#mal writes some shit

[skinteresting-enough]

A black cat walks up to a leg, and politely paws at it.

The camera zooms out to reveal that the leg belongs to Nimona. Nimona looks down at the cat, and shapeshifts into a pink cat herself.

The black cat startles at this for a bit, but as Nimona meows, they quickly calm down and meow back.

"You want to stand in this spot?" Nimona asks.

The cat meows once, then headbutts Nimona.

Nimona headbutts back affectionately, and then turns around and jumps down from where she first stood. The black cat moves to sit down in the now free spot, closes their eyes, and starts purring.

The camera zooms out further to reveal that the black cat and Nimona are standing on a tiered podium labeled "Mal's Top 3 Favorite Movies of All Time". Nimona is standing on the no.2 spot, and the cat is sitting in the no.1 spot. (The no.3 spot has a black bar over it for some reason.)

...

Yeah, Flow (2024) is definitely the movie of all time. Achingly lonely and hauntingly beautiful. Definitely give it a watch (preferably with some of your money attached, if you can afford it) sometime.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to cry for a couple of hours.

[eva-graces-stories]

Some random doodles I did yesterday. Nothing super serious. The picture of the pain au chocolat is actually from my phone, since my cousin, my grandma, and I went to this French bakery and I saw a pain au chocolat and was like, “OH HECK YES.” That’s how hyperfixated I am. I geek out over French pastries not because I want to eat them, but because I’m thinking of this game. (It was yummy though. That was a plus. It would have kinda sucked if I was expecting this revolutionary, magical food of godly origins and I just got a cruddy croissant with some melted Hershey bars inside of it.)

Some closeups of the doodles because Tumblr has something against my photo quality

None of these are masterpieces or anything, but I think they’re kinda cute :3

[mechazushi]

GOD FUCKING DAMN IT, IT TURNED INTO A THING!!!!!

Haaa... Kafka x Dante Love Children AU + lore/story beats. Amateur art warning under the cut. Also long post warning. Like... REALLY long post.

Before you get into this, might I recommend my two Dmc x Kn8 Crossover Fics for context?

25 Minutes

Another Fucking Idea

{I am NOT coming up with the full devil trigger forms, ya'll got imagination, do it yourself. That shit is too damn detailed oriented for my hands to deal with.}

Francesca "Rimi" Rimini Hibino-Sparda. (Kafka insisted on the hyphenated name, but Dante insisted that takes the back seat in placement because Kafka was the one to give birth to them)

The older sister... Technically. By seven minutes.

Definitely takes after both of her fathers in humor. They like to joke that she stole all of her sister's energy in the womb.

Real big into music. Likes to study music theory and make beats in her spare time.

Wields two axes named Bass and Treble (Bass is pictured here.) Bass had the meat mallet end designed for breaking exoskeletons while Treble has a Kaiju uni-organ socket for elemental damage. She gave Nico a look at it and now can put demonic energy into the ax as well.

Currently works with the Defense Force style of Fighting, but has been considering trying out the Devil Arms system as a way to connect with Dante.

The jacket she's wearing was originally Kafka's from the time he was stuck in Dante's dimension. Dante worked with Nico to make something for Kafka so his Kaiju energy could convert into demonic so Kafka could wield the Beowulf Gauntlets and cut down on his time spent in Kaiju form.

Now the jacket makes limited hard-light copies of her weapons and can project them short ranges away from her. (I like to think they make the M-1 Garand ping noise when they do.)

Has an ABNORMALLY high healing factor. Like, faster than Kafka. (Think almost on par with Andy from Undead Unluck but not to the point she can make clones.)

Loves pizza as much as the rest of her family, but is a die-hard for Kentucky Fried Chicken. (Convinced Dante to drive her to Kentucky for a bucket on her birthday.)

Wears heels and can full sprint in them. Partially because she's one of those people that has incredibly tight tendons in her ankles so heels are actually better for her, but also because she's mildly irritated that her sister is taller than her by three inches, even though their both 7ft. (She's 7ft 1in specifically.)

Author's Note: Personally, her Devil Trigger form (the middle face) looks like one of those Chinese Lion Dogs to me but I don't hate it. I aimed to make her look more like a Kaiju to show how she's more on the Kaiju side genetically and to also separate her from her sister which you'll see in just a second. And since I know no one is going to be able to tell but in her Sin Devil Form (the top face) her mouth and eyes are just constantly on fire. Have been debating on what to call their Devil Trigger forms since they're not fully demons. Been leaning towards Kaiju Trigger but I don't really like the sound of Sin Kaiju trigger.

Malatesta "Mal" Paula Hibino-Sparda

The Younger Fraternal Twin sister who stands at a whopping 7ft 4in.

When she was a toddler, she walked right into a cabinet door so hard, it caused a permanent scar over her nose, which technically shouldn't be there because she also had an abnormal healing factor (albeit not as fast as her sister.). It was the first time Rimi and her father ever heard her cry, let alone scream in pain, so it took them a few minutes to react when it happened. It's thought that its still there because she's somehow subconsciously keeping it there.

Acts very cold and unenthusiastic, but don't let that fool you. She is just as full with love and care for her sister as her sister does for her. (although it may not look like it when they fight.)

When Kafka was stuck in Dante's dimension, he got to listen to all the shit that happened to him and his brother so when Kafka got back home and found out he had twins, he became dedicated to make sure that all that shit didn't happen to his kids. (God only knows the damage that would happen if one of them became traumatized.)

She's incredibly shy and socially awkward which doesn't help her outward personality, but once she opens up you'll quickly find out she's a MASSIVE Star Wars nerd.

Goes to all the conventions, has several OC cosplays, and makes a new one every year as a way to showcase her personal growth to herself.

She also pays out the nose for a new custom lightsaber for each of her OC cosplays. Again, this is Every. YEAR.

Built her own Lightsaber Display Wall. Which unintentionally gateway-drugged her into loving DIY projects.

While she doesn't use conventional Defense Force weaponry, she did eventually find out that she has the ability to use the Meraki Kaiju Explosion runes for some reason. No one had any idea how this is possible considering that's not something Kafka can do. It's theorized that her demon half has something to do with it.

Had to create her own system of Defense Force fighting style. Consists of:

Cleansing Ties: An augmented version of the Meraki bands that can produce healing energy. Baneful Bindings: Strings of Meraki bands that trap and restrains enemies and inflicts a Burn status. Sadistic Symphony: An Explosive 4-piece slash attack.

(There's others, but I can't really come up with anything else that sounds interesting.)

After Meeting Vergil, Something came up and it was decided that He should train her in using the Yamato, He had to COMPLETELY rewire her train of thought when it came to sword wielding because it conflicted with all her knowledge on lightsaber stances.

Something happened to the Yamato and caused the tip of it to break off. Vergil converted the broken tip into a small, pocket dimension opening dagger. It's called the Ya-Mini and Mal pretty much only uses it to store snacks. (I should say that the pocket dimensions aren't that big)

Author's Note: Okay, so I didn't really have any idea what her character was going to look like outside of the bolero jacket and the weird corset-tailcoat looking thing I gave her. Once I decided on giving her puff shoulders on the bolero, the princess vibes just kinda fell in. Her color scheme is black, white and yellow, but the second I knew that there was going to be yellow in the outfit, I knew that I wasn't going to be able to color it because I don't know how to color something without it turning piss yellow. If you've followed my page at all, I made an idea that Kafka should get wings and it should look like there's ghost faces in it to represent the souls of those that became the Parasite Kaiju. I absolutely reused that design here. All I knew when I was coming up with her Devil trigger faces that she needed to look more human because I've noticed that in later evolutions of Dante's devil trigger designs (Not including the dmc5 Sin Devil form) he starts retaining a more human face, I'm guessing to represent how he's accepting of his human lineage. Her horns are inspired by Albedo, so I think that helped keep up with the princess theme that I have no idea where it comes from. (I mean that in the sense that I have no In-game/lore reason as to why she looks like this... outside of personal aesthetic I guess?) Do not ask where the snake fangs come from, I think I literally gave up on design cohesion toward the end of the sketch. I should also mention that her hair is on fire.

☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆ Alright, onto the Story. (Abbreviated)

Okay, so if you've read the tags at the end of Another Fucking Idea, I should say that some of that had been retconned a little

Dante does end up in Kafka world and does meet his first daughter, but the rest of the dmc group doesn't end up in Kafka's world as well.

What happens is that another, different colored portal opens up and sends Dante back to his world but traps him in hell. This happens right as Kafka and Mal just step down in Japan.

Rimi saw what happened and tells her father to which he goes "Fuuuuck, another one?"

Kafka then asked for the Defense Force to look out for another portal activity (they know what to look for because they had a hand in fixing the portal problem the first time). Once they do find one, Kafka tries to give his kids a run down of what their about to find on the other side.

He keeps the details of how he knows Dante vague and instead hammers home who to find and where as well as how they had to fix the portal problem the first time.

Once a portal was found, all three of them head over to it. Something happens and only the twins make it through, leaving Kafka on the other side.

Now trapped in a clearly demon infested America, Rimi and Mal decide to hunt down the Devil may cry building. (This is in the rain btw)

They find the building but only find Lady and Trish inside. The twins give them a rundown of what's going on at their end and ask where Dante is.

