#some of these are writing songs that i play on loop in the background

[thebroccolination]

Playlist Meme

Tagged by @nejineeee!

Rules: You can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, and then tag 10 people.

By Your Side - Jonas Blue, RAYE

Bittersweet Symphony - The Crown Soundtrack (they did a special remix for the trailer and it's all cinematic and atmospheric)

Free Them (feat. Teddy Swims) - ONE OK ROCK

โชคดีแค่ไหน (The Luckiest Boy) Boy Sompob

Somewhere Only We Know (feat. Darren Criss) - Glee Cast

Escape This Moment - Lightscape

Let Me Let You Go - ONE OK ROCK

I'm Alive - Celine Dion

Drove You Away - Fly By Midnight

You Set Me Free - Michelle Branch

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I have a request if you're taking any. A Jake Lockley x fem!reader. The reader is dating them but is kind of scared of Jake (is very quiet and weary around him, doesn't like his physical touch) because he was cold and mean to her when they first met (he wanted to "protect" Steven) but now all he wants is to hold and love her. The opportunity finally arrives when she's sick and needs his help. (He forcefully fronts bc he's not letting this opportunity go to waste)

Of course! Thank you so much for the ask!

Ahhh, this one got away from me a bit. (And did a bit of it's own thing) I went in to write some angst with Jake and just ended up writing soft!Jake (again, because I can't help myself.) I hope this is okay!

Embrace

Jake Lockley X F!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: Overuse of railroad sentences, typos, hurt/comfort, previous Jake & reader not getting along, sick!reader, fluff, implied Steven x reader and Marc x reader, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 1789

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He can’t stop playing it over and over again in his mind. The image looping in a relentless merry-go-round. 

A light touch. His gloved fingertips barely skimming your skin as he tapped you on the arm. A gentle warning that he-they were back. 

You’d had your headphones on as you did the washing up, miming along a song whose beat bled out into the air around you. 

It was like you had known it was him on some subconscious level even before he reached you. 

Your reaction was etched into his skin, carved behind his eyelids. The flinch. The instinctive movement away from him. It was like a knife hacking the flesh away from his chest. 

You had looked at him as you paused your music. Your eyes a little wide and weary before you gave him a small smile. “Am I in the way?” 

The air had stuck in his throat, crushing him under the weight of his breath.

Jake didn’t trust his voice, not in that moment. He swallowed and shook his head. 

You nodded, looking at his hands instead of his face and went back to the washing up. You didn’t turn your music back on. 

.

It had been his fault. Jake knew that. He had been more than distant, cold, purposely keeping you further than an arm’s length and trying to drag Marc and Steven away from you as well. 

You had been a stranger. A danger. A variable that he couldn’t keep a constant eye on. 

There was a small mix up, some bad intel when Jake went out of his way to check on your background - just in case - by the time he realised that he had been working on the wrong information the damage was done. 

.

Jake watched in the background as Steven travelled home, keeping quiet as Marc and Steven talked. They had taken to wearing large over the ear headphones so that they could speak freely in public and look like they were just on the phone. Not that anyone in London would even notice if they were talking to themselves or not. 

He had stayed quiet as Steven showered and got changed, as Marc hoovered and then washed the leftover morning dishes. 

He didn’t even interject in the discussion of what to make for dinner, which was quickly becoming a squabble. 

It was only interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and you shuffling into the flat. 

But your doorsteps, they sounded… wrong. Too heavy and laboured, missing the normal bounce to your step. 

Marc was about to call out a greeting when Jake pushed to the front, cutting off his words before he had even opened his mouth. 

‘Jake!’ Marc’s voice was loud, but fading as he fell back. 

As Steven spoke at the exact same time. ‘Mate, you can’t just do that-” 

“Something’s wrong.” Jake muttered, his muscles tense. He moved towards the front door, keeping his footsteps light and making the minimal amount of possible sound. He stopped when you came into view.

You were slouched on the settee, crumpled up and drawn in on yourself. Your work bag was still on your lap, your coat and shoes on. Eyes shut. 

There was a horrible twist in his stomach, a wave of panic that buzzed across every nerve. You were hurt. 

He rushed forward, all previous grace forgotten.

You didn’t open your eyes until he put a hand firmly on your shoulder, an action that was worrying enough, “where are you injured?” He frowned deeply, trying to scan you over for any bruising or open wounds. 

“What, I’m not,” your voice came out all stuffy. Bunked up and a little garbled as if you’d just been woken from sleep. 

Realisation dawned.  You were sick, not hurt. He should pull back. He should get Steven or Marc, let them help you. That’s what you would want. 

“I’m just a bit,” your eyes were glassy, your reactions a little delayed. You motioned to your head with your hands. “Cotton wool-y.”

Jake put his hand on your forehead, you were burning hot.

He tutted and knelt down on the ground and began to take off your shoes. Quick and precise in his movements. 

You frowned. Your mind slowly catching up. “Jake?” 

He didn’t pause, didn’t answer. But swallowed when you stiffened slightly. 

“You don’t need to do that.” You whispered.

Jake continued, focused on his task, his warm hand on your calf as he eased your foot out of your boot and placed it carefully on the side before he started on the other. 

You cleared your throat. “You don’t have to.”

He set your other boot next to the first and slowly stood. His movements were slow, precise, careful to not surprise you. As if you were some wild skittish animal that could be spooked by the smallest thing. 

