his sheets.

When you could see straight once more, you realized he was staring up at you, that wry smile curling the corner of his mouth again.

You fought down a blush, feeling an embarrassed grin pull at the corner of your own mouth.

“You’re unreal,” you said. “I can’t believe I’m going to get to have you all the time.”

Shouto pressed a short kiss to the skin of your hip. “You already have me all the time.”

You flapped a hand in its bindings. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe we’re going to live together.”

His fingers slid gently over the back of your thigh. “I’d have had you in here sooner, if you hadn’t insisted on graduating first.”

You laughed. He was always so very straightforward about whatever he wanted.

He had been making very unsubtle noises about living together only a few months into your relationship, but you’d insisted that you wait at least a year. He’d grown up with more conservative mores, having been raised a rich boy, and taking things quickly once he knew he was serious about you seemed to be the style of things. But you, despite your frankly unreasonable thirst for your own boyfriend, knew the value of taking things just a little bit slower.

So you’d waited a year, just to be prudent, though you’d known all along how things would end up.

And now he finally had his way.

“I’m all yours now,” you promised, laughing. “Soon you’ll be sick of me hogging the bed, and leaving books everywhere, and getting so blackout at the farmer’s market that we don’t have room for all the vegetables.”

“Ah, you’re using me for vegetable access,” he accused, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile he was attempting to smother into your thigh.

“A girl’s gotta have her priorities,” you grinned.

Something lit up in Shouto’s gaze again, and he shifted up against your thigh to lean over you more fully. His fingers gripped the back of your knee tightly.

“I'll make you pay for that,” he promised darkly. “Twelve more times.”

You shivered as he took your mouth again, fingers sliding back between your thighs with obvious intent.

And then you really did. You paid for it.

Twelve more times.

[flamediel]

i get what ur saying about deja vu but before that they were promoting a whole different album with a release date and it just threw me off when the date came and they said crickets. Maybe it was bc of covid who knows but i feel like they scrambled some old bops and threw it together. Like are we ever gonna get the first album im confusion

Ok, so this is what I think (or hope) is happening. Dosclaimer I know no one on the team and this is all speculation but yeah, just my two cents.

So to be frank, cnco has not had the best year. There have been a few scandals (some got buried, some didnt) and their fanbase has shrunk a lot from the olden days. This is because of two things imo: (1) they outgrew a lot of younger fans by putting more mature themes in their music, like in QQS and (2) they tried (and frankly, failed) to break into the US market and stopped catering their music to latam and the club scene there, which is where most of their plays used to come from.

You can also tell in all this that they're struggling to find their sound. The stuff on QQS was all pretty different, and then compared to the singles they dropped? Honeyboo, beso? There's no coherence, and their image as a band and who they are as artists doest really shine through.

However, what I see in all this is them trying to find their voice as artists and exploring it more. We have slow, sexy beats like de mi, more upbeat hits like de cero and cheeky lyrics like ya tu sabes, darker themes with la ley and an a capella song (toxica). Then theyre going for more explicit but still poppy songs w honeyboo and beso. They really tried EVERYTHING this year, and yeah they didn't promote it that much, but you can tell when you see them perform these songs theyre having fun. This makes me think the album they were working on was meant to be an amalgamation of all those things. To ME, it was meant to be a bit of a comeback album, like them breaking out of the boyband bubble and doing their own thing. But there were scandals, and shit promo for their singles, and the fanbase was falling apart.

Releasing an original album in the midst of all that is a TERRIBLE idea. Coupled with the pandemic, where there isnt as much of a club scene and touring is basically illegal, it would have been stupid for them to release something geared towards clubbing and party goers. Like, if you looknat the most popular songs of the year around the world? Drivers license, folklore, even WAP isn't a party song. In latam? Morado, diosa, porfa. Yeah they can be played at clubs, they have solid beats, but they're also much more chill than the typical songs and definitely not something I'd expect from cnco. The point is, neither the US or latam market was really suited to party music this year. And if that's what the cnco album was, no matter how good, without a steady fanbase or solid exposure it would have flopped hard.

Deja vu tho? This is the perfect time for it. Everyone's home, everyone feels disconnected, and nostalgia is running rampant. Do you know how many old movies my family has seen this year? Or how much Andrea boccelli and om kalthoum we listen to? A cover album of old songs is great bc they dont have to do as much for exposure, everyone knows the songs already, and rn it is REALLY HARD to do exposure stuff. Like, i agree they need to do more for fans, but im not talking about promo to fans. Promo outside the fanbase is really hard rn, bc most people are in their own bubble online and its not easy to connect to people who don't know you when you can only use social media. no one is going out and seeing posters. No one is hearing your song on the radio or a party and shazaming it. But if you love tan enamorados or solo importas tu, and you see that a cover is coming out on twitter? You'll listen to it. And if you like it? You might follow, or check out the album. And who is most likely to already like these songs? Older people, and 20 somethings like them who grew up w this music. So who are they most likely to gain as fans? 20 SOMETHINGS.

So, when they do release their original album, if im right in assuming that's its more club/dance oriented and reggae based, these people will be following them. They'll see the release and stream it, the streams will go up, they'll get played more at clubs and parties, more people will hear it, and their reach will grow. And if they throw a couple of spanglish songs on there and have good promo? They can probably push into the US a little as well.

Basically, I'm hoping the delay and deja vu is part of a good marketing strategy. Ofc, this all relies on them DOING PROMO, but best case scenario this can be really successful. Insofar as the actual music, I see this working out and being a good decision.