Trish and Lady tell them that Dante hasn't been seen in three months and they have no idea where he went. They talk for a bit and decide that they should hunt down Vergil because if anyone could get a hold of Dante, it's the man with a portal opening sword.

But before they can get a hold of Vergil, they have to get a hold of Nero because no one knows where the hell Vergil went recently.

So the four of them head out and of course in true Hero's journey fashion they have to fight off a few demons along the way. At first Trish and Lady thought the twins were normal for the most part (excluding the 7ft tall bit) but they very quickly find out about the "I can heal faster than I'm injured" and the "I don't care how big the room is, I cast fireball" parts of the twins. (There was also a discussion about how similar they look to Dante but the twins shut that down by saying that they already know who their dad is {which is Kafka} but they never knew their mom and would like to keep it that way)

They get to Nero and Nico and they ask them where Vergil is and Nero is like "How the fuck should I know? I haven't seen him since that one time a few months after the Qliphoth fell."

So discussions are had, Nero brings up a problem they're dealing with and say that they'll help if everyone chips in and fixes that problem before they tackle the other stuff. (Nero also brings up the "How are the two of you NOT related to Dante" issue but brings up how Rimi's hands on her wings look like his)

Everyone helps wrap up Nero's problem and it consequently reveals where Vergil's been cooped up this whole time. They head on over and ask what's going on with his neck of the woods and he reveals that, for some fucking reason, The Yamato can't open a portal to hell anymore. He's reasonably pissed about this. (oh, at some point between this bullet point and the next it's revealed to the girls that Kafka is in fact their mom biologically and Dante is their dad)

Everyone talks about what's been going on with them and its one of those "Everything is Connected" moments.

They come up with a plan and its that they should teach one of the twins to wield the Yamato because the barrier between earth and hell is being reinforced with dimensional energy from Kafka's dimension and they think that if someone came at it with both types of energies that it should -hopefully- break open just enough to let everyone in.

It ends up taking a lot more than just the Yamato to break it open (This is where the Yamato breaks and Vergil holds on to the broken pieces for later.) They make it into Hell and suddenly Nero, Mal, and Vergil are hit with the WORST pressure migraine they think they could ever feel. (Rimi is immune due to the healing factor.)

They poke around and eventually find Dante who is dealing with a similar migraine and quickly recount what's been going on with them. (After an emotional moment where Dante realizes that not only his kids from another world came to save him but his brother of all people came willingly to help.) {Keep in mind only Dante here knows it's his kids and he's not saying anything}

They all pool their brains together and figure out what's the problem: (So I don't really have an clear picture of what the "Villain" is here but I do know its an original character. The best idea for a plot so far is this->) The guy that made the portal problem the last time in an attempt to resurrect his ?wife? by utilizing transdimentional time warp wasn't as dead as they thought he was and is now trying to destroy all three universes by reinforcing the barrier around hell and stuffing Hell with so much extra-dimensional energy from Kafka's world that once the barrier finally breaks, it will break with enough force that it will wipe out all three universes in one go because they guy got really pissed that he failed the first time.

So obviously that gets fixed, but that's only half of the problem. Dante and Vergil figure that the only way for people to stop fucking around with the dimensional barriers is for them to recreate the ritual that Sparda did with their blood and have the new twin's blood act as a sealant between Kafka's world and their world, which does mean that the twins will never be able to come back to Dante's world.

Now, if it was up to me and I had the power to make this into a video game, this would have two endings. One where you play normally and one where you 100% the game. The first ending is where they make the portal and there is a tearful goodbye where neither Dante or the twins mention that they're related. The portal closes and as Dante turns to leave, Vergil says "Did you know?" and Dante responds with "I don't want to talk about it." aaaaaand credits roll.

The SECOND ending is after 100% the game and you hit the end, the Portal opens back up and the girls jump back through, tackle their dad, and excitedly explain that, just before they did the ritual, Japan figured out a way to let the three of them hop back and forth across their dimensions so Dante can keep his visitation rights. Dante says "The THREE of you?" to which you start to see Kafka's monster frame lumber through the portal. He stands straight, looks Dante dead in the eye (as best he could with the height difference) and says in a tired voice ". . . Hey babe."

And NOW credits roll :D.

The only reason this is achievable after 100% the game is because the in-lore reason is that means you spent THAT long, in in-game hours, that it gave Japan enough time to figure out a way to leave enough space in the fabric of reality that it lets them make a two way portal just for Kafka and his kids to visit Dante. Will this irrevocably change the course of the future for both realities for better or worse? Most definitely. Do I care? Absolutely not. That and we're talking about Half Demon/ Half Kaiju Mutant Children here that wish to visit their dad in a different reality, We've lost the plot when we started.

[mercymaker]

more writing done today and i'm inching mega close to finishing this thing woooo

[toerrishumansodont]

me: I dont even like christianity, cannot tolerate a single christian thought, imagery or sentence uttered in my vicinity,

my downloads folder rn:

[chrissturnsfav]

can you write something about rapper!chris getting a fight with some guy after he said something rude about singer!reader and she cleans his cuts after???

⋆.˚✮ singer!reader helps rapper!chris after a fight

the party is loud, packed, the bass shaking the floor beneath your heels. you and chris came together, but as always, he disappeared into his circle, and you into yours. you don’t mind—you like letting him do his thing while you sip your drink, laughing with your friends. this is how most of the parties go.

but then, across the room, there’s a shift. raised voices. movement.

"yo, chill, chill—" someone’s saying, but it doesn't work, because the next second, you hear chris' voice.

"the fuck you just say?"

your stomach drops. you turn, heart picking up, just in time to see chris shoving some guy back, jaw clenched, eyes dark with something dangerous.

the guy—tall, cocky, probably drunk—grins, like he thinks this is funny. "what? i said your girl got a nice ass. real nice. bet she—"

he doesn’t finish the sentence. chris swings. oh, fuck.

the hit lands clean, a sickening crack echoing over the music. the guy stumbles back, clutching his face. chaos erupts—drinks spill, people scatter, voices rise.

"chris, relax!" nick shouts, rushing in.

but chris isn't relaxed. he's on him again, shoving him, jaw tight, eyes dark. "nah, keep talkin' that shit! see what happens!"

matt grabs his arm, pulling him back before he can throw another punch. "bro, stop. you made your point."

chris is breathing heavy, his knuckles dripping red. you move before you even think, pushing through the circle, reaching for him.

"chris," you say, softer than you mean to.

his head snaps to you. his body is still tense, still coiled like he’s ready to go again, but his expression shifts the second he sees your face.

"come with me," you murmur, rolling your eyes, fingers curling around his wrist.

chris lets you pull him away. his brothers let go, watching as you tug him down the hall, away from the crowd, into a random ass bathroom.

you shut the door behind you, locking out the noise. the air is thick, heavy with the scent of alcohol, cologne, sweat. chris leans against the counter, shoulders still tight, jaw still clenched.

you grab some paper towels, wetting them under the faucet, then take his hand—his knuckles are a mess, blood smeared across his skin, already bruising. you gently begin dabbing at the blood, making him hiss, and you give him a look.

"don’t be a baby," you murmur, focusing on his hand. "you're an idiot," you sigh, pressing the towel to the worst of it.

chris huffs out a small laugh. "man, fuck that dude. talkin' shit like i wasn’t right there."

"i know," you say softly. you're not mad at him. you get it. "but you don't have to fight every person that talks about me..."

he scoffs, eyes still burning as he smirks at you. "nah, see, that’s where you wrong. 'cause i do."

you sigh, shaking your head, going back to dabbing at the cut. his other hand finds your waist, warm and steady, fingers pressing into your skin like he needs to feel you there.

"you mad at me?" he asks, quieter now.

you shake your head, shrugging. "no. just…worried about you."

chris watches you, his expression softening. "ain't shit to worry about, mama. you know i gotchu."

you pause, looking at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. "i know," you whisper, smiling softly.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags 🏷️: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @sturns-mermaid , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart , @slutformatt17 , @mattsturnii , @dominicfikeenthusiast , @mattsbratt333 , @ivysturnss , @tessasturns , @coquettechris , @courta13 , @sturniolo101 , @malsmind , @mattsleftball , @softhyunieeee

@chrissturnsfav ™

[sugardollcurse]

would you feel up doing more mcbeardy smut? the one about him getting back from the get back sessions is driving me crazy !! you’re incredible doll!

𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑙𝑒 | paul mccartney x reader

𐙚 contains; nsfw!! minors dni! female anatomy, semi-public sex, overstimulation

𐙚 summary ; paul needs to unwind after the sessions. you offer your thighs.

𐙚 note ; you know what you're doing to me with these… teeth sunk in my knuckle writing this one! keep making me suffer, alright? xoxo

The sky was dark with London rot. Damp. Bone-cold through coat seams, wet up the backs of thighs, that winter kind of chill that makes breath fog and leather squeak. Paul had just slammed the passenger door of his car, red and rattling and smelling like an ashtray some days, cologne and lemon rinds on others. Today, it smelled like sweat and music. You were already in the driver’s seat, for some reason, hands curled around a chipped thermos of tea you’d brought for him, legs stretched out, boots braced against the gearstick.

He was in his white shirt under a wool coat, loose, two buttons open even in the cold. He wiped at his jaw with a wrist, then leaned over, breath catching.

“God, y’don’t know what today was like.”

You knew.

“You said yesterday was hell.”