Jake took your work bag from your lap and hung it up on the side, where you liked to keep it. You followed his movements, nerves eating into your stomach. He didn’t have to do this. You were sure he didn’t want to do this. You were nothing more than a burden to him, an annoyance that he had to put up with for Marc and Steven’s sake. You-

“Come on,” he spoke softly, his eyes still downcast as he lent down towards you, gently taking your hands in his to help you to stand. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

“Jake,” the urge to pull your hands back, away from his touch was so strong, but you let him help you up. 

He ignored your words, wrapping one arm around your shoulders, his other hand on your arm as he began to guide you to the bedroom. 

“Jake,”

He stared at his feet,his lips pressed together into a tight line. His long, dark eyelashes were almost kissing his skin in his determination not to catch your gaze. 

“Jake.” You stopped, forcing Jake to as well. Your voice cracked as you spoke, your throat sore and aching. You swallowed. “I don’t need you to do this.”

He looked at you then.

You were expecting to see relief on his face. A nod. For his hands to leave you so that he could go about his evening without having to carry the burden of caring about you for his alter’s sake. 

Instead, his expression made a sharp cut of emotion sink into your chest. 

He stared at you with glassy eyes, his mouth slightly parted. He looked crestfallen. He looked heartbroken.

You didn’t know what to do.

There was a long moment before he spoke. “Please.”

You frowned in confusion. 

“Please,” he repeated. “Please let me look after you.” “Please don’t,” he glanced down again and screwed up his eyes, clenching his jaw and dropping his arms to his sides. Your skin was cold without his heat.

Slowly, you reached out and took his hand. A light touch as you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his. He squeezed back tightly. 

“Please let me look after you.” Jake whispered. “Please.”

You cupped his cheek with your free hand and he lent into it without hesitation, closing his eyes and breathing out heavily. As if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. 

“Jake?” 

He opened his eyes, a painful vulnerability dancing in them. 

“Please look after me.” You whispered. 

He smiled, the expression lighting up his whole face in one glorious moment. You’d never seen him smile like that before. 

He led you to bed, only leaving so that you could get changed into your pyjamas. He came back, calling out to you at first to check that you had finished changing your clothes, with his arms full. He carefully placed a new box of tissues and a packet of strepsils on your bedside table, along with some paracetamol and a cooling gel pack that was intended for headaches - explaining that it was Steven’s and he didn’t know if it would be helpful. 

You beamed at him as you sat up in bed, but didn’t get a chance to thank him as Jake rushed out of the room again, coming back quickly with your favourite mug. Steam wafted out of it. 

“It’s ginger,” he said, adding it to the collection on your bedside table, and making sure it sat perfectly in the middle of the coaster. “With some honey, it should help your throat. I can hear that you're a bit croaky.”

The honey touched your heart. There was only one pot of it in the flat, Jake’s vitamin honey that you had never touched. The honey that he refused to share with Marc or Steven, even going to the extent of hiding it. It was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself. 

“Jake,” you spoke so softly you were surprised he heard you. “Thank you.”

He fiddled with his hands, another little smile pulling at his lips. “It’s nothing.”

You shook your head, leaning a little to reach out to take his hand. He reacted straight away, moving towards your touch so that you didn’t have to disrupt your comfort. He sat lightly on the very edge of the mattress when you urged him to, taking your hand in his and running your thumb over his skin in a soothing pattern. 

Jake watched you, mesmerised. Your touch was for him, he wasn’t watching through Marc or Steven. It was his. 

“I’m honoured you know.” You said with a smile. “Letting me have some of your honey.” 

A small flush crept along his skin. For a moment he thought about lying, about saying that there was another jar. He swallowed and spoke quietly. “You’re more important than the honey.”

You didn’t know what to say, words wouldn’t form. 

Slowly, so carefully as if he was now the easily startled wild animal, you leant forward and wrapped your arms around him. You gave Jake plenty of time to move away, to back off. Instead he rushed towards it, quickly embracing you back and just melting into the hug. 

He tucked his head into your neck and breathed out a shaky breath. 

You could feel the tension in his arms, the strain running just under his skin as he fought the urge to hold you tighter, to press you closer to every inch of his body. 

You shifted backwards, laying down, and pulled him with you, urging him to follow. He clutched you tightly, and moved, shifting only slightly so that he was laying next to you and not on top of you. 

He let out the sweetest sigh of content as you coax him to lay his head on your chest and ran your fingers through his hair, still holding you tight. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses @welcometostayingawake @melodygatesauthor @romanarose @mbakubabe

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains violence, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

This idea came to me while I was running and I had to write it down.

Just a short story that will have a sequel, I guess.

The story is inspired by this manhwa: https://cloudrecess.io/manga/dreadful-night

If you can, read it, it's great!

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You stare out of the car window with glassy eyes, and although it's not the first time that the lush green of the forest bathed in the light of the setting sun slips by on the horizon, it still manages to put the tension back into your stomach every single time. The peace out there could lull anyone into a false sense of security. But not you. It can't fool you anymore.

The same female voice comes from the radio, and you already know every single word of that damned song by heart. But even if you would show your displeasure, even if your companion sitting in the passenger seat would look for another radio station, the next time still the same godforsaken music would be playing. This is the background noise every time you return to the starting point, and it has almost become a habit that this melodic introduction starts your suffering all over again.

At first, as you woke up from your slumber in the back seat, the unfamiliar surroundings made you feel as though the vague world of your dreams had bled into reality, and now you found yourself in some bizarre fairy tale. But this is the twenty-second time that you come to your senses in the vehicle moving down the bumpy forest road, and you slowly start to get used to the stomach-turning cheerfulness repeated in a loop, which welcomes you every single time. And it was enough for you to feel the metallic taste of the blood filling your mouth once, and find yourself here again after feeling the icy pain of the knife slitting your throat, to understand that you are not in reality. Although the rough material for your jeans under your fingers, the floral scent of the perfume in the car, and the bitter taste of stomach acid creeping into your mouth seem perfectly real, just like the agony of your latest death, but you've learned that it's all just an appearance. An illusion. In which you have been imprisoned for weeks, and for exactly that long you are forced to die again and again, because you won't escape until you finally find the way out at the end of the mysteries that keep multiplying.