Again, I have no clue, so share your views w me bc im really curious what people think!

[herohawks]

I just wanted to let you know that I just saw the tattoo artist/actor AU and I’m now following you. I need more of this content please and thank you. I’m excited for reveal if Dabi past/family whenever that happens. I’m also very curious about Dabi relationship with his siblings in this.

part 0 / part 1 / part 2 / part 3

I went ahead and wrote what I headcanon Natsuo and Touya/Dabi’s relationship would be like in this AU. Will definitely get to Fuyumi and Shouto, too! Just too sleepy rn...

It’s long, so I put it under the cut <3

Natsuo: As the second eldest Todoroki sibling, Natsuo is able to witness first-hand the rise and fall of Todoroki Touya. Growing up, Natsuo had initially been jealous of Touya. His older brother commanded all of their parents’ attention: Enji and Touya would be gone weeks at time, no doubt enjoying all the father-son activities Natsuo isn’t privy to. In the rare instances that Touya is home, their mom would dote on him - any request, big or small, would be granted. Mochi for lunch? Sure. Video games past curfew? Why not. 

Whenever Touya is home, he almost always locks himself in his bedroom, snapping at Natsuo to go away when he asks if he wants to play. Natsuo hears Touya crying a lot, through the door. Crybaby Touya is the nickname Natsuo secretly gives his older brother. It must be a hard life, being the favorite. 

Sometimes, though, Touya will agree to play with him. Natsuo learns very early on that Touya hates to play-pretend, so he makes sure to steer clear of those kinds of games. Touya likes quieter activities, like coloring and drawing. They play soccer sometimes, but they have to be secret about it because their dad doesn’t like it when they roughhouse. 

As they grow older, the chasm between them yawns wider. Touya, who’d always been reserved in comparison to Natsuo’s boundless energy, becomes even more withdrawn, snapping and snarling at everyone and everything. He picks fights with Natsuo about petty things, scoffing and making snide remarks. It’s like walking on eggshells being in the same room as Touya. He still cries a lot, usually when he’s arguing and his frustrated tears spill over. Natsuo starts calling him Crybaby Touya to his face, usually leading to the two of them scuffling on the ground until Fuyumi cries to their mom to break their fight up.

By the time they’re in Jr. High, it’d be a stretch to call their relationship “close”. Touya doesn’t go to school like Natsuo does; he has a private tutor because he’s special. Touya used to ask Natsuo about school a lot, what it’s like. Natsuo had told him about class, how he’s made so many friends, how nice his teacher was, the things he’s learned - he tells Touya everything and anything because despite it all, a part of him still likes having his older brother pay attention to him. It’s the only time they can interact without it dissolving into a fight. Touya always seems a little sadder after their conversations though. 

It’s around the time that Touya is entering high school that their relationship slips  like sand between his fingers. It’s like a flip has been switched and Touya actively tries to become the worst version of himself. Fuyumi is naive and Natsuo shields her from the worst of it, but he knows their older brother is hurdling full-throttle on a self-destructive path. 

It’s always Natsuo who finds Touya splayed out in the hallway, reeking of cheap booze and stale sweat. He shakes and mutters nonsense when Natsuo hefts him up, dragging him to the bathroom or bedroom with an arm slung across his shoulders. Depending on the damage, Natsuo may wipe him down with a cool washcloth to clean the worst of it, helps Touya strip into cleaner clothes if he’s coherent enough. 

He sees the baggies, the pricked skin of his inner elbow and legs and wonders why Touya? Touya has everything: dad’s attention, the looks, the fame. It’s the life many can only dream of. Why is he so set in ruining it? Natsuo tells himself This is the last time I’ll help him. Let Mom or Fuyumi find him next time. But everytime he hears the telltale sound of uncoordinated limbs trying and failing to sneak down the hall, Natsuo is up and halfway to his own bedroom door, bracing himself for what he’ll find when he opens it. 

Then, the Todoroki Touya Scandal hits. 

Suddenly, the media focuses on the Todoroki family. Micro-analyzing every little thing they do or say. Natsuo isn’t prepared for the onslaught of sudden attention from strangers and peers alike, bombarding him with questions he doesn’t know the answer to. He doesn’t know why Touya did that. He doesn’t know if it was consensual. He doesn’t know anything. Natsuo’s relatively private life is abruptly put on display and Natsuo has no idea how Touya has survived this long under all the pressure. The things Touya has said and done for years are starting to make more sense. 

After that, it’s like Touya takes this as explicit permission to dig himself an even deeper hole. With a force that surprises even Natsuo, Touya throws himself headfirst into scandal after scandal. The tabloids begin running out of witty one-liners for their headlines - that’s how much Touya’s destructive behavior becomes the norm. It’s like he’s trying to prove something but Natsuo doesn’t understand it, can’t even begin to try. 

And just as the scandals reach their peak, Touya vanishes. Natsuo has no idea where he’s gone and doesn’t have the first clue of where to look. Touya has always been an intensely private person but Natsuo comes to the startling realization that he doesn’t really know his brother at all.

Fuyumi holds onto the hope that Touya’s out there, living some happy, secret life. Natsuo is more pessimistic, but keeps his opinions to himself. He’d blame Touya at first, for leaving. But with their father at home more now, focusing on Shouto and grooming him to become a better version of Touya, Natsuo knows the only one to blame for Touya’s demise is Todoroki Enji. 