“Yesterday,” he muttered, fingers sliding up the inside of your knee, “was nothin’. Today John nearly threw a bloody amp. Didn’t even say goodbye.”

“Mm,” you said, pretending not to react to the way his knuckles were climbing now. Slower, firmer. “So this is your therapy?”

Paul smiled. His voice dragged like a cigarette burn: “You are.”

You didn’t say anything yet. You knew better. You just passed the thermos over without a word. He took it gratefully, curling one hand around it like it was a lifeline, the other settling on his thigh, thumb twitching rhythmically.

He took a sip, hissed when it burned, then did it again anyway. His eyes closed. “Mmm. That’s real tea. That’s salvation.”

You smiled, leaning your head back against the seat.

“George left early,” Paul muttered. “Didn’t even stay through the playback. Mal had to chase Ringo round the car park for a cigarette break that never happened. I think John said all of four words the whole afternoon, two of which were ‘fuckin' hell’ and ‘shit.’”

You made a low sound. “That’s three.”

He cracked a grin despite himself, eyes still shut. “Smart.”

Then silence again. His hand drifted from the thermos and back to your knee, his palm splaying flat against the fabric of your trousers. Just rested there, warm. Heavy. You didn’t move. You weren’t cold anymore.

“I keep thinkin’ I’ll walk in and it’ll just be music,” he said eventually. “Y’know? Not a fuckin’ war. Dunno where it went sideways.”

You hummed, low and sympathetic. “Sounds like you need a new coping mechanism.”

He turned his head to look at you. Eyes rimmed with exhaustion, but that glint there. That fire that didn’t go out, even under pressure. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’ve y’got in mind then?” His voice dropped a little, just the edge of mischief cutting through.

You glanced out at the frost-edged windows, the muffled hush of London beyond the glass. The night was quiet. Your breath still made clouds in the air. And his hand was moving now, inching just a little higher.

He leaned in close, nose brushing your cheekbone, voice curling like smoke.

“Tell me.”

You smirked a little, hips tilting forward, just enough that his palm pressed a little firmer between your thighs.

“Figured we’d find a better use for that backseat.”

He twitched, subtle at first… a breath hitching in his chest, fingers reflexively clenching like a tremor ran down his spine. His eyes dropped, fixated where your thighs parted slightly under his hand, and his voice didn’t come immediately. Instead, he just looked at you. Looked at you like he was trying to memorize the moment before it spiraled out of control

His hand moved slow, careful. A palm dragging up the inside of your thigh, calloused heat through the thin fabric. He moved with deliberation, tracing the seam, knuckles grazing where you were already warm. The pressure wasn’t much, just enough to tease, to keep you barely there and wanting more. He was watching your face now, mouth parted, eyes locked on how your lips parted at the friction.

“You feelin’ that?” he murmured. The accent thicker, low and curling like smoke from a match just struck.

You leaned back against the seat, legs parting more in invitation than answer. He didn’t need to be told twice. His hand disappeared beneath the waistband of your pants, sliding up and over until his fingers met the soaked fabric of your underwear. He paused.

“Oh wow,” he breathed, the words a reverent curse, thumb dragging a lazy stroke over your center. “You’re already-yeah, that’s somethin’, love.”

He pressed the heel of his hand into your mound, grinding down as his middle finger trailed the slick outline, teasing through the fabric with maddening care. He worked you slowly, rhythm shallow, languid, like he had all night to play and no intention of rushing the crescendo. You gasped, hips canting, and he smirked.

And then his hand slipped beneath the waistband. Warm fingers met hotter skin. He groaned, loud, primal, like it gutted him to feel how wet you already were. A groan that caught in his chest, all gravel and hunger. He tugged the fabric to the side with a single-minded urgency that almost made you laugh.

Almost.

Then his fingers were inside you.

Thick, knuckle-deep, one after the other, working in slow circles that made you squirm against the faux leather seat. He watched your mouth as you moaned, biting it in reflex. His pupils were blown wide, almost black.

“Keep makin’ that noise,” he muttered, pushing deeper, curling inside you until your knees knocked. “I’ll never write a ballad again. Jus’ that noise.”

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, your clit, your lungs. He kept working you like he was tuning a bass, thumb brushing just barely where you needed it and then pulling away again, sadistic.

“Paul,” you gasped, grabbing his wrist, but he didn’t stop. Only twisted his hand deeper.

He pulled back suddenly, fingers soaked in your slick. You whimpered at the loss, thighs twitching. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them, two at once, slow and grateful like the taste saved him. The sight of it made your whole body clench, needy.

“Driver’s seat,” he said suddenly, hoarse. “Get in the back.”

You clambered out into the bitter night on shaky legs, icy air biting bare skin. The cars metal squealed as the door slammed. He was already in the backseat, manspread like a fucking prince, white shirt sticking to his chest in patches. His trousers were already undone, the soft weight of his cock resting heavy in his palm. He looked like sin. He looked like the second coming. He crooked a finger.

You climbed in.

Your knees pressed into the seat, trousers shoved down past your thighs, your hands braced. His mouth found the inside of your leg like a starving man. Kissed the skin high and hot until you bucked toward him. When he finally dragged your underwear off, he buried his face between your legs with no ceremony.

You were panting already, your hands buried in his curls, knees quaking. He ate you like his life depended on it, but not fast. Not frantic. No, Paul was methodical, wicked, loving in the most obscene way, like he was crafting a melody with the tip of his tongue, note by wet, slow note. Every lick was deliberate, drawn-out, his mouth open just wide enough to sink into the warmth of you and stay there, breathing you in like he couldn’t get enough, tongue dragging through your folds, then retreating, then circling again. You could feel the shape of his lips when he kissed you down there. Tender. Greedy.

His nose pressed to you, soft scratch of his beard catching where you were most sensitive, and he groaned as he moved, like the taste was anchoring him, saving him from everything he'd left behind in that studio. You swore you felt him smile against you, just the corner of his mouth lifting, when your hips jerked up to chase his tongue. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His hands kept you spread open and still, one arm looped under your thigh, the other bracing your pelvis flat against the seat so he could keep you exactly where he wanted. Where he needed you.

“Mmphh... look at you,” he murmured once, voice thick and muffled against your cunt, barely lifting his mouth before diving back in again. He licked in long, slow strokes, tongue flat, then pointed, then fluttering at just the right spot that made your thighs tremble. He could tell. Of course he could tell. He adjusted instantly, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking with a rhythm that built and built and built.

Your breath hitched with each pass. His tongue made slow, rhythmic laps over your clit, then slid lower, dipping between you, then back again, working you open, coaxing every twitch, every whimper from your body until you were squirming.

“Shh,” he whispered, lifting his head only enough to speak, his chin slick, mouth swollen, voice husky with lust. “Let me. Stay still, love.”

And you did.

You melted under him, spine arched against the cold seatback, one hand tangled in his curls, the other gripping the window rim. The glass was fogged now, your breath painting it opaque in sharp exhales. He moaned into you, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through your whole body, and you let out something between a sob and a curse. His mouth moved with more purpose now, tongue flicking fast and then slowing, like he was teasing you with the brink. Your orgasm built slowly, painfully, a hot, humming pressure that kept cresting and dipping.

When it hit, it stole your breath.

Your thighs clamped tight around his head, and he growled into you, never stopping, never letting up as you came against his mouth, moaning high and breathless and raw. He eased you through it, slow drags of his tongue now, soft kisses, lips wet and reverent as your body trembled. But he didn’t pull back. Didn’t pause. He just kept tasting you, kept licking like he hadn’t gotten his fill.

You gasped, fingers twitching against his scalp. “Paul, fuck, I-I need a second-“

He pulled his mouth back at last, lips parted, chin slick, eyes half-lidded like he’d been drugged, drunk on you. He kissed the inside of your thigh, then again, higher, then looked up, those eyes, warm and spent and stupidly proud.

“Christ, look at you,” he whispered. “Can’t believe I get to do that to you.”

You could barely breathe.

He grinned, crooked and sweet, and thumbed your inner thigh where it was still twitching. The movement was light, casual, like he was playing with you, admiring the way your muscles quivered even after everything. You were still flushed, breath coming in short gasps, your whole body sensitive and open, soaked in the sticky proof of just how thoroughly he’d ruined you.

“Come here,” he murmured, tapping his thigh with his palm.

You crawled into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, fingers clumsy as they pushed your trousers down lower, enough to free you completely. You were trembling, not from the cold anymore. You wrapped your fingers around his cock without even thinking, he hissed through his teeth, head tipping back to thud against the glass behind him.

“Yeah. Just like that.”

You guided the tip through your slick folds, lined him up, and eased down. Slow. Careful. You both groaned at once, the stretch sharp, hot, perfect. His hands gripped your hips, jaw clenched, and he buried his face in your neck as you took him inch by inch.

“So warm. Jesus. You’re takin’ it so slow, are you tryin’ to kill me?” he rasped, voice shredded.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

You bottomed out with a gasp, the position forcing him so deep you swore you could feel him in your ribs. He moaned low in your throat, open-mouthed and breathless, as your walls clenched around him, fluttering from the overstimulation.

You rocked gently, body still soft from the high he’d already given you, your thighs spread wide to accommodate the angle, your hands braced on his chest. He let you set the pace at first, just watching you with dark, heavy-lidded eyes as you rode him. Each roll of your hips dragged his cock through your slick walls, the sound of it obscene in the cramped car, loud and sticky and real.