You don't know how you got here, but that doesn't matter anymore. The important thing is that you’re stuck in a game, and you have to find out how to get out of it before this madness consumes the last shred of your sanity.

A loud laughter comes from the front, the blonde girl sitting behind the wheel recounts with a grin, how her ex-boyfriend tried to perform an erotic dance to this song, and how it ended in a late-night visit to the ER. Pam is that typical obligatory extroverted character, whose only role in such games is to be brutally murdered when she's about to get naughty with someone. She's a nice but stupid girl, and it's not her fault that whoever created her intended her to have this tragic end.

Rebecca, your other companion, who only laughs at Pam's story while sitting in the passenger seat, shily hides the blush rising on her face with her hand. And although she's a charming girl, you've seen her bloody corpse too many times for you to remember her blank, worldless eyes and her pale mouth frozen in an eternal scream instead of her radiant smile. She is the first to die. Always. And you might have felt sorry for her in the beginning, but you no longer have the strength to have compassion for someone who only exists in this nightmarish world.

As soon as the outline of the homey cabin appears at the end of the road, the foreboding appears in you like a familiar friend, which slowly closes your insides in an iron grip, as if the pull of the stress that awakens in your veins would help anything. After all, it always ends the same. You search for a clue, you die and you end up here. And the only thing that keeps you from going crazy is the faint hope that the more secrets you uncover in this goddamn purgatory, the closer you get to the exit. Maybe.

The car slows to a stop in front of the location of your late autumn vacation, and the two girls jump out of the car with excited laughter, arguing over who will occupy which guest room in the huge house. The same dialogue, the same room layout, the same ear-splitting giggles from Pam's mouth that remind you of her screams cutting through the silence of the night, as she gets gutted like a trapped deer. You've seen her mangled body too many times for her laughter to revive the images of the delicate, wet glistening of her intestines, as the pale light of the moon surrounds her lifeless form on the cold wooden floor.

With a weary sigh, you grab your backpack resting next to you, mentally preparing in advance to once again suffer through the excruciating play that, like a prologue, leads up to the horrors that await you in the night. You list the thousand steps you have to take to find out where you are in the game, to discover if your previous death was in vain. Did you get a new puzzle that brings you closer to the finish line? Has another path been revealed for you to continue on, one that might finally take you back to the real world? Your chest hurts when you realize that you don't even remember what it was like to not live in this hell. With each passing night, the memory of reality floats further away, and the ghost of tears burns your eyes when you realize that even your real name sounds like a false fabrication in your brain. As if you never existed outside the confines of this dreadful place.

The door of the cabin opens with a loud creak, and this disturbs you from your thoughts that are spiraling into ever darker depths. And as a man appears on the doorstep, you almost taste the bitterness of anger on your tongue, because although anyone would be fooled by the wide grin on his face, anyone would be enchanted by those vivid blue eyes, and anyone would be swept off their feet by the playful friendliness he embraces your two traveling companions in his strong arms with as a greeting, but you already know him all too well. After all, Johnny has killed you at least eleven times, with the same sickly sweet smile on his curved lips, with which he now turns to you again.

"Bunny!" He beams, and you have to use all your strength to suppress the stomach acid rising in your throat from the nausea that fills you from the fake kindness emanating from him. "It's good to see ye again!" He pulls you into a tight hug, as you shamble to the small terrace, and as he presses you to his broad chest, his scent, which you would recognize from everywhere, creeps into your nose. The aroma of his cologne, the saltiness of his skin, and that smell that you couldn't quite place before. The smell of blood clings to him like a faint, barely perceptible phantom that only you can sense. You've witnessed it too many times.

"You too, Johnny."  You reply, each word burning your tongue like poison, but that's the script. You have to get into this act because there's no point in resisting. The story progresses the same whether you oppose it or not. The weirder you act in their eyes, the more the game will punish you later. And so you lose the chance of finding that tiny crumb that might help you get closer to your escape.

And from this point on, time crawls on leaden legs, and you sit through the impromptu dinner with gritted teeth, which was made by the man for you, while he was waiting for you to arrive at his modest little shack. He invited you here to celebrate your birthday. Your birthday according to the game, that is. You remember your own more and more faintly, and this makes you fall into despair enough to drag yourself through the events with a forced smile, like a puppet being pulled on a string by an unknown hand.

Sometimes you have the stray thought that you might be stuck here forever, and that you are forced to fight again and again in an endless circle, without end, without hope. And this suddenly makes the food taste like ash, which you force into your mouth with automatic movements.

"Is somethin' wrong, hen?" Comes the worried question, and blinking in confusion, you look up from your plate to Johnny, who is eyeing you with his dark brows furrowed in worry, as if your behavior would really disturb him. And you just shake your head with practiced happiness, putting a faint smile on your lips that doesn't reach your eyes.

"No. Not at all. My stomach is just a little upset. But it'll pass." You explain, quickly gathering your faux, artificial cheerfulness, because you can't deviate from the story now. Tonight you might have a chance to discover where the last clue leads to, and you shouldn't attract any unnecessary attention if you want to continue your search later. Let everything go in its own way until the shit inevitably hits the fan. But you still have work to do before that. It's only a few hours. You just have to bear it for that long.