So for about five years, there’s absolute radio silence. Then out of the blue, Touya calls him. A simple: “Sup, little brother.” And Natsuo promptly hangs up, thinking it’s a sick joke. Fuyumi calls him later, crying, and says that she and Touya talked. That he’s changed a lot and Natsuo should call him. 

Natsuo does not call him. He texts him instead, tells Touya how fucked up it was that he up and left with no warning, how hurt Fuyumi was, how scared and confused Shouto had become, and how heart-broken it left mom. Out of all the Todoroki siblings, Natsuo has the hardest time forgiving Touya. Mostly because he had thought he knew Touya the most, only to have the truth blindside him. 

The problem is this: Natsuo is stubborn and hard-headed, just like their old man. When Touya reaches out, Natsuo is quick to shut it down, not trusting that Touya won’t disappear again. He doesn’t think he can forgive Touya so easily like Fuyumi, or Shouto who doesn’t really remember Touya much at all. 

The second problem is this: Touya wants to mend his relationship with his siblings so much that the task seems almost insurmountable. When Natsuo pushes him away, Touya (well, Dabi now), accepts it, doesn’t think he’s worth forgiving anyway. It’s actually Hawks who points out that it’s because Dabi loves and cares so much that he can’t bring himself to bridge that gap, to push harder for the result he wants. 

It takes a long time for them to build a relationship again, but once they overcome the hurdle of actually talking, they start to repair their relationship as brothers.  Natsuo is probably the most skeptical when he hears that Dabi-Touya is dating Hawks, of all people. For a guy who hated the acting industry so much to leave it behind, it’s ironic that he’s dating one of the most well-known A-Listers right now. But, when he meets Hawks, it’s hard not to like the guy. The guy’s the polar opposite of Dabi which is hilarious. Hawks is chatty and genuinely kind; he really wins brownie points with Natsuo when he offers to give Shouto a ride to & from school when Fuyumi can’t. 

It’s through Hawks that Natsuo sees Dabi has become truly comfortable with who he is, and can finally forgive Touya for leaving them all those years ago.

[lokishornns]

Make a Wish 1

—

masterlist

mcu masterlist

—

pairing: Loki x Reader

type: series, fluff with some comedy

rating: pg-13

summary: You’re a new employee for the Make a Wish foundation, struggling to make a living in the ever expensive New York City. When your boss (who, for the record, hates your guts) assigns an impossible task as a way to get you fired, you do everything in your power to make a kid happy. Even if that does include getting face to face with the most hated man in the city.

word count: 1919

warnings: cursing probably

notes: this was a prompt from somewhere, i dont remember because i saw it so long ago. also im grounded rn so all i can do is pop on and post, i’m sorry that i can’t check requests!

[Part 2]

—

You stumble through the doors of the Avengers tower, water puddling at your feet and your hair covering your view. You push your hair away hastily, smiling sheepishly at the receptionist who looks thoroughly annoyed that you possibly dripped water into her lobby. You step onto the mat by the front door, brushing water off of your jacket and pants before jogging over to the desk that the receptionist still eyes you warily. You flash a nervous smile, digging into your purse. You sigh in relief as you pull out your business and security card.

“Hi, I’m-”

“Hold on just a second,” her shrill voice causes you to pause as her bony finger holds up right in front of her purse. Your face flushes red and you nod with a tight lipped smile.

Today was a journey. You had been running everywhere attempting to find something, or shall you say someone, who was quickly showing that this mission would be impossible. You had checked all areas of previous sightings, even hacked into a newspaper’s database for witnesses – which you were guessing was highly illegal – and nothing was coming up. The Avengers Tower was a last resort, yet here you were, soaking wet in the middle of the lobby at the mercy of a very annoyed receptionist.

“Name and business?” her voice brings you out of your thoughts, her narrow eyes glaring into your soul.

“Oh, um,” you tell her your name, halting in your phrase as she types your name into some sort of database. “I’m with the Make a Wish Foundation with the intention to talk to-” you freeze for a moment, realizing you weren’t really looking for anyone in particular, “any of the Avengers.” You hand her your cards, watching quietly as her fingers dance across the keyboard, inputting some sort of information.

“It does not appear you have a scheduled meeting with any of the team members,” she says, looking over the rim over her glasses at the screen before glancing back to you. Your face falls at the mention of a meeting, internally cursing yourself for your carelessness. “Would you like me to schedule one?”

“When is the next available time?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. To be quiet honest, you were clueless in what to do. You were a low level employee for the foundation with no prior experience or training except in finance and material management. You had been given this task by your superior who absolutely hated your guts as he found it rather funny to see you struggling. It was a joke task that everyone knew you would never be able to complete, but you still had to try.

“In two months. There’s an opening for Hawkeye,” you groan at her high-pitched voice, putting your head down on the counter. You were going to lose your job and let a cancer patient lose their dream of meeting their most idolized person. Why they idolized him, you had no clue, but who were you to deny him of his Wish?

“Are you sure? I mean, if they have like ten minutes, that’s all I nee-”

“Ma’am,” the woman started, a strained smile stretching her mouth. “If you do not answer my question, I will be forced to ask security to remove you,” she said and you closed your eyes tightly, opening them slowly to stare at the woman, your jaw clenching.

“Listen, I have been on my feet for a solid eight hours. I have ran through the pouring rain all over the city. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday. There is a kid sitting at a hospital right now, wondering why the person they idolize the most isn’t paying a five minute visit to make their day or help them get through the next surgery. So I’m sorry if I seem a little impatient, but I really need to talk to one of the Avengers,” I grit my teeth, the words spitting out aggressively.