His hands snapped up to your waist, fingers digging in, and he fucked up into you, hard.

You cried out, spine arching, as he set a rhythm that was brutal and needy. The car rocked with each thrust, springs squealing, windows fogged completely now. Sweat beaded on your skin again despite the cold, your breath hitching every time his cock slammed deep and angled right into the spot that made your vision blur.

“You’re unreal,” he groaned, jaw tight as he held you down and pounded up into you. “Ridin’ me like that. Fuckin’ perfect. Can’t get enough of you, fuck, never could.”

You whined, hands scrabbling for purchase on his coat, forehead pressed to his.

“C’mon, love,” he whispered, voice shaking. “Gimme one more. Just one more. Can feel you twitchin’. Let go for me. I want it.”

Your body was already begging to come again, pleasure curling tight and electric in your belly. His cock filled you so perfectly, each stroke dragging against your walls with friction that made your legs quake. His thumb slid down to your clit, rubbing fast circles, and that was it.

You shattered, again, body spasming in his lap, a broken moan tumbling from your lips as your orgasm ripped through you. He cursed when you clenched around him, hips jerking, and suddenly his thrusts went messy, frantic.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-”

You were still coming when he came too, hot and thick and endless, spilling deep inside you with a low, guttural growl that vibrated in your chest. He thrust through it, riding it out with his arms around you, panting hard into your neck. You felt every twitch of him inside you, every pulse.

The car was still rocking slightly.

The windows were fully steamed, the air thick and reeking of sex. You didn’t move. Couldn’t. His arms stayed around your back, his lips brushing lazily at your throat.

Then-

Knock knock knock.

You froze.

So did Paul. The air in the car went taut, humid with breath and sex and tension. Your body was still trembling in his lap, raw and twitching from the orgasm that hadn’t quite let you go yet. His cock was still inside you, softening but sticky, and your limbs weren’t moving. Couldn’t. Your head slumped forward into the crook of his neck, too boneless, too spent to register anything except the sharp spike of panic lighting up your skin.

Another knock. Harder this time. A muffled voice came through the fogged glass.

“Paul? Y’in there?”

...

“Jesus Christ,” Paul hissed under his breath, eyes going wide with horror. “It’s Ringo.”

You didn’t even react. Couldn’t lift your head. Your cheek was stuck to the sweaty warmth of his collarbone, legs still bracketing his hips, slick dripping slowly from where you were joined, obscene and heavy in the air between you. Paul swore again, harsher, under his breath, then suddenly moved fast, his hands sliding under your thighs, lifting you gently, shifting your spent body to the bench beside him. You whimpered at the slide, the fullness leaving you, his come spilling from you onto the seat with a wet little shhlp that made him wince.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured, more to himself than you, really, his voice barely audible over the frantic scuffling in the back. He reached behind the seat with one arm, shoving aside a pile of jackets, vinyl sleeves, a crumpled scarf, and came up with an old wool blanket, navy blue and pilled from years of being kicked around under his gear.

He threw it over both of you, yanking it high to cover your lower half, and himself. Tucked it under your legs, pulled it up to your hips, then leaned across and yanked the hem of your coat down too, so nothing was visible. No bare skin, no flushed inner thighs, no mess between them. His hands were shaking.

Another knock.

“Paul,” Ringo called again, a little louder now. “Y’dead in there, or just sulking?”

Paul rolled the window down two inches. Just enough to speak. A blast of cold air hit the inside of the car like a slap. Your breath fogged instantly. You flinched under the blanket, still barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Ringo,” Paul said, too casual. Too late. His voice cracked on the second syllable. “What’re you doin’?”

“Could ask you the same,” Ringo’s voice came back, amused. “Didn’t think you were still here. Was about to nick your fags.”

Paul cleared his throat. “Yeah, no, I was, uh, just restin’.”

“Restin’.” The shape of his smirk was audible. “Alone?”

And then, nothing. Or maybe not nothing, but certainly nothing that mattered. The rest of their conversation, which seemed important, faded into background, like rain on a roof you weren’t under. The car felt warmer, smaller, more private than ever. Your ears buzzed with blood and the aftermath of too much feeling, your thighs sticky under the blanket, heartbeat a slow throb between them.

Paul’s hand slid slightly higher again, tracing the warm curve where your legs met. He was still talking to Ringo, but it might as well have been underwater. Distant. Unimportant.

The blanket had slipped a little. His palm stayed, heat soaking into your thigh, fingers idly stroking like he didn’t want to stop touching you, like he didn’t know how. You stayed slumped against him, breath low, every part of you soft, pliant.

His chest rose and fell beneath your cheek. His voice faded entirely.

You weren’t listening anymore.

After a bit,

“Y’still with me, love?”

You made a noise. Barely audible.

He grinned. Crooked. Rueful. “Better hold me tighter, then. ‘Cause I’ve got about ten minutes before someone else comes knockin’.”

You blinked, tongue too heavy to speak. He sighed, pulled the blanket up higher around your shoulders, then kissed your hair.

taglist: @sharksausages, @wavvytin, @wimpyvamps, @finallyforgotten, @lennongirlieee, @alanangels

[skulla-rxcks]

Backstage noises

Paring: idol!Bang Chan x staff!fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected, bjs, praise

As a staff member you get told to investigate some strange noises coming from the dressing room.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: this is based off one of my first skz fics called ‘unexpected activities’, but with more content and better writing! Enjoy!

“Y/n? Once you’re finished packing up those boxes could you see what those noises are coming from the dressing room? Oh, and on another note please go and find Chan, none of us have seen him in the past 20 minutes.” Felix says, walking over to me with a concerned look on his face.

“Of course!” I say. Going back to putting the equipment that was used for the performance back in boxes, and putting them in the closet for later storage.

After packing all the shit away I remember what Felix asked me; he asked me to investigate some noises and to find Chan. I make way through the backstage hallway and reach the dressing room, Felix was right. There is a strange noise, and it sounds like..a man.. moaning? Almost like someone was pleasuring themselves. But in a dressing room for some reason. Jesus Christ how horny do you have to be? I question the situation in my head before knocking on the door, there’s no answer, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peak inside, I was asked to check what it was after all. I sigh and open the door.

“s-shit I was just..” It’s Chan, he covers himself with his shirt in a panic. “you could’ve Atleast knocked..” he murmurs looking away with embarrassment as his ears turn red from being flustered from being caught.

“I did knock, three times actually. there was no answer so I thought someone was in pain and couldn’t speak.” I reply, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt.

“Yeah well….it wasn’t exactly..someone who wanted help…” His eyes drift to the floor. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it.. it’s not everyday that I walk into someone jerking themselves off.” I look up at him for a split second, his erection that he’s ‘attempting to hide’ is very visible. God I feel like a pervert for looking.

He looks down at me as well when he realized I noticed his bulge. “Uh..yeah, I mean, if you want you can maybe give me a hand..? I’m so stressed lately I can hardly c..cum.” I blush at his words, it’s strangely hot knowing that he knows it’s wrong since I’m a staff member and that’s not what I’m supposed to do but something about the risk gets me going more than I would have expected.

“Alright.” I nod, a slight smile forming on my face. “What if someone comes looking for us though?” The look on my face drops to one of concern. “I guess we’ll have to make this quick then. What are you best at? You know what I mean.” He asks me as I walk towards him. “I don’t know it depends what you want me to do..”

“Could you suck me?” Chan begs with need, his breathing slowly becoming heavier as his mind makes his cock twitch at the thought. “Okay, i doubt I’ll be any good though so don’t expect too much.” I chuckle and get on my knees, lifting his shirt up slightly to reveal his throbbing length, pre cum dripping down it.

“Shit..” he groans as I lower my mouth onto his dick, bopping my head up and down as I take him down my throat. “Yeah fuck. That’s it..” Moans and words of praise come out of his mouth, he puts his hand on the back of my head guiding me when he wants me to take him deeper, making me follow the rhythm he needs to feel good.

“I’d get you to ride me but I don’t have any protection. Can I fuck your face, pretty girl?”

I give him a thumbs up saying yes, as I can’t talk clearly due to his cock blocking my ability to talk from how far down he is inside my throat. I make eye contact with him, watching as his head falls back and listening to the noises he makes as he begins to violently buck his hips into my face, his dick going so deep I can hardly breathe, it’s amazing. “Gonna go deeper and harder, just breathe okay? Tap my thigh two times if you need me to stop.”

I hold onto his thighs for support, keeping myself on my knees as the force of his thrusts go up, making it enough for my small figure to almost fall over and loose balance. “Suck it for me. Take it deeper I know you can, wanna see your face as I stuff your pretty throat with my cock until you struggle to breathe.” Chan groans, pushing my head down onto him while he goes harder, absolutely breaking my throat. “Fucking hell.. I’m gonna cum. Drink it all up and I’ll reward you. Come on baby.” He says, breathing fast and slamming himself into me, doing one last thrust before filling my mouth with his seed, I make sure to swallow it all. After I finish swallowing he pulls out of my mouth with a wet sloppy ‘pop’ noise. I gasp for air.

“Was I okay..?” I mumble, hoping that I pleased him well. “You were more than okay. Tell me what you want as a reward, maybe… sex, head, kisses. What do you want? You deserve it.” Chan pulls me onto his lap, caressing my back.