This seems to calm him, for in an instant the lines of doubt disappear from his features, to be replaced by that disgusting kindness. And you are already familiar with the barely visible glimmer in those beautiful eyes, which makes you feel like a startled little rabbit being cornered by a fox. Johnny is a threat wrapped in honeyed words and friendly smiles, which was able to lower your guard one too many times. And you paid the price of your carelessness every single time.

And when the whiskey bottle, which was brought out in your honor halfway through the dinner, is finally empty, and the cake, which the man so generously bought for you before he came here, has been eaten, then the essential part of the evening arrives. Rebecca's phone rings, and she hastily apologizes so that she can go out into the cool night and immerse herself in the argumentative conversation she is having with her boyfriend. And you almost start to feel sorry for her, that death finds while she tries to get her love life straight. She doesn't even notice how deep the forest swallows her in the middle of the fight, and she is easy prey in the desolate wildness of trees and bushes. After the first three times, you no longer go after her or try to save her. You can't protect either of them. They are all animals for slaughter in the eyes of the game.

Johnny also retires for the night, claiming that the alcohol has gone to his head, and wishing you a "good night" he goes upstairs to sleep. For a while, you believed that he was indeed sleeping every time, and you honestly fell for the innocent performance he gave you, when the corpse of one of your friends was found. You seriously wanted to believe that he wasn't a threat to you. But then he broke your neck as easily as a twig. You will never be naive enough to trust him again.

"What a pity that you can't fuck your friends." Pam sighs longingly, and she almost undresses the man walking up the stairs with her eyes, biting her lip as her gaze glides over his broad back hidden trapped in the tight shirt. There is no denying that Johnny is an attractive man. It's a shame he's so handsome and even knows it. But the most evil creatures tend to be the most beautiful. You have learned this well.

Finally, you are alone after Pam has also left to take a shower, and you can begin what every nerve fiber of yours has been screaming for for hours. You jump up with nimble movements and hurriedly head in the direction of the kitchen, dropping the feigned serenity from your face. Last time, you found a dirty, yellowed picture in the woodshed, which took a while to decipher, but then you realized where to look.  As you enter the small room, you pull out the photo to hold it up in front of you, comparing it to the room bathed in the warm light coming from the living room. Although Johnny renovated this house, you can still easily find the wall where a refrigerator now rests, but based on the bright red circle in the photo, you have to look for the next clue somewhere there. You slip the picture back into your pocket and try to search for something suspicious with the flashlight of your phone, so you can better see what you're dealing with, there's no other use for this damn device anyway. You can't turn on the lights because that would immediately alert the other killer lurking outside. You learn a new lesson every time you fuck up, but you get smarter with each attempt. You'll be out of here soon. You have to get out of here.

As you peer under the fridge on all fours, squinting, a board creaks under your palm, pressing down a bit under your weight as you lean on your hands. You know that this is a sign, and as you kneel up to look for something to pry open the wood with, your eyes settle on a knife left on the kitchen counter. The whipped cream is still smudged against the cool metal, and suddenly the unwanted image enters your mind as the same blade slowly sinks into your chest, breaking through the protection of your ribs to then penetrate your lungs, pouring warm blood into your throat. You swallow hard, forcing the memory of the metallic taste out of your mouth, and steeling yourself, you wrap your fingers around the knife so you can get back to work, because you can't dwell on this right now. There's no point.

You stick the knife under the board and carefully pry it open, making sure to stay as quiet as possible because you don't know what will trigger the next death flag. Even though you are now aware of the signs and actions that lead the attacker to find you, this miserable game still has many surprises in store. With a soft squeak, the wood pops open, and as a small dark hole is revealed underneath, you take your phone in your hand and cast light on it, and like a wild animal pouncing on its prey, you reach for the small object shining in a golden light. Your fingers find the relic resting there, and you examine the key in puzzlement, as you pull it out of its hiding place. What does this open? Too small to be for a door. Maybe a lock?

The realization hits your brain like a bolt of lightning, and you spring up and turn back towards the living room. The hope that you might find something valuable rises in you, so you hurry through the room still shrouded in intimate silence, to sneak upstairs with silent steps when you reach the stairs. You know, if Pam shows up to the noise, she'll be on your trail the whole time, and that way you'll only attract trouble sooner. It might be selfish, but it's easier to let her die alone than to be hunted down together. You need time, and the more you waste on supporting characters, the less you have left to progress. But even because of this, your sense of guilt is starting to fade.

As soon as you reach the upper floor, you see the door at the end of the long corridor, on which even at such a distance you can faintly see the padlock that keeps it closed. Until now, this fact wasn't important to you, because it immediately became clear that you can only get in if you have the key. You can't hack it with anything else, you can't tear it down, this damn diabolical place will only let you in if you find the right clue to it.

You stalk like a cat in the darkness of the corridor, and the sound of your footsteps is absorbed by the soft carpet running along the floor. You consider your every move, because a new way out is possibly within your reach, and you fear that the chance to find the next important hint may disappear at any moment. Your own soft breathing sounds deafening to your ears, and each heartbeat feels as if your heart would want to burst out of your chest. Every inch of your body fills with anticipatory tension as you creep closer and closer…

And then you hear the voices.

At first, the muffled sighs seem like nothing more than the soft snores of one of your sleeping companions, but then you hear a moan, and you are overcome with confusion. The closer you get to the door opening from the middle of the corridor, the louder the panting and the gentle rustling of the bedsheets become, and you try to recall who could be hiding there according to the script. But nothing comes into your mind, because that room has been empty until now, without role or importance.