Her eyes widen a fraction at your burst, soon squinting and leaning forwards to you. She grabs a small screen off of the counter, pressing buttons furiously. Realization washes over you and your face flushes bright red. Her mouth opens, prepared to yell something, before a booming voice causes both of you to jump.

“Miss Helda! How is your day?” you turn to see a huge mountain of muscles, topped with a bright smile and shoulder length blond hair. Your mouth drops at the sight of the god, shocked to see Thor – the thunder god – wearing sweats and walking around casually. Your face turns an even deeper shade of red at the sight of him if that’s even possible.

“Good evening, Thor,” the receptionist grumbles and you look at her, surprised at the tone she used with the hero. He only seems amused at her irritated attitude, laughing slightly at her scrunched face.

“What is this lovely lady doing here?” you look behind you, confused when you see no one behind you. You look back to the man who is staring directly at you, your eyes flying open in shock.

“Me?” you ask, pointing to yourself.

“Yes, you!” he laughs loudly and you freeze in surprise.

“She was just being escorted out,” Helda snaps, glaring at you. In the midst of the celebrity appearance, you had forgotten about your burst in the lobby, now being harshly reminded.

“Nonsense, she will join me,” he says, walking over to you and Helda with large steps. Helda mumbles something most likely about a pair of idiots and rolls her eyes at his antics, but seemingly unsurprised. Thor might possibly be a security risk, but nobody seems to be able to control him. Your feet feel as if they are bolted to the floor as the large golden retriever lumbers over to you.

His hand slaps on your shoulder, causing you to wince, but he practically drags you along, causing your feet to stumble and almost slip. You stay silent, unable to form any coherent words towards your blond savior in sweatpants. Once in the elevator, the huge god leans down towards your ear.

“Do not fret, mortal. I overheard your conversation. Helda is quite troubling, but all with good intent,” he whispers and you turn your head to him. “You also are able to talk, correct?” he asks, an amused smile on his face.

“O-oh yeah. Sorry, I’m just – You just possibly saved my job,” you blabber, cringing slightly as you realize how embarrassing your words were.

“Funny, people don’t usually say their job,” he says with a large smile, and before you can apologize, the doors slide open, displaying the lounge room that’s always displayed on the news or in random pictures on Instagram.

“Thor, where did you pu-” a voice sounds from your right and you whip your head to face blue eyes and short, blond hair. Your mouth opens widely, not expecting to come face to face with the living representation of righteousness. “Who is this?” he asks, an eyebrow raising at your wet appearance.

“This lady is with that organization that you grant genies,” Thor says, clearly pleased with himself.

“Wishes,” you say, clarifying the confusion between you and the Captain. “I work for the Make a Wish foundation,” you smile nervously, knowing that if anyone here was to shut down your request, it would be Captain America. The only way you could market this to him would be with pulling on his emotional strings.

“Hi, I’m Steve Rogers,” he says, holding out a hand and you introduce yourself, hesitantly shaking his hand. You smile, gulping at his iron grip. “Sorry, but do you mind me asking what you’re doing up here, ma’am?” he asks, his brows drawing together slightly. You stutter slightly, looking at the mountain of muscles that stands besides you.

“I – uh,” you start, unsure of what to say. You hadn’t expected to come so far. “I was assigned a Wish for a cancer patient by the name of Cody and he has a specific Wish that he would love to be filled by his idol,” you say, your heart rate rising.

“Usually they contact us through Tony,” Steve eyes you warily, glancing at your sopping clothes. Your ears go pink, a clear sign of embarrassment.

“About that,” you pause, biting the inside of your cheek, “you aren’t the people who this boy wants to meet.”

“Well then, what can we do to help?” he asks, content with your answer.

“I was hoping you can help me contact him,” you say, pulling a scrunched face. At the sight of Steve’s confusion, you huff. “To cut things short, I need you to help me contact Loki Laufeyson, your main enemy,” you sigh. Your words cause Steve’s jaw to tick and his gaze hardens.

“I don’t believe we can help with anything,” Steve looks over to Thor, giving him a slight nod. You meet Thor’s soft stare, as if some unknown emotion is triggered by the mention of his brother. His hand grips your upper arm, starting to pull you back to the elevator. Your eyebrows raise in panic and you immediately rip your shoulder back, wincing at the pain that shoots through your shoulder. Thor’s eyes train on you, surprise filling his expression.

“Hold on, before you take me away, please just hear me out,” you look into Steve’s eyes, your eyes narrowing. “I know how it sounds, but I really need to find Loki. This kid is in the final stages of his condition and he doesn’t have very long. My boss gave me the assignment because everyone but me has given up on this kid. I am not about to let this eight year old kids dream fall through because a man in spandex and sparklers over here is refusing to contact their emo teenage arch nemesis. If you are hesitant because of the kids safety, do remember how many kids you put in danger every time you decide to bust a couple random gun dealers. He may not even accept, I don’t know, but I sure as hell won’t let you get in the way of the one thing that may still matter to this kid,” you bite out, not realizing that in the process you had stood up straighter and had almost backed Steve into a wall. His mouth had fallen open in the process, unable to get past the fact that a woman in the soaking and seemingly weak state she appeared had just stood up to the great Captain America.

“I like her,” a voice echoes and your head turns to see Tony Stark approaching you, his ridiculous glasses on.

“Why do you have your glasses on, its dark outside?” you ask, your nose scrunching up.

“Hangover, dear. It knocks down the strongest,” he says and you nod stiffly.