“Dick..” I mutter into his arms. “bend over for me.” He smiles, helping position me over one of the wooden benches that were in the dressing room. Once I’m bent over I feel Chan tug my jeans down along with my panties, I let out a whimper as i feel the cold air of the room make contact with my pussy lips. “P-put it in.. I don’t care if there’s no protection just.. please!” I beg, arching my ass back. I feel him push into me, I gasp. The feeling of him stretching me out is one of the best things I’ve ever fucking felt, way better than any toy or my fingers. “So fucking tight!” He praises, pushing himself fully inside of me before starting to move, the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin. I moan as I feel his balls slap against me with each sloppy thrust, his movements become more needy and rough, his dick breaking my pussy, making it dripping wet as he goes on.

“Fuck Chris I’m gonna cum!” I cry out, hearing him chuckle in amusement as I call him by his other name.

“Want me to cum inside of you?” He asks. “No it’s.. it’s too risky.. pull out..” I add. “I’m going to.. FUCK!” My body begins shaking in pleasure as my cunt begins to tighten around him, i moan loudly as i cum around him. He pulls out after i orgasm, shooting his load all over my ass and back, before flipping me over to see my face, smiling as he sees how he ruined me. “So fucking good just for me.” He says as he grabs my chin, pulling my face towards him before kissing me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth as a result.

“Is everything okay in there? There’s more noises then before.. y/n? Did something happen?” We hear Felix call out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah don’t worry she was just helping me out with a little something..”

[eemamminy-art]

wip wednesday!!!

I was tagged by @lilas !! I'm always working on a zillion things so the hardest part is picking which thing(s) to share haha

No pressure tags: @henarikat @4th-make-quail @fuerrziah @phillypumpkin @oorangesoda @gothgarbageboy @fishyfarms @theasnewgroove @benjineedssleep @usernamemybeloathed @halixius @hullygeee @starskullz -- and anyone else who sees this and wants to share something!

This is the main thing I'd really like to finish this month:

I feel like I need to mess with the pose a little, particularly Sebastian's legs... dude is tall in my version but I fear he's displacing his hips

also some year of the otp wips for the next three months!

And under the cut I'll post a writing snippet! It's a chapter much later in my fic, chapter 65 currently if I don't keep ADDING CHAPTERS 😩😩😩 I don't think this bit reveals anything about the plot, it's a scene where Sebastian is really fucked up and turns to Mal because he has nowhere else to go:

“Are you alone?” Sebastian asked quickly. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, it’s just me here,” Mallory admitted. “Would you like to come in?”

“No, can you just come outside?” Sebastian asked hurriedly. “I want to be able to smoke while we talk.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mallory agreed, slipping on his shoes and a light hoodie before he stepped out onto the porch to meet Sebastian.

“I don’t know who else to turn to,” Sebastian admitted bitterly as he sat down on the porch steps, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter from his pockets. “And even though I know I don’t deserve it, you’ve always been good to me.”

The metal flicked as he spun the wheel of the lighter, blowing away the smoke of the first hurried drag of his cigarette in the opposite direction of Mallory as he pocketed the pack and lighter once again.

Mallory sat beside him, taking care to make sure that there was still ample space between them, his back pressed into the wooden railings of the deck. His long legs cascaded down the length of the steps, while Sebastian pulled his knees close to himself, his own equally long legs kinked up like a dead spider. One knee bounced anxiously, the wood creaking beneath them.

“Where's your boyfriend anyway?” Sebastian asked suddenly, looking around nervously as if Alex were lurking nearby waiting to ambush him. “I thought for sure he would have been here, he’s always with you.”

Only the orange and pink fading light of sunset greeted him, the silhouettes of distant fruit trees and the chicken coop which had gone quiet sat on the horizon unassumingly. A few yards away, the creek trickled and splashed lightly, and insects hummed and sang their usual songs to usher in the summer evening.

“It’s Sunday,” Mallory said simply. “He’s at home, watching sports with his grandpa like always.”

“Oh. Of course,” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I wonder what it’s like to have a family who gives a shit about you.”

Mallory frowned knowingly, making Sebastian wince. How was he so good at fucking things up? It was a talent, truly.

“Sorry,” Sebastian muttered. “I know you’ve had it rough too.”

“Maru cares about you,” Mallory reminded. “She told me so. She wishes she was closer to you.”

“She does?” Sebastian croaked, compressing himself into a somehow even smaller ball of skinny limbs. “More things I just keep fucking up, I guess.”

[jacaeryslover]

DEVOTION: a jacaerys velaryon one-shot.

༉‧₊˚. pairing: jacaerys velaryon x targtower f!reader

༉‧₊˚. based on this request:

— reader hear rumours of jace in winterfell and sara snow? maybe he reassures them that he would never could never?

.+:｡

the distance between you and jace grows larger by the minute, snow slowly landing in the far and foreign place, while all you could see and hear was the sun casting its shine upon dragonstone and the wind now blowing more than just air.

whispers travel fast, and the whispers about a certain prince having illicit affairs with a bastard of the north, the one and only sara snow weren't the exception.

you knew who you married, prince jacaerys—your nephew—was a good, loyal mal. but maybe, just maybe, temptation got the worst of him and you being miles away, couldn't do anything about it. you could not blame him, you thought, at the end of the day your family were the ones to cause this problem between kin, they are the reason jacaerys had to fly north in the first place.

leaving you alone in dragonstone.

days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and in the blink of an eye jacaerys was there in dragonstone, with you.

it was impossible for you to not feel betrayed, you missed your husband, you missed his touch, and the mere thought of another woman getting all of him, made your pure heart cry.

"my love" you said, your voice sweet but firm, trying to guard the last bit of dignity you thought you possessed, at the end of the day he was still your husband, and you were his wife, the only one he had, and the only one he needed. the future queen of the seven kingdoms.

"you're finally back. how did the north treated you? my prince"

"no need for such titles my love, i am your husband" he said, his voice tender and his eyes filled with love, those eyes who only shined for one person, the woman standing right in front of him, beautiful as ever—"and they treated me very well, dear. lord cregan stark is a honorable man, and so are his people".

"very well huh?" you manage to say, jealousy dripping behind those words.

"huh? what is it that troubles you?" your husband says, oblivious as ever.

"i heard some of the man talk about how you were with a northern bastard, sara snow, they said. and‐and i know i should trust you, because your my husband and i know you are a good man but i can't help it. and i hate to feel this way because i know you are not like that but i love you!"

"i love you so much jacaerys, more than anything" you finally say it, everything that you've been bottling inside your chest since the day he kissed you goodbye in your chambers, since the moment you heard the whispers, you finally say it all.

he takes a couple of steps forward, trying to close the space between you two—"you have my undying devotion, my love. i would never betray you, i love you".

his hands make their way to your face, his thumbs caressing your rosy cheeks, you close your eyes, feeling his love, and then you feel the way he connects his lips with yours, his way of sealing the pledge of love he just said.

.+:｡

1. oh my god, i read a lot of shit daily but i totally forgot how to write??? this is shitty ik but i really forgot a lot of words wth.

[skinteresting-enough]

This is a reminder to myself to finally (finally) start salvaging editing that story I wrote like 10 years ago, because I don't want my current job to be the only impact I've had on the world.

Working title is The Big Pop, and it's about a sick girl moving to a hospital in a faraway city to get treatment, and her and her brother adjusting to this change.

Also, the main physician treating the girl is nutso. Nobody knows where he got that word from, he probably made it up himself.

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

This post argues that most Darklina shippers ignore Alina’s lack of agency and the abusive dynamics in the series. Alina’s choices were largely controlled by powerful men — especially the Darkling — and the only real choice she made for her own happiness was to be with Mal. The Darkling manipulated, isolated, and abused her, stripping away her autonomy, especially through the amplifiers that symbolically and literally controlled her power. Even Nikolai, though seen as a fan favorite, initially approached Alina with political motives and pressured her into an alliance. Throughout the trilogy, Alina is used as a tool by various men, with Mal being the only one who loved and supported her for who she truly was, without any hidden agenda. The post critiques the romanticization of Darkling and emphasizes how Mal’s love was the only genuinely selfless and honest one in Alina’s life.

Okay, I guess this will be my essay I was going to publish anyway.

Alina Starkov and her inability to form healthy relationships

Let's put the Darkling and Nikolai aside for a moment. Yes, the only decision the famously indecisive Alina made for herself was continuously choosing Mal even though he was continuously shitting on her and not choosing her while for some reason also asking her to choose him. Why should we clap for that?

For many years now fans have been arguing about which love interest is best suited for Alina. The most objective answer to that question is none. In order to explain why first we need to dive deeper into Alina’s character and both her platonic and romantic relationships. The main problem with Alina's relationships seems to be the fact that she is an extremely passive character and rarely takes action, unless she's absolutely forced to do so. That is, if we don't count her suicide attempts. I think she is just written that way and obviously I cannot bash a fictional character for the way she is written by the author. LB's writing style there reminds me of a self-insert fan fiction from Wattpad. So Alina's lack of agency is actually the author's fault.