And as soon as you get close enough, you understand what is going on behind the door left ajar. The only source of light in the darkness of the room is the moon peeking through the window, but you can perfectly make out the movements of the tightly entangled figures. Johnny looks almost otherworldly as the pale light paints the dance of the corded muscles on his back as his mouth smooths over Pam's throat, eliciting a lustful moan from her. One of his strong hands slides along her breasts, and soon after his lips stray there, he almost viciously bites her nipple, to receive a pained gasp in response. His palm rests on her hips, and as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh, his hips only meet hers with vigorous movements, filling the heavy air with almost obscene, wet sounds. And as he kneels up, his fingers glide along her thigh almost teasingly, so that, hooking his hand in the bend of her knee, he directs her leg to his shoulder, locking it in a vise-like embrace that makes his biceps bulge. He brushes his lips against her calf, and you see his teeth flash for just a moment before he sinks them into the delicate skin, drawing a lewd whimper from her mouth opening in surprise. His movements are restless, each thrust seems violent and desperate, and she just grabs at the sheet and starts pleading, encouraging him in tears to sink his cock into her pussy just a little bit harder. And with each passing moment, Johnny looks more like a beast lost in his pleasure, as low grunts and moans erupt from his throat as he pushes himself closer and closer to the edge. And your feet are almost rooted to the ground, and you're unable to tear your eyes away from them, as you lose control over your body from shock and disbelief. Even though you know you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be watching them, suddenly too much information rushes through your senses into your brain to process what is happening.

But as Pam's back arches with a loud cry, and Johnny's hips stutter with a growl-like sound, the surreal image ends, because the man turns his head towards you as if he knew you were standing in front of the door, frozen in astonishment. Your stunned gaze meets his eyes, dilated pupils swimming in lust, and you feel like a deer stuck in the headlights, waiting to be hit by a car speeding towards it. His mouth stretches into a lazy, satisfied grin as he slides out of the panting girl and slowly begins to rub his cock, as if to tell you that it could be you if you would just give in to the temptation.

And that clears your mind in the blink of an eye, and you back away hastily, almost running to the door resting at the end of the corridor, before you would have time to further analyze the features of the man's face filled with post-orgasm bliss. What the hell is this new scene? This has never happened before…

You reach for the lock hanging on the door with trembling hands, but your fingers are still clumsy from the adrenaline pumping through your veins, and they only find the keyhole after many tries. And in the middle of your fumbling, you don't even notice how a dark shadow appears behind you, and you only realize that you're late and have failed, when a gloved hand grips the back of your neck and smashes your head into the hard wood of the door with an almost painful strength. The force of the impact resonates through your skull, and you clench your teeth with a yelp as the sharp pain rips through your head.

Black spots swim into your field of vision, and you have trouble when you try to focus your eyes to decipher who attacked you this time. And as soon as you catch a glimpse of the skull-like mask out of the corner of your eye, you realize that this time you only managed to get this far. When the knife glints in the killer's hand as he strikes you, you only bitterly realize through the blood filling in your mouth that the game is trying to divert you from the escape with more and more vile methods. Because you're convinced that Johnny's action was just another death flag that ended your search prematurely. And you surrender yourself to the darkness with the knowledge that you cannot let this happen again...

~

When you come to, you're sitting in the back seat again, and the melody of familiar music reaches your ears only as a low hum, because you know you're back at the beginning of the game. But what worries you much more is that you walked into a scene the previous night, which not only completely deviates from the usual pattern of all the events until now, but also represents a downright disturbing new development. So far, the script hasn't gotten sidetracked from the main story in the case of the supporting characters, and Pam should have been waiting in the shower for the killer to appear when you sneaked up to find the door with the lock. The fact that this story has changed so drastically helps the icy fingers of dread wrap around your stomach. Because you have no idea what kind of difficulties this will cause you.

The usual conversation takes place between the two girls, and when you arrive at the wretched cabin, they leap out of the car with the same enthusiasm, as if they weren't heading towards another painful death. But it doesn't matter to them anyway, because surrounded by carefree ignorance, they don't even know what awaits them.

When the door opens and Johnny's well-known figure appears, his face filled with desire flashes before your eyes almost on a cue, and you forcefully push the memory out of your head. This little interlude distracted you just enough to know you shouldn't fall for the game's nasty tricks again. Because you are more and more certain that it actively wants to hold you back and trap you here forever. The heated spectacle of the previous evening can only be due to this…

"Bunny!" The man greets you with the same bursting, false joy that he always shows you, but now you have to forcefully drive away the moans echoing in your ears, which surface in your head when you hear his deep voice. "It's good to see ye again!"  He says enthusiastically, and as his strong arms wrap around you, every single muscle of yours tenses, as the stress wakes up in you as a result of the fear that grips your insides. But it's even more worrying, as new fragments of memories flood the canvas of your mind, because the experience of seeing those hands glide over the body of your companion is too fresh to quickly overcome your embarrassment.

But you don't have time to think about how to get over these tangled emotions and continue the play, because suddenly you feel the man's hot breath on your ear, and in an instant, every part of you freezes like a frightened animal when the predator digs its claws into it.

"I hope ye liked what you saw, bonnie." The man grunts softly, and for a moment you think you misheard it. But as one of his hands creeps down to rest on your waist, and he presses you closer to him, the air gets trapped in your lungs with an almost painful force. "Because ye'll be next..." He whispers, and in his voice lies such a dark promise that it makes your blood run cold.