“Now, let’s go contact reindeer games,” he smirks, turning around abruptly. You stare after him, surprised at his response. It takes a glance at you to shake you out of your state of shock. You run after him, trailing water in your wake.

Steve and Thor stare after you, watching as you turn the corner. Steve looks to Thor and notices his entranced expression, laughing slightly.

“Thor, you have Jane,” he reminds the god, and Thor turns to him with wide eyes.

“That’s her,” he says and Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s who Loki’s going to marry.” Steve snorts and rolls his eyes, but Thor remains in place, his mind reeling.

[01010010-posts]

abo anon. how would the omega bois tease their alpha? what would motivate them to do it? Jealousy? Boredom? Need?

my friend abo anon i’ve missed u sm,,,, how are u cutiemhh let’s see, for connor it’s totally all 3 of them. jealous? he’d tease the HECK out of his alpha, just to be fucked a lot, as to mix both their scents together and to get his ‘prize’ bc honestly?? he’s not afraid to cut a bitch it’s HIS alpha not someone else’s fuck. boredom? that’s the most unlikely to happen but it’s still on the list: he’d rub himself all over you and the nest, to make it clear that he hates not doing anything for a long period of time and maybe maybe as his alpha mhh you could help out a bit? need? yes!!! needy boy,,,, shy about it because perhaps now’s not the time but gosh you look so good and he really wants your hands on his body in this moment. he’d be subtle, lingering touches, a lightly distressed scent to catch your attention, minuscole unnecessary sensual movements60 is more the type of jealousy & need. i mean he’s always a teasing mess so boredom does not count,,,, but you? someone being too close? hinting something too much? he’d see red. he wouldn’t even tease too much at first probably, completely bothered by the fact that your jacket smells weird and he doesn’t like it AT ALL, because he’s full of insecurities so no wonder others might make you happier than what he’s able to. this stupid dork. he clams up (which is a thing that never happens so?? take the clue?? you idiot uncaring alpha) and his nervous scent (no matter how much he tries to hide it) is often present. confronts him about it and let him know that there’s no need to be so worried because you’re there for him and nobody can change that. you have a mark to prove it too! give him lots of cuddles and kisses and THEN he’ll get all cocky, teasing you to no end. need? absolutely. esp in heat; he still hates it a bit so teasing is a nice way to relieve the stress. esp if it means getting fucked sm.RK900 is ughh do i really need to spell it? he’s a ultra fucker teaser. he TEASES every time he has the chance. actually more as a game between you two than anything, in public he’d whisper you some phrases that leave few things up to imagination, the more you react the more fun it gets. ofc if you don’t like it just say so & he’ll stop immediately, apologizing. but if you whisper him hot words back? ghhuu he’ll melt and won’t be able to wait to go home!!! and yes at home? he teases ALOUD who cares everyone needs to hear how fucking much he loves you and how fucking much you love him,,,, which is a thing the neighbours know too well with his little yelps and moansomegas: ahh well connor praises tons of them, his fav is ‘perfect’ but talking about petnames good boy could still be a nice way to call him, not always tho or it’ll lose the power of making him shiver and feel all warm, otherwise, normal ones are ok! honey is so cute it totally gives off the dripping image of him panting, cheeks blue, at the mercy of pleasure, his alpha on top giving him kisses and murmuring sweet nothings. i guess saying his name over and over gets him into a kinda fuzzy ecstasy yes it’s his name, he’s his own person, that’s the name you repeat everyday and so it will be like this for a long time still, it relaxes him. what would he say? most of the time he’d be too busy moaning and focusing on letting both of you feel good so he prefers talking without any rush when two are spent from the effort, not actually doing anything if not hugging60 would love to get praises too but he’s not actually the type to ask, it would make the gesture meaningless he thinks (which is not the case aaaa) so if you know he’d be all preciously gasping for air, if not that’s a bummer :( but he wouldn’t mind you saying soft things either, be it something you want to say about him, about you, about your relationship or what you’re feeling rn. maybe you can say you’re going to bite him?? pLEASE? as for names,,,, gosh you have quite the choice. it can be something a bit out of a crappy & steamy romance novel but you can easily throw in some ‘slut’ or light things like that, nothing too extreme. but then again that’s the heat of the moment, otherwise some petnames that are implicit compliments like ‘pretty boy’ and so on are his favs. his name, if he decides to get one, he’d be p happy if you used that. what he would say? yep. he’d be rough & dirty but if you don’t appreciate it just tell him so not a prob. he can be a total sweetie if he wants.RK900 he wants you to,,,, simply be you. like, i know it sounds stupid but he’s cheesy. he wants you to openly express only what you want, if you want to praise him good, if you want to keep silent good too, if you want to kiss him for the whole time GOOD too!!, if you want to slur half words because he feels so good well VERY good too. petnames? the concept is quite cute, honestly, totally a human feature but he likes to try his best at them. his fav is baby because it’s the complete opposite of what he is, big, perfectly able to survive on his own, human (okay maybe the second thing’s not so true,,, let him believe it fam) but it’s,,,, so cute,,,, his alpha caring for him sm he’s weak. would say? he would moan a lot as connor does but he’s the superior model so he’d still be able to say things, not so coherent but it’s all about how you make him feel: fucking nice.alphas: connor uhh whatever sounds you do to let him know that you’re enjoying this as much as he is which is A LOT. since i’ve already said what petnames he’d like i’ll say what petnames he’d call you,,,, his fav is definitely cutie, sweetie and everything that’s tiny and pretty. what he would say? is this ok? checking on you constantly he’s worried!!!!60 he would love to hear what really gets you excited so he can do it next. his fav petname gosh that’s hard,,,, he’d tease you with a name that only you two know. as for him he talks too much, you need to kiss him so he can put that stupid tongue to a better use.RK900 fuck,,,, he’d noiselessly bask in you, your sounds, your body, everything you want him to see and more so continue like this thank you. petnames he’s a fucking moron if you think he’d be too shy to say them aloud you’re right but if you think he’s not so bold as to overcome that just to see you happy you’re wrong big wrong he’ll call you every sorts of name esp when you’re being all cuddly, his fav is ‘love’ do i even need to specify. he’d be super smooth with words when it’s just the two of you making love he doesn’t know how he can be but gosh,,,, you’re not complaining at all this guy is my weakness.