Of course as a typical y/n, Alina doesn't go out of her way to take action or make friends. They sort of come to her, like Marie and Nadia immediately assuming the roles of "best friend side characters in a new setting to provide exposition and gossip". The only one she seems to desperately hold onto and go to far lengths to to keep him in her life is Mal. Most of the time he doesn't even want to be there and makes that explicitly clear by weaponized incompetence: claiming that Alina doesn't need him while she consistently states that she needs him for support, not just tracking. But Mal constantly whines how he is useless, a one trick pony and the only thing he has to offer to her is tracking, even though the only thing Alina really needed, especially in the second book, is some comfort. Which ironically, Alina's proclaimed enemy - the Darkling provided. He sat with her during long nights and silently kept her company while Mal was out there drinking, gambling and sleeping with other women instead of performing his duty as Alina's captain of the guard.

Which is so bizarre. The "big bad manipulator" Darkling has plenty of alone time with her during multiple nights and never speaks to her, let alone manipulates or torments her. On the other hand, every time she interacts with Mal, they fight, he makes it about himself, asks her to make things go back to the way they were (that being her being sickly and fragile and trailing behind him like a mouse) as if she can turn back time. As if they aren't in the middle of a brewing civil war. As if Alina doesn't have a duty and a purpose for the first time in her life. Alina was overwhelmed by responsibilities she wasn't ready to take on, and her best friend Mal does the opposite of helping. He acts childishly and ignores his job instead of supporting her. Mal's big fight with Alina drives her to the point of running away aimlessly in the city in her pajamas and attempting suicide. Suicide, people. Mal is not her friend, let alone a good love interest.

It's important to remember that he didn't support her or accept her for what she was for two books straight, then made a belated 180 degree switch when the author decided that Malina would be endgame. Even the epilogue in RaR sucks. Once again, Alina is frail and strange, servants (who she now employs) don't respect her, sneer and make fun of her, while her now husband Mal turns a blind eye. Everything is back to the way it was: Mal thrives, Alina is...there, missing an essential part of herself, isolated, friendless unless her old ones visit once a year. The ending is supposed to be bittersweet, a couple who survived a war building a new life together, but I don't see the sweet part.

Alina had grown up into an extremely controlled and shut off environment. Not only did she live in a small village, she also lived in an orphanage which was basically a cult. It's crucial for development of children's minds and psych for them to have some sort of moral and core values explained and ingrained into them. Alina grew up in an orphanage where she did not have friends except Mal. Her only mother figure was an abusive hostile sexist woman. She doesn't really believe in saints and we never see her actually strive to make her country better. Her patriotism is usually out of obligation because she is stuck with her powers or because a charming person like Nikolai told her that they could do a lot of good together. Her only driving force in life is Mal. That is extremely unhealthy. 

 I do not want to blame Alina for not being an extrovert and going out of her way to make friends but I think we should acknowledge that her insecurities often get in the way of her forming relationships. She doesn't make friends in the first army because she is insecure about how small and fragile she is and maybe some people were cruel to her and if they were, it's understandable why she would be hesitant to put herself out there. But the thing is though, the very first thing we see from her, the very first words she utters are hostile towards the person who just bumped into her. Someone says to her "watch where you're going" and she snaps at him: "why don't you watch your fat feet". Well, fat shaming was certainly not necessary. She could just say "sorry" or "watch where you're going yourself" or just "piss off". She immediately retaliates to point out his "flaw" because only thing she sees in herself are her own flaws. The sentence she says after that in her inner monologue is that the soldier probably didn't expect lip from a scrawny little thing like her.

She shames others and then shames herself and the cycle repeats and it never goes anywhere. She doesn't learn to not judge herself or others and that is one of the reasons why she can't form healthy relationships. Furthermore, when she gets to the little Palace, she's prejudiced against Grisha and doesn't try to make any friends once again. As an introvert I understand why she wouldn't want to in new environment but but the smart thing would be to not be completely alone. The only "friends" she made are the ones who came up to her and literally stuck to her - Marie and Nadia, and she didn't really care about them.

Then, there's Genya. Alina finds out that Genya has been accepted into the second army and that she was a spy for the Darkling and she immediately takes it as a personal offense. In reality, Genya was a servant, a Grisha without color, so she should've seen the spy thing coming. The darkling wasn't in the little Palace most of the time so obviously he would have someone to keep an eye on her. Also she guilt-trips Genya when she doesn't immediately take Alina's side and even when we hear Genya's backstory and what she went through, Alina doesn't feel nearly as sympathetic as she should have for a friend. Why would Genya put her trust in the girl, who is allied with her abusers - the royal family, and for months didn't even care to get to know people around her, since she was only there until she could find a way to reconnect with her one sided childhood crush? Genya was well-versed in political situations and got double dose of suffering as a Grisha and as a servant, while Alina didn't even accept being Grisha. She should've known Alina wouldn't stay and bother to liberate Grisha and she didn't. She left everything up to the family who was responsible to Genya's rape for years. And Nikolai, who Alina praises to heavens and claims is the best future for Ravka, sent his rapist father to a nice luxurious retirement in the Southern colonies, as well as his mother who was equally at fault for what happened to Genya because she was the one who removed her protection from Genya and allowed the king to rape her. Alina doesn't express any concern over that, nor did she express concern when the King was in her presence and spent his days "chasing servant girls". Ew. Just ew. Alina sees what happened to Genya before her very eyes and allows it to happen. Alina is not Genya's friend.

Even in Siege and Storm, for some reason, Alina demands loyalty from Grisha who she hasn't done anything good for. What do they owe her? Alina came to the little Palace, didn't train, was prejudiced against them and they're supposed to choose her over the man who gave them shelter and trained them and kept them safe? Alina claims she does not want to be a saint or a queen or a leader one second and the next she demands unquestioning loyalty from other Grisha, as well as Nikolai's rogue Grisha and her cult. But do we really see her doing anything for them? No. When she went to the little Palace all she said is that the darkling was a psychopath and that he would take over the world, which he wasn't even planning to do. And then she threatened the remaining Grisha in the little Palace that she would have them in chains if they didn't listen to her. Imagine if the Darkling did that. She never really befriends the Grisha that stuck with her. When the inferni Hershaw shares his backstory and tells them how in the Wandering Isle people crack Grishas' heads open because they believe that their blood has magical properties, even brash Zoya is appalled and expresses her condolences. Meanwhile all Alina thinks about is herself, that Hershaw sharing his backstory means that he will place his hope for a better world for Grisha in Alina now and how she doesn't want that kind of responsibility.

The point is that Alina never goes through the steps that are required to make a friend, but when she needs one, she always demands to have them there at her beck and call. Otherwise they are a terrible person, a traitor for not being on her side and the Darkling's puppet.

Even the Darkling, who wasn't in the little Palace most of the time, who always traveled across the whole country to various military points to ensure that the borders were controlled, a person who couldn't allow anyone to get close to him, who had to remain professional with everyone, who couldn't let anyone know that he was an amplifier, still had more friends than Alina who he encouraged to make friends. He had his personal guard - the Oprichniki, and a few heartrenders he was close to, like Ivan for example. Alina only has a few Grisha during the trilogy whose names we even find out and she never even checked up on them. When they come to her with their grievances Alina never takes the opportunity to grow closer with them. No, it's always about Mal, who's doing just fine without her but will complain how she's not paying attention to him.

 Now, as for the Darkling, her interactions with him are very open in Shadow and Bone. It's just good communication between them when he was in the little Palace. They talked, Alina wallowed in her insecurities and he actually found her sour humor funny, which was very cute. And he did his best to answer her questions and ease her worries. He literally told her he was over 120 years old, that had been waiting for her for a long time, that he finally felt a connection with someone. And here's the thing: Alina never outwardly rejected his advances. She told him he was no longer alone, that he had her, the damned kiss was consensual. And then Alina runs away with Mal and goes back to every prejudice she initially had about him. What is he supposed to feel? He tries to get her back. And he bargains and shows he's willing to negotiate even after she screwed up his carefully planned coup. He even says that he doesn't mind her thing with Mal because he will die eventually or she will find out that it won't work out with him. The Darkling's primary goal wasn't "manipulating" or "possessing'' Alina, it was saving Ravka from collapsing. But over the next two books, she refuses to look at the big picture and properly address the problems which darkling is trying to fix. If only Alina actually talked to him instead of throwing baseless accusations every five seconds. She could literally call him anytime through the tether, he visited her all the time and she just refused to communicate. If she no longer wanted a relationship with him, she could at least speak to him about serious matters, like avoiding the civil war the country clearly couldn't take.

Her relationship with Nikolai was not genuine. Did it have potential to actually become genuine if they acknowledged each other’s flaws? Yes. But Alina justified Nikolai’s selfish ambitions as him trying to do what’s best for Ravka while never granting the Darkling the same leniency. She is appalled at Darkling’s willingness to kill the Grisha who turned on him after he asked him to not make him to do it and not to start an actual civil war but is okay with Nikolai sacrificing the Grisha loyal to Alina to get himself on the throne. What’s the difference between Nikolai’s and the Darkling’s relationship to Alina? Nikolai presents himself better in order to stay in her good graces. The Darkling is a general, Nikolai is a politician. The Dakling told her how it was, what he had to do, and Alina couldn’t handle the ugly truth. In both Shadow and Bone and Siege and Storm, we see the Darkling call her out numerous times, asking her the real questions: 

Why would she run without giving him a chance to explain himself? (She was still prejudiced against him and didn’t view him as an actual human being even after how much kindness he had shown her)

What was her long-term plan? (She didn’t have one)

Did she really want Mal or Nikolai? (She wasn’t sure)

Nikolai never bothered her with such difficult questions. He was all too glad to prance her around, use her as a political tool, be charming to her and show her a glimpse of a wounded boy with a dream. Funny how fans call the Darkling the manipulator when all he had was a strategy to help Grisha, and yes, for that he needed Alina’s power. He actually risked his plan at the winter fete with his flustered flirting. You’d think he’d be better at it, and perhaps he could be, but he was actually too honest and hopeful too soon.