And as if nothing had happened, the moment ends suddenly, and as he steps away from you, he only looks down at you with his usual nauseating smile. But you see the dangerous predatory sparks in his eyes, and his gaze makes the little hairs rise up on your neck. And you soon realize that something is very wrong with the game. Fuck.

[lume-nosity]

mellow hearts

prompt: how would they act if they realized they had a crush on you

characters: heizou, xiao, kazuha, ganyu, yoimiya, albedo, scaramouche, eula, venti

style: fluff

song inspo: sweet by cigarettes after sex

an: sweet is a really good song and i was writing while listening to it on loop at night! i actually wrote for so many characters.. but i like writing this way, it’s short and sweet. i don’t have to make it too extreme. though i still hope i don’t make them too ooc as i just thought it’d be cute to write a prompt like this & wanted to try out more characters to write. do let me know if these are alright! feel free to give me some pointers for any of these characters backgrounds and such! just don’t turn it into harsh criticism. little ol’ me is trying (-｡-;

notes: not proofread, gender of reader is your choice, lowercase intended, ooc???

heizou

‘started off as a joke, but now it’s not’ kind of guy. being a detective, it’s surprising how it took him a long time to realize his true feelings for you. even he himself is surprised. the way he had to connect the dots, connect every possibility as to why he feels comfortable around you, and then it clicked. he likes you. so expect him to tease/play with you more often, but he silently wishes you get the point. while also being flustered deep inside.

xiao

he’s in denial. why would he, an adeptus, fall in love with a mortal? he doesn’t want you to concern yourself with him. but these feelings of his are making that belief 10x harder. he’d shove his feelings aside, but they’ll always come back to bite him. knowing him, he will take a really long time to be honest with his feelings. not only are they foreign to him, he doesn’t want to hurt you. so give him some time.

kazuha

he goes with the flow. in his travels, he’ll always bring a souvenir back for you. so let’s just say he’ll bring you gifts. every night when you both stargaze or just admire the night sky, he’ll throw in a few ‘flowery’ words here & there. oh and maybe a bonus, he’ll make a haiku on the spot for you. he knows what he’s doing, but even though he cannot stay in one spot, he’ll always find a way to make it back to you. accompanied with some gifts/trinkets.

ganyu

very flustered. she’ll ask cloud retainer about why she feels at ease whenever she’s around you but after doing so she gets teased. which makes her flustered even more. what she’ll do is try to find some time in her schedule to spend time with you. whatever activity, she will join you. whatever location, she will follow you. she may even go the extra mile to cancel her work and make the entire day dedicated to you.

yoimiya

she’ll be more cheerful. oh she has a crush on you? she’s planning a firework date! the fireworks she’s prepping are going to be the best ones ever to be used. she wants to make this date special, so she’ll have to make it count. with some pizzazz if you will?

albedo

he’s confused. like xiao, he doesn’t know what his ‘warm’ feelings are. ironic how he’s an intelligent guy, he wasn’t taught the concept of love. so he turns to sucrose for advice. but after learning what he really feels for you, and what love means, his cheeks turn red and he covers his mouth in embarrassment.

scaramouche

he disregards his feelings and thinks of them as ‘stupid.’ after being abandoned time after time, he doesn’t want the same thing to happen again. many times has he fallen prey to abandonment, he wasn’t falling for it again. he believes he has no time for love…but you’re right there. so he’s pretty conflicted about his ideals. in his mind there’s a whole war going on whether he wants to be upfront with his feelings or leave them. but he wasn’t aware of the light shade of pink that’s obviously shown on his face.

eula

appalled but also blushy at the same time. she’d put her hands on her hips, raise her chin, and say stuff like ‘i’ll seek vengeance on you for making me feel this way.’ she wouldn’t admit it, because that’s just eula yk? a tough nut to crack. though on certain occasions she’d invite you to go ice skating in dragonspine and if you have no experience in ice skating she’ll be happy to teach you. she may say things like ‘hmph. i’ll see to your punishment.’ but don’t worry. she may have that rough exterior, but she’s really kind.

venti

he’ll be more clingy. oh yeah. expect him to follow you around like a lost puppy. you’re going to liyue, he’s going. inazuma? sure why not. sumeru? nice, he’s ready. whenever he’s drunk he comes tumbling towards you and latches his hands around you, slurring out nonsense as you stand there like: ‘you must’ve drank again have you.’ and he goes ‘oh? i’ve only downed a.. couple. *hiccup* it’s not a lot, ehe.’ basically, he’ll just be more clingy to you and he isn’t shy to show that. a bold bard he is.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @min-play​

I’m Min! I’m an animator and storyboard  rti t who also posts comics and fan art online. So far, I have worked on the Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and LEGO Monkie Kid. I run on AAA batteries.

Check out our interview with Min below!

How did you get your start in animation and storyboarding?

Fanart! My hyperfixations kept me drawing and posting online since I was around 16. Later I dropped my Computer Science degree to study animation. After graduating, I worked as an In-between Animator, Key Animator, and Storyboard Artist. My fanart of a couple funny skeletons played a big role in getting hired.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating content that you know now?

It’s ok to make mistakes. All the flaws in a drawing make it look much more interesting. Also, it’s a lot more fun than spending ages perfecting one line.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

I always get 3 different flavors of art block (that I remember):

Art block from perfectionism

Sometimes there’s this self-enforced pressure that what you make has to be of a certain standard. Gotta loosen up and forgive yourself for not meeting an imaginary quality. Do it for the fun of it. Instead of thinking’ needs to be better,’ think ‘eh good enough lol.’ It’s cool to strive for improvement! Just don’t do it to the point it becomes self-deprecating.