[shadows-echoes]

Writer’s Questionnaire

tagged by: @negotiator-on-site and @deviantramblings . Thank you guys for the tag! I spent way too long thinking about these tbh.

Short stories, novels, or poems?

For reading? Novels. I love absolutely delving into a world and completely immersing myself in it. In my experience, poems/short stories are like looking through a window: the more you look, the more you’ll probably see. Reading a novel, or an entire series, is more like walking through a door into another world, and that’s exactly what I want from a story. I want it to completely consume me.

With all of that being said, what’s the exact word count that draws the line between a short story and a novel? 10,000 words might be a short story, but is 25,000 still considered a short story? 100,000? 300,000? Where is the line drawn? Tbh, I’m 100% down with any long-ish story that draws me in.

As for writing… Imma keep it real with you chiefs, the shortest stories I’ve ever written are for D:BH. Pretty much every other fic of mine is 25+ pages, and a couple of the longer ones are closer to, or exceed, 180 pages. I haven’t finished those. They’re all drafts, so to speak, and the amount of editing needed makes me balk whenever I think about it, but they’re there. The stories that I’ve actually finished are all short-ish stories lol (at least in comparison to some of the other stuff I’ve written).

What genre do you prefer reading?

FANTASY!!!! We live in a non-fiction world that can be quite depressing at times. If I’m going to fling myself into a story, I want it to be magical. I want it to have something that this world doesn’t. I want magic and dragons and mystery and soulmates and forbidden love and all the crazy shit.

What genre do you prefer writing?

Fantasy/fiction.

Are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person?

It depends on the story. Most times, I’ll write one scene and it develops into an entire plotline as I write it. Other times, like with Of Blood and Biocomponents for example, I’ll spend a lot of time planning everything out before I write it so I can work in a number of clues and Chekov’s guns’, etc.

What music do you listen to while writing?

When I really need to focus, I’ll listen to anything instrumental. That can range from soundtracks (e.g. from The Last of Us, LotR, Hans Zimmer’s stuff), to more individualized and upbeat songs (e.g. Lindsey Stirling, Peter Gundry, Max Richter, Hidden Citizens) to classical (e.g. Chopin, Wieniawski, Mozart), or even just ambiance rain sounds on youtube etc. Otherwise, when I need to get in the mood for a certain scene I have entire playlists dedicated to evoking a certain emotion (e.g angst -obviously-, sadness, love, adrenaline rushes).

Fave books/movies?

I don’t really have any favorite movies so I’m just going to list a whole bunch of books/series I love: 

ACoTaR by Saraj Maas

Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi

Learning Not to Drown by Anna Shinoda

Feminist Fight Club by Jessica Bennett

ASoIaF by George Rmartin Rmartingeorge Martin

The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson (a classic that breaks my heart)

Night by Elie Wiesel (a classic that breaks my soul)

1984 by George Orwell (a classic we practically live in rn and it terrifies me)

Some Quiet Place by Kelsey Sutton

The Hunt by Andrew Fukuda (the plot twist at the end of this series blew me the fuck away. It’s been years and I still haven’t found my wig)

Any current WIPs?

Only around like… 16? (Excluding all of the half-formed ideas and prompts in my “Graveyard” folder, that is). Which is incredibly surprising to me? I thought it’d be way more. However, most of those WIPs are all… heartbreakingly long and only half-finished, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be?

Lace-up combat boots, black jeans, and a random, probably blank, t-shirt.

Create a character description for yourself:

Hi, I’m Jayde, an average human person who thinks obsessively writing and learning new stuff are fun activities. I look like Idc but I actually care too much; I’m a ride-or-die bitch. Intovert™ (I would much rather have a first conversation w/ someone be about the trolly problem or systems theory instead of the weather). Often low-key enraged by society.

Do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing?

Aspects of them? Of course. Actually writing them into a story? Nope. I totally draw on my experiences with certain people to help me write. That’s a given with any writer. However, unless I’m writing a biography on them with a full Chicago-style bibliography then I leave real people the heck alone.

Are you kill-happy with characters?

Depends on the characters. I have killed off a couple, but my soul is fueled on angst and there’s only so much of that a single death can provide. Nah, it’s usually better if people are alive and just… injured or... problematic.

Coffee or tea while writing?

I’m usually most productive writing-wise at night, so it’s either decaffeinated green tea or hot chocolate for me (bc I do try to have some kind of sleep schedule even if I fail with that goal).

Slow or fast writer?

So, so slow.

Where/who/what do you find inspiration from?

Anything, really. Sometimes an idea will just pop into my head and I’ll have to write it. Other times, it’ll start with a feeling, a situation, or an experience that slowly morphs into a fic the more I think about it.