Meanwhile, Nikolai needed Alina for his image, to strengthen his claim to the throne even though legally he had no right to it. Who is truly the selfish one here? Nikolai kissed her in public without consent and then shoved her into a carriage, practically trapped her in an engagement…Do we really believe he wouldn’t expect her to be involved in politics, uphold their image as King as Queen and for her to birth an heir? The Darkling put a collar on her because she ran away, ignored her duty and responsibilities to her people and her country, and screwed up his carefully planned coup. And because she needed the amplifiers because she didn't train and couldn't to anything without them. I will not hear the degrading “she was just a girl” as an excuse. It’s an explanation, sure, but not an excuse. She was an adult, she was a soldier, and her running away and refusing to cooperate was the equivalent of someone stealing the nuclear codes and the only cure to the land of Chernobyl infested with zombies. She was considered a saint as soon as she was discovered for that very reason, because she was crucial to any sort of plan for Ravka. Nikolai and Darkling have lots of similarities in that regard. They claim everything they do, they do it for Ravka. 

[itsss4t4n]

How long is Forever? - Harry Hook x daughter of alice in wonderland

Headcanons but the longer version of this post:

a/n: this is based more on tim burtons aiw adaptation as it is the only one that i know, and i might have misremembered some of the story/ characters so i apologize if its inaccurate to wonderland or its characters in any way. I got way to invested in creating the character and story and almost forgot that that wasnt the point. At some point i think the character just completely changes and i low key hate it. Im really bad at writing headcannons instead of full fledged fics.

Trigger warnings: fighting, she /her pronouns used, slight angst toward the end but happy ending, not proofread

-being alices daughter you are considered kind of weird by the aks, (think luna lovegood), you are kind of dreamy and constantly in your own thoughts but you still have a very strong own opinion on everything. You say what you think even if others might not like that. 

-You also have a very different sense of style than most girls in auradon. You played alot with different colours and textures always looking slightly crazy (you took inspiration from your godfather, the mad hatter). Your blonde hair was cut to a short messy bob with short bangs, and always changing coloured streaks throughout.

-you dont have the same view of good and bad as most others , and you dont think the vks should be judged by what their parents did and immediately try to befriend them and continuesly defend them

-when mal runs away to the isle you insist on joining the other vks and ben, as you do well in new and different invironments and later because you are an incredible sword fighter, your mother having thought you all she knows, just in case you ever needed to fight a jabberwookie type beast yourself.

-Due to your personal style not being very auradon, you didnt really have to disguise as much as ben when going to the isle. 

-On the isle you felt surprisingly comfortable, as you liked the weird and almost liminal athmosphere that it had 

-the first time you met harry was right after bens kidnapping, when harry came to tell you all about it.

-Harry has this theatrical almost a little eccentric way of talking and moving, which intruiged you pretty quickly. Of course , You didnt like or trust him, he did just kidnap one of your best friends, but you were intruiged non the less.

"And who is this little lassy?"

You told him your name with a glint of interest and mischif in your eyes. "Daughter of Alice in Wonderland."

"How interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing. Whats your Name?"

"Harry Hook." He introduced himself with adramatic bow, before making fun of jay and barking at carlos.

- The other three had watched the interaction in confusion and wonder. They knew you were a little odd but seeming this confortable with harry after knowing what he did to ben?

"What was that?!" 

"What?" 

"Dont be nice to hook! He just kidnapped your best friend!"

"yea.. But he is quite interesting." And as an afterthougt: "and kind of pretty dont you think?"

"NO! Concentrate please. He is the enemie alright?!"

"Yea whatever, lets go tell mal about this shit."

-You go with Mal and evie to see dizzy, and instantly get along.

-Later while Mal and Uma are talking (singing), you cant help your eyes from glancing over at harry every few seconds. He did look good, with his red coat, the old silver jook on his left hand, and the messy black eyeshadow around his striking blue eyes.

"He is really beutiful dont you think?" That question was mostly directed towards evie who just shot you a dissapproving look. "I'm just saying. purely aesthetically."

-You simply shrugged and watched the situation continue to unfold, swordhand on the hilt of your sword at your side. When the fight breaks out you stand against harry. For better of for forse.

"Hello Pretty boy." You raise you swordand get into a defensive position.

"Wonderland girl."

-You kept making little comments about his looks and his sword fighting which he of course returned in his own flirty way. You quite enjoyed going back and forth like that. Witty comments, smirks and flirty smiles, and fighting more for show at this point instead of actually trying to beat each other. Trying to make this surprisingly pleasant moment last as long as possible.

-until you heard an urgend shout of your name from Mal.

"Sorry in advance." In a quick movement you snatched harrys hook and threw it down into the water. Before a shoked Harry can jump after it you catch his arm and talk to him in a slightly hushed voice.

"I really hope this wasnt our last meeting pretty boy." Before running off with the others.

-You dont see each other again until Audrey turns evil, but you do still think about harry. Is it stupid considering you met like twice and he was you enemy? Yea. Did you care? not really. He was georgeous, funny, good with a sword. Your dream guy. Except for the fact that he was supposedly your enemy. but then again when had you ever cared about that kinda stuff.

-His black lined blue piercing eyes were burned into your brain.

-In the six months until you saw him again you had become mal and bens unofficial bodyguard, spening most of your time with them or with evie, your sword has taken permanent residence at your side, only taking it of to sleep or shower and even then it was always in grabbing distance. Mals paranoia about uma had actually started to get to you.

-You are at evies house when audrey shows up and spells mal. You join them in going back to the isle to retrieve hades ember.

-When your bikes get stolen you cant help but smile at the sight. Yea its shitty but he is still beautiful.

"Pretty boy!"

He drawls you name in his scottish accent and you mentally swoon.

"Thats my bike!"

"Oh yea? Come and get it back then." Before driving of.

-You run after them (except mal and celia ofc),and at one point you split upbecause the boys on the bikes did so. You follow harry and when the others are out of sight he slows to a stop. You catch up to him with a grin.

"Nice to see you again Hook. I was hoping we would meet again."

"I was too Lassie."

-The next 10-ish minutes are filled with flirty banter and tales of what happened in the last six months. It felt like you've known each other for years (as clichee as that sounds). 

-You almost forgot why you were there until you heard jay shouting your name.

"Where are you, Mal got the thing come on."

You quickly turn to Harry again.

"Go! Before they see you and make it a whole thing."

"What bout your bike?"

"Keep it pretty boy, i doubt the others got theirs back so it would be weird if i did."

With a last sly grin harry leans towards you "I will see you again very soon." 

Before you could question what 'very soon' meant, he had already driven of. 

Just in time because Jay and the others turned the corner behind you.

"There you are! What are you doing? come on!"

"Sorry. Was chasing after the bike." You Give them a small smile before walking past them. "You coming?"

-To say you were surprised when harry and gil jumped through the barries after them would be an understatement.

"Pretty boy?!"

"'ello Darling. we're just coming for a wee visit" 

-You tried , just like evie, to get the two groups to work together. Harry mostly walked next to you or Uma. At some point you hung back so he culd walk in between you and doesnt have to kep switching. He caught up with uma but still kept the constant flirts towards you up.

-Everyone was really confused on why you two seemed so good and almost comfortable around each other, not to mention the flirting. Evie was the only one who knew of your little crush so she send you a few knowing smirks.

-During the knight fight you and harry fought as a team. Incedibly well might i say. 

-You were somewhat enthusiastic about evies icebreaker idea, enjoying the idea that the two groups could finally work together.

"Harry great accent."

"Shes right. It is a good accent."

-The flirting just wouldnt stop, comments thrown at each other, bumping shoulders while walking, even brushing your hands against each others on occasion. You had joined the boys in looking for ben.

"To make sure jay and harry dont kill each other."

-Gil doing the icebreaker and bonding with jay. 

meanwhile you and harry in the background:

"We should do that icebreaker pretty boy."

"oh yea?"

"Yea. You've got really pretty eyes."

"And you are really good with a sword lass." His hook just slightly gracing your cheek before something in gil and jays conversation sparks his interest.

-When finding ben you had immediately pushed harry behind you and unsheathed your sword out of instinct. Jay has to pull both of you out of bens way because both of you got distrcated by how close you were standing to each other. After making sure ben was alright you made sure harry was too.

(instead of flirting with jane he flirts with you)

"Well well well, thank you for trying to protect me there darling." The hook was under you chin this time.

"No problem pretty boy." You smirk back.

Ben had his little freak out. Jay and carlos had one too for slightly different reasons.

"when did this happen? you and hook?"

You just shrugged and started walking off.

The boys just looked at eachother thouroghly confused.

-After everyone reuniting and you secretely updating evie on the harry situation you all made your way to fairy cottage. When you found chad you had to half hide in harrys shoulder to hide your laughter because god was it good to see chad taken down a few pecks like that.