Art block from burnout

Art hibernation! It’s ok to take breaks. Not every waking moment needs to be productive. Treat yourself to something yummy, hang out with people you’re comfortable with, or pick up a new anime series. Take the time to get some well-deserved rest.

Art block while drawing as a full-time job

WELL DANG.

Switch your ‘drive.’ If you’re running off on passion or interest as a motivator for work, that’s great! I do too! But also, it’s finicky. Set up routines for when that high runs out. I have a ‘Do task’ mode where I play a song or a movie I already watched on loop in the background (sometimes for weeks on end). I don’t know why but it helps me concentrate. Last week, it was the movie Cars.

These are personal methods and may not work for everyone, but I hope it helps!

What are 3 things you can’t live without as a creator?

Music + Noise-canceling headphones + Big blanket = Comfort force field

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

Does blacksmithing count as a medium? I’d like to try it out at least once, though.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

To connect with other creators more. Especially writers. They are so powerful.

Warm tones or cool tones?

Cool tones! Especially this one particular blend of blue and green.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So maaaanyy. At the top of my head, though: @northpen​. I am obsessed with their vivid-imagery writing style, and immaculate characterizations. Their character banters always have me in a gigglefit. They have this fic I binged in one sitting and left me crying and empty in a good way.

Thank you for such amazing answers, Min! You can check out more of Min’s creations over at @min-play​!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 7/30/2023

this post half brought to you by viewers like you! thank you!

listening

all my brain wants is charli xcx's apple on repeat. i understand there's a very popular dance with it but it's not H-O-T T-O G-O so i don't know anything about that. extremely effective song to have on loop while writing. peppy but very even and easy to just sort of bop along to in the background. looking forward to this being my #1 most listened song on spotify this year after the (DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT) number of hours last night working on yeehawgust.

thank you to my real-life sister for 1) teaching me about brat summer after i sent her a pic of the neon green pool outside and 2) telling me i would like this album. i do!

-

reading

i saw a photo on here several weeks ago of Balfour Tower, a brutalist residential building in London where all the mechanics are in the little tower on the right and said to myself "what the FUCK is that. how does it WORK."

someone else who said "what the FUCK is that. how does it WORK." was JG Ballard, previous tuesdaypost feature. there are only two books i reread most years, Jane Eyre in the fall and Ballard's The Drowned World in the summer (one of the nicest vintage hardcovers i own, from @morrak ).

let's yoink the description off wikipedia bc it's the most succinct:

The story describes the disintegration of a luxury high-rise building as its affluent residents gradually descend into violent chaos. As with Ballard's previous novels Crash (1973) and Concrete Island (1974), High-Rise inquires into the ways in which modern social and technological landscapes could alter the human psyche in provocative and hitherto unexplored ways.

it's less "the building is evil" and more "by incentivizing residents to not leave the building by providing everything they need, including a liquor store, the building is a petri dish for fucked up british social interaction".

Ballard is extremely good, on a very technical sentence level, of creating an immersive cocoon of dreamlike unreality in the middle of an otherwise functioning world. this is Not good for my brain when i am having a particularly prolonged bout of The Morbs. High-Rise was extremely effective in creating its particular pocket of fucked-up happenings in the middle of the "real world" but was EXTREMELY not the book i needed at this particular moment.

-

watching

The Burglars (1971, dir. Verneuil). this is a french heist film but i'm just going to drop my letterboxd review here.

do you want to see an all-in-one safecracking kit in a beautiful imitation leather suitcase straight from the catalog? with a computer to make a punchcard for the key cutting device also in the suitcase? do you feel strongly about emeralds? do you want to see a fuckin lupin iii style real life car chase where they run a little red fiat ragged? a man dumped out the back of a dump truck to fall down a slope half a mile long? do you want to see tits? do you want to see omar sharif get grain entrapped? this movie may be for you!

i would do anything for omar sharif and his big brown eyes.

the title sequence and a remarkably spare morricone soundtrack go SO hard. graphic design IS my passion!!!

how'd i find this: needed to use up some credits on kanopy. the gadgetry in the actual heist part of this film... mwah. a very poorly paced movie, but by god does it Look.

-

playing

thank you VERY much @sybilius for gifting me Pentiment! i would describe this as a point-and-click/visual novel murder mystery rpg?

it's endlessly charming. it is dense with medieval sociopolitical factions. i would expect nothing less from je sawyer. i loooove the different fonts: the printer in town has a custom font for his dialogue, other characters' dialogue changes fonts as you learn more about them (a noble's font changes from scrabbly handwriting to fine lettering after we learn he's got some education under his belt).

much like High-Rise, but for visual novel pace reasons and not content/atmosphere, this is not quite the right game for my brain at this time, but i am very excited to loop back around to it when better brain weather rolls in!

-

making

yeehawgust prep! i manage to do one prompt every other year but we'll see how this one goes

[bp-zb1fics]

hi! I love your stories! <3 do you think you could do a suggestive taerae fic?

Thinking about

pairing: taerae x reader

pronouns: none used

genre: fluff, suggestive themes

tw/tags: not much plot or dialogue sorry, music metaphors, introspection, very sentimental, kisses, making out, non-explicit descriptions, taerae slight demisexual implications (this in no way reflects on the real person, fiction is fiction)

wc: 871

summary: in this game called love, taerae trusts you with his heart

a/n last req done before i focus on checklist reqs! thanks so much anon, i really hope you like it! i got a little poetic with this one and played around with italics so its very soft hours but not much happens, idk if that works or not so feel free to lmk!

Check my pinned for more fics~

“What are you thinking about, Taerae-ah?”