If you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be?

Idk what I would be, but I’d love to be literally anything/anyone with some kind of magic or special ability. Like, bruh, I’m already human, gimme something else. Gimme some of the good shit.

Most fave book cliche? Least fave book cliche?

(Well-written) LOVE TRIANGLES AND MUTUAL PINING!!!!

I’m so fuckn horny on main for a good love triangle. When they’re done badly, they’re atrocious. That’s a given. But when they’re done well??? Hot damn. Like the kind of love triangles in ACoTaR, the Shatter Me series, or even the Trylle series (which first got me into it all). The kind where problems develop naturally between the MC and the first love interest, where the MC has to work with the “bad guy” for some reason or other and it turns out he’s actually super fuckn dope (*cough* Rhysand *Cough*). The kind where the more MC learns about the people she’s/he’s/they’re around, the more their feelings start to shift based on that knowledge.

I do not mean the kind where the MC just can’t make up her/his/their mind bc omg Hot Person #1 is so hot and looks to be carved from marble, but omg Hot Person #2 is also so hot, looks to be carved from marble, and is also mysterious.

As for a cliché I hate (if the poorly written love triangle doesn’t count in and of itself), I seriously dislike the damsel-in-distress thing. Don’t get me wrong, that card can be very well played in some cases, but when it’s the only card in the whole damn deck for 200, 300, 400+ pages? Nah, brah. I’m out. I’m certainly not asking for BAMF MC every time, but like,,, at least give the MC a goddamn spine you absolute cowards.

Fave scenes to write?

Pining and angst, baby.

Most productive time of day for writing?

The ungodly hours between night and day, when the outside world falls quietly into slumber and one’s imagination runs wild in the dark.

Reason for writing?

I started writing because I had some ideas and realized that nobody could/would write them in the exact way I imagined them except for me? I’ve continued writing because it has almost become a coping mechanism to explore and organize my thoughts and feelings and daydreams in some kind of coherent way. Plus it’s fun.

_

Tagging: @deviantsupporter @deviancy-wasteland @sunstrain @writerscavity @aerynwrites

[latenightbotanist]

I have feelings about the ode to joy and im going to dump them on you

At the time i am writing this part i have suffered through twenty two (22) hours of “ode to joy” repeated in my brains so you are gonna suffer with me now. Srsly, ask @madgronkish i kinda lost it around noon.. Anyways. First thought when i heard it was literally" theyre not going to fucking reunite them to THAT SONG??!?!“ Whilst i was wrong about sherlock driving the car…they still did that. Thanks mofftiss.

Ok now down to business. First off, DISCLAIMER, i am in no way qualified to do this? I dont know much about music and have like half an experience at writing meta? so..sorry in advance, maybe just look at this as inspiration and well..gay feelings bc i have enough of those to go around rn.

I will also tag some lovely people who actually know how to do this whole meta thing, and who knows, maybe one of you actually reads this mess and makes somethin out of it? Possibly? Idk, i dont blame you if you dont, really. @quietlyprim @loudest-subtext-in-tv @joolabee @hudders-and-hiddles @love-in-mind-palace @teapotsubtext @beejohnlocked @kinklock @marcelock @gaytectives @ormondsacker @culverton

So.. for all of you who dont know, ode to joy (originally “freude, schöner götterfunken”) is part of beethoven’s 9th symphony, it is the first ever symphony to incorporate voices, the lyrics mostly come from schillers “Ode an die Freude” and the melody itself has been the european anthem since 1972 (1985 if you insist on EU).

Ok so lets have a quick look at the lyrics(and i really mean quick, these are my notes from this morning, not exactly coherent but enough to get a general idea of my feelings about this, we’ll get into more detail later) i also put both the english and german version bc i felt at some points things got lost in translation, but honestly i dont know what to do about that so yeah, if you speak german, good for you, if not and by the end if this youre not bored to death and still have questions dont hesitate to ask i will awkwardly but gladly try to elaborate (this applies not only to lyrics btw)

O Freunde, nicht diese Töne!


Sondern laßt uns angenehmere anstimmen,


und freudenvollere.

/

Oh friends, not these sounds!


Let us instead strike up more pleasing


and more joyful ones!

(Literally lets have happier stories, also the score.. yes lets get the johnlock theme back,please)

Freude!
Freude! / Joy!
Joy!

Freude, schöner Götterfunken


Tochter aus Elysium,


Wir betreten feuertrunken,


Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!


Deine Zauber binden wieder


Was die Mode streng geteilt;


Alle Menschen werden Brüder,


Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.

/ Joy, beautiful spark of divinity,


Daughter from Elysium, 

 
We enter, burning with fervour,             (Cant set the heart on fire if its

 
heavenly being, your sanctuary!              already burning w/ love, yall)


Your magic brings together 


what custom has sternly divided.               (Gayyyy!!!!!)


All men shall become brothers,           (Secret brothers,reunion…)


wherever your gentle wings hover.      

(Idk, mrs hudson is an angel?)

/

Wem der große Wurf gelungen,


Eines Freundes Freund zu sein;

 
Wer ein holdes Weib errungen,


Mische seinen Jubel ein!


Ja, wer auch nur eine Seele


Sein nennt auf dem Erdenrund

!
Und wer’s nie gekonnt, der stehle


Weinend sich aus diesem Bund!

/

Whoever has been lucky enough.         (Luckiest man in the world,


to become a friend to a friend,                 my only friend, … ) 

 Whoever has found a beloved wife,


let him join our songs of praise!               (Uh….how bout no?)