-Then Mal dropped the bomb. Closing the barrier forever. You couldnt believe it. You were always a firm believer in the vk programm. And you had honestly hoped that even if harry etc were send back, they would get out someday, or you might go visit them. You considered them freinds at that point. But now that wasnt possible.  You tried to comfort harry and uma in some way but it was to no avail.

"Im so sorry you guys... I didnt know." You had tears in your eyes yourself.

"Dont worry about it Darling. Its nae your fault." Placing his hand, his actual hand, on your cheek for a second, to wipe away the tear that had fallen. Before he walked of with uma.

"Harry....."

Mal was shocked to see your tears at the fact that harry was leaving. she had absolutely no idea this was a thing. It wasnt really. you didnt have enough time for it to actually become a thing. You watched harry and uma leave before evie walked up to you to hug you. 

She talked to mal but you didnt want to listen.

suddenly there was a bright light before it went dark for a bit. When you came to again, Mal was gone. It didnt take you guys long to piece together what must have happened. so you went to find mal.

-You and harry were both incredibly relieved to see that the other was okay. *cue big hug and an almost kiss that turned into a kind of awkward cheek kiss before another hug * 

-Harry announcing that he is actually going back to the isle felt like another punch in the gut. Again that sounds dumb considereing how little you actually knew each other but you didnt care. 

-Harry and you talked before he left. He gave you one of his rings "so you wont forget me darling". So you give him one of yours "then dont you forget me either". *cue more crying and hugs, between all of you *

-Mal announcing that the barrier will be taken down during the engagement party was the best thing that couldve happened to you at that point.

"Looks like you get a chance with your pretty boy after all." Evie.

Uma to harry on the isle: "Now you can get your pretty girl, pretty boy." While bumbing his shoulder.

As soon as you could spot eachother on the bridge you ran into each others arms.

-Kith

-like a lot of em

-Your friends from both sides were incredibly happy for both of you.

[maladaptivedaydreamerlala]

This is gonna piss some people off but I’m going to say it

The most toxic fandom I have every encountered is the Grishaverse: specifically the Six of Crows fandom

I am a die heart fan of the Grishaverse books. I admittedly enjoy shadow and bone more than the six of crows duology but when I first t read those books I was consumed.

I loved the characters the storyline everything. I loved both and I didn’t see the problem in that. I enjoyed the fandom for a while but everywhere I went people were always pitting characters and books against eachother.

I understand that for a large part people enjoy the duology more I get that. It’s more popular and more widely enjoyed and I have no problem with that, I enjoy those books as well.

But for some reason the duology fans shove it down the fandoms throats. The amount of hate and mock towards the grisha trilogy took me back. People saying how poorly written and awful they are (which I have analyzed this text to death and it is both true and false, every argument has its points and the same can be said for six of crows - but their usually not talking about actual analysis they just don’t enjoy the plot as much)

However the degree it was shit on made me feel guilty for liking it, I thought that I was wrong for enjoying it, and while yes the plot and world may not be as coherent, it does still have very good writing, and the duology suffers from similar problems.

But the amount that the fandom hates on all of the characters!!! It’s insane.

Not only that but people being like “it’s so boring it’s awful I hate it.” You have your opinion you can express it I understand this but when there are literally people who dnfs the first book and then try to go argue with people about the storylines and characters about who they are. NO you don’t get to do that. You have Tory option to a degree but at some point it becomes house.

The amount of sheer hate for the characters and ships and the fans of those characters and ships is actually insane! I’ve seen death threats against Darklina fans. Like what the actual fuck.

As for fans of the main trilogy is a 50/50. I would say a predominant part of the fandom is either pro darkling or Darklina, or they love the books but are also accepting of it faults - like me.

I actually can’t remember the last time I saw someone post something about likening l Mal or that Alina had a happy ending or anything positive from a different point of view. Everytime someone with a conflicting view point posts something it’s never a positive it’s always just saying how “wrong” that side of the fandom is or how “toxic” they are or just hating and tearing them down.

(I feel like most the people who did enjoy the main trilogy and it on this side of the view have now focused on the RoW duology because it’s more accepted to like it and everything been so retconned)

But back to SoC fans the absolute god-complex-ego the fans of this duology have about these books and its characters are insane.

And honestly it makes me sad because it’s made me enjoy the books and characters less.

I really loved them and now everytime I see anything about them it just leaves me anxious with a bad taste in my mouth.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Fandoms are a place where all people who enjoy something can come together and discuss it. Whether you have varying views is irrelevant. But the key point is that you enjoy it.

I have to keep this in mind whenever I’m in a fandom and I see someone post something that I incredibly disagree with. And I have a habit of loving unpopular characters so I see a lot of hate in the fandoms for them. I remember that this is their option and I have my own.

I’m not trying to say if you dislike something you can’t or shouldn’t talk about it just that this is a really good example of how turned off people can become by a fandom. the gatekeeping, the toxic hate, again mostly from the crows fans but also from the grishaverse as a whole.

This is also NOT me hating on the SoC duology or is characters I like them I like the books I just have to separate them from the fandom which at times is hard.

I love the grishaverse, and admittedly i am a Darkling fan, I enjoy his character as I think its one of the best written ones in the Grishaverse.

The things told to me just for enjoying a book and a fictitious character and the things I see people say to others is absolutely horrifying.

as much as i enjoy these books (and am willing to admit their faults) their are very few people's posts I follow and read within the fandom because of this.

Again I know SO MANY people are gonna come after me for this post. Predominately the last three paragraphs but it is what it is - and it’s the truth.

[miquella-everywhere]

I 100% refuse to believe that Miquella charmed Mohg into kidnapping him from the Haligtree. It makes absolutely no sense.

Thanks to the DLC the timeline of the kidnapping is completely screwed up but we know that Miquella was there at the Battle of Aeonia for some stupid reason, and when it was over and Malenia bloomed he likely travelled back to the Haligtree along with Finlay and then embedded himself into the Haligtree for a reason that the dlc tossed out the fucking window. (also mal apparently allowed this shit to happen because now she was there when miq got taken, and yet she's still reaching towards miqs spot longingly like he's still there, but only wakes up when our sorry ass shows up like HUNH????)

Also when it comes to Miquella embedding himself into the Haligtree it's evident that he was in there for a while because the Haligtree grew enough to the point that its roots were breaking through walls of Elphael and making several places inaccessible because of them. And the moment that Miquella was ripped from its core that is when the Haligtree stopped growing and began to die.

And now because of this timeline and a complete lack of evidence otherwise; there was absolutely no contact between Miquella and Mohg between that time, and with the way Miqs charm works, it can only be applied if you are in direct contact with Miquella.

And as the DLC spells out Miquella's charm acts as a type of calming spell, it curbs peoples violent intentions and subdues unpleasant memories as seen with Leda and Thiollier. Miquella's charm and intentions are 100% orientated towards keeping peace as much as possible and it is not straight up mind control (at least not until he ascends to godhood possibly but that can be debated)

Now did Miq charm Mohg? Yeah, he did, and it was definitely in self defense as anyone would do with being kidnapped. Mohg was already established as a serial kidnapper and a madman in the base game and his grandeur delusions of having a Dynasty of Blood are all him, and once again, Miquella's charm specifically subdues violent intentions and Miquella himself wants peace and as little conflict as possible. So then going into the Mohgwyn Dynasty and seeing all of the blood swamps, piles of corpses, and even his own nobles hanging from pikes, these are all 100% Mohg being a freaky dude. And honestly without Miquella's charm in place, Mohg would have been 100% worse.

And once more, it makes absolutely no goddamn sense that Miquella wanted to be kidnapped. Because why. Why why why on earth would Miquella put so much effort into growing the Haligtree with his own blood, embedding himself into it, just to want to get kidnapped. It makes no sense. If Miquella truly needed Mohg to get to the RoS(and even then that plot point isn't even explained how tf thats possible) why the hell did he even bother with embedding himself into the Haligtree to begin with?

This writing makes absolutely no fucking sense. 😔😔😔😔

[possiblyawesometmblr]

If you had to pick one song for each of your characters from their official playlist (if they have one, if not songs in general) to describe them, what songs would they be?

ooooooh oh this is a hard one. almost every song i throw onto a playlist is there for a reason but i'm gonna DO MY BEST here we go:

arisanna: home (beetlejuice cast recording) - i swear to god every day i am surprised i didn't write her specifically after this song. i like this one even better than dead mom for her overall because dead mom feels more angry, whereas this one feels like desperation and defeat that turns into acceptance. love the arc of this song and thinking about it in an ari context makes me want to cry so hard.

sylph: i love it (icona pop) - not ONLY does this one have sylph vibes in terms of lyrics, but it's funky 2010s dubstep pop. that's so them it hurts. sylph only listens to the most insane pop music of 2010-2014 i truly believe that in my heart

owen: waving through a window (dear evan hansen cast recording) - another win for the broadway bitches. perfect for him both in life and in death, honestly. i particularly love the "did I even make a sound? it's like I never made a sound, will I ever make a sound?" for him because of the idea that his life ended so fast he never got to do anything with it. also, similar to ari, this is a song with so much desperation in it.

rowan: pink pony club (chappell roan) - i actually can't get too much into this one without spoiling things, but know that this song is her to the core. rowan is in fact a chappell roan girly

mal: r.i.p. 2 my youth (the neighborhood) - so this guy doesn't have a playlist yet but something about this song really speaks to me for him. he's gone through some SHIT and i can't wait to get into it in future campaign sessions :D