Yes, and anyone who can call one soul


his own on this earth!                                       (My john…..)


Any who cannot,

let them slink away
from this gathering in tears!   (Mary crying,then disappearing)

/

Freude trinken alle Wesen


An den Brüsten der Natur;


Alle Guten, alle Bösen


Folgen ihrer Rosenspur

.
Küsse gab sie uns und Reben,


Einen Freund, geprüft im Tod;*

(Like.. sherlock died and
 came back for john what more proof??)

 Wollust ward dem Wurm gegeben,

 
Und der Cherub steht vor Gott. 

Every creature drinks in joy


at nature’s breast;


Good and Bad alike


follow her trail of roses.                  (Good and bad, rosie, hmmmm)


She gives us kisses and wine,


a true friend, even in death;              (Or only in death?hey mary)


Even the worm was given desire,     (Mycroft? Nah,probs moriarty)


and the cherub stands before God.    (Sherlock, my lil cherub)

/

Froh, wie seine Sonnen fliegen

Durch des Himmels prächt'gen Plan,

 (Plans…ominous)


Laufet, Brüder, eure Bahn,

 
Freudig, wie ein Held zum Siegen.

Gladly, just as His suns hurtle


through the glorious universe,


So you, brothers, should run your course,             (the way it was always


joyfully, like a conquering hero.                                  meant to be…..) 

/

Seid umschlungen, Millionen!


Diesen Kuß der ganzen Welt!


Brüder, über’m Sternenzelt


Muß ein lieber Vater wohnen.


Ihr stürzt nieder, Millionen?


Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?


Such’ ihn über’m Sternenzelt!


Über Sternen muß er wohnen.

/

Be embraced, you millions!


This kiss is for the whole world!             (,!!???? Like???????Yes pls)


Brothers, above the canopy of stars


must dwell a loving father.                                (Or two? Hey dads)


Do you bow down before Him, you millions?


Do you sense your Creator, o world?


Seek Him above the canopy of stars!


He must dwell beyond the stars.

Well that was……….. kinda gay. Yeah yeah i know its just a queer reading no i dont believe it was intended to be gay by either beethoven or schiller (or was it?? Irdk) but. in the context of the show. which is rather what were looking at. Pretty damn gay, right?

Ok lets have a look at my absolute favourite lines first:

Your magic brings together/what custom has sternly divided.

Well… i think we can all agree that society has, quite sternly indeed, divided holmes and watson, romantically. Homosexuality just simply wasnt a custom, or at least very frowned upon, mildly speaking. It is rather magical to watch this wrong being righted though, i should think. More specifically in bbc sherlock, the divide has come through a custom of not speaking to each other, and guess what?? Yeah hudders is friggin done with that bs these two are talking now!

And then…

Be embraced, you millions!/This kiss is for the whole world!

*shrieking* do i? Do i really need to talk about this? I think not. This just…. yeah. I mean really….. I would like to add at this point that, at least to my ears, embraced sounds like a rather tame option of translation. “Umschlungen”, to me personally conveys a certain vigour, almost as if the embrace might… idk.. come as a surprise to some extend? Take the air from some peoples lungs? Yeah dunno what that could be about……

If you still need more i guess i could just blubber some more about it all but tbh what is structure? so yeah, here we go, feel free to leave anytime i mean its already pretty gay and hurts my heart i wont blame you if you think 

•WE ARE NOW ENTERING THE REALM OF JOY… yep thats happening things are getting happy, please, god, let them actually. And this joy that we will feel when John and Sherlock ( finally) get together will mend all the wrong thats been done to those two, and us Holmes fans, during all these years of being kept apart by society and norms and customs, homophobia and heteronormativity. Were entering a sanctuary, we are literally save here!

•General message of schiller’s ode to joy is literally that HUMAN CONNECTIONS ARE THE CROWN OF HUMAN EXPERIENCE like wow yes thank you it is as if human connections were the stuff that…completes you as a human being. Say what? 

•Not only is this true for johnlock but also for our entire community, were bound together by the joy of this show, our joy will mend what heteronormativty destroyed, the joy of their kiss will unite us, we will embrace it and the joyfull gayness will embrace us! 

 •The fact that its literally such a groundbreaking piece of music. There have been symphonies over and over but this is new, this is different, he incorporated voices. Groundbreaking,earthshattering… u get it. Seriously if anyone who has even a slither of a clue about music wants to educate me on what the inclusion of voices could stand for please im begging enlighten me my brains too fried im already struggling to get this done(as you might be able to tell. I am so sorry)

 And now, onto some more shit i stumbled upon in the original poem that, sadly, didnt make it into the song but: 

•Have patience for a better world to come, god(mofftiss) is good and will give you what you deserve

•Forget hatred and revenge, forgive your (arch)enemy who shall not have to cry or be rueful (ahem mary. Also possibly mycroft to some extent who knows whats gonna happen) 

•Bravery even in agony,help where innocence is weeping (hi john) 

•Something about oaths and telling the truth to your friends as well as enemies and how lies will bring everything down…… 

•Narrowing the circle, making oaths with wine and staying faithful(keep believing!!) 

•Salvation from tyranns, hope to the dying, mercy in council, forgiving of sins and ENDING HELL well ok then yes to all! 

 No honestly theres a lot and im horrifically underqualified and have a headache so i’ll stop now. If you actually read this whole mess of a thing.. thank you. Bless your soul. I’ll make you an origami elephant or something