You’re sitting on the couch, his guitar on his lap, your hands in his as he traced over dip, curve and line. Pressing your palms together, skin against skin, stretching his fingers out to see if his hand is larger than yours.

“Hmmm, how your hands look next to mine.”

Being with you is never boring, in Taerae’s opinion. Because even when it seems boring to other people, there’s always something new and interesting for you or him or for both of you. He can spend afternoons with you and his guitar, strumming and singing for you until you join him. And maybe you’re not the best singer but he’ll still listen to your voice like it’s a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. (Sometimes love isn’t just blind but deaf too)

And the best part wasn’t you getting the harmony right or him hitting those impressive vocal riffs, no, it was the silly little songs you made up together, nonsensical lyrics and ridiculous ad libs that you end up laughing over. Because that’s what Taerae thinks about sometimes, when he’s about to go to bed, when he’s too tired to think of anything else. He’ll think about the way you laugh, the sheer joy of that tiny moment. There are some moments that he wished he could save in a time loop and live in.

“I love your songs.”

You tell him the day he gathered enough courage to play you something from the little notebook he keeps, lyrics and chords in his handwriting. He treasures that memory just like he treasures those days when you have enough time to sit down and talk for hours. Long conversations that stretch time so thin that it feels just like seconds ticking away.

“Play something for me, please?”

Play with my heart, Taerae thinks, because I’ve given it to you to take joy in, to keep you company on lonely days, to make you smile and laugh and remember only the innocence of life. I’ve given you my hand to hold in the playground that we call love and I trust you not to let go, not to abandon me, just as I make a promise to never leave you, to play the game of hearts until ours stop beating.

You two have a million playlists together. Each of them are a carefully curated, specifically arranged set of songs that Taerae and you create for every occasion. Birthdays, anniversaries, long drives, short drives, walks by the river, all saved to preserve the moments you spend loving each other.

There are also playlists for moments like this. Soft, sultry, dreamlike beats in the background as he lifts his guitar off his lap, places it carefully to the side and pulls you closer. His hands leave yours only to glide up your neck and cup your cheeks. 

Gentle kisses. His lips fit over yours like a missing puzzle piece. Pulling away only for a force stronger than gravity pulling them back in. Your hands holding the back of his neck. It’s a haze as he presses your back into the couch, his legs bracketing yours in between them. He only pulls away once your lips are swollen, when the need for oxygen overpowers his need to kiss you until you both feel like you're floating. Your eyes meet his and you laugh breathlessly as he smiles at you, so, so enamoured.

If he could write a song about you, it would be about love.

You tug him back down, one hand sliding into his hair, fingers in between strands. He shivers, bending down to press his lips below your ear, mapping out a path down your neck as you get a little more restless. Taerae is almost too warm and so are you. He stops at the base between you neck and shoulder, the press of his mouth a little firmer, teeth scraping over skin, tongue following as if to soothe. Your fingers are laced in his hair, your back arching just a little at the sensation. Then he pulls back, pressing kisses along your collarbones. Your hips jump just a little, brushing against him and he exhales slowly.

Taerae wasn’t really interested in girls. Or boys. Just you.

He’s interested in the way you shakily undo another button of his shirt between kisses, the way you tremble a little when his hands slide under the hem of yours, skin against skin, fingers stroking the sides of your waist. Nothing becomes more interesting than the sounds he can pull from you, the kind of music that sends jolts of heat down his spine. His favourite song is the way you call his name, sweet and wholly addictive.

In the afterglow, he can only look at you. He can only watch the way you watch him, with so much unbridled affection that his heart is bursting, spilling out the seams to show you how he feels about you. To keep showing you everyday until your heart decides to give out. And he hopes that when that day comes, that the way he chose to love you was enough. Because you were more than enough for him.

__________________________________________

“What are you thinking about, Taerae-ah?”

“I don’t know…” 

“...You mostly.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Getting in an argument w/ Slenderman

wooo part three of this silly little mini series, you can find the other two parts in the creepypasta masterlist! its in my pinned! side note this song has had a choke hold on me since yesterday, been playing it on loop while writing back to the post i think imma write this part and maybe another part then take another break, need to go eat

oooo okay so this one is going to be interesting because i think a lot of the time he just kind of rolls with what you want as long as it doesnt stand in the way of his plans and whole deal

but on the chance you guys get into a disagreement, one that leads to you two (well mostly you) arguing, its a lot calmer than you would expect

heres the thing, hes this old ancient being that literally 'hunts' via stalking, hes probably very patient and really its your time that your wasting; hes still going to be here far longer than you will be

if its something that puts your physical or mental health hes going to do what he deems as best for you, which may lead to some boundary breaking... perhaps thats what you guys end up fighting over?

really you can yell at him for as long as you want, hes not going to fight back thanks to the patience thing.. .though if you do say something out of line he will snap back

if its the case of him going behind your back doing what he feels is necessary to protect you or better your life its unlikely that hes going to apologize

this is probably going to be the closest i will ever get to writing something that can fit into yandere territory, but in his mind he thinks what hes doing is for the best and either way youre stuck with him and hes going to be damned if you try to back out now

even if it leads into the end of your relationship hes going to be lingering in the background making sure youre still alive, at least

okay and then you guys rekindle because he ends up saving your life/j

actually wait that sounds like an interesting scenario, might save that for later if not you guys are free to run with that

okok going back to more softer stuff, if you guys dont break up or it isnt that serious, hes probably going to give you gifts or offerings if youre giving him the cold shoulder

does he think you giving him the silent treatment is immature? yes, but hes still trying to fully wrap his head around human behaviors so hes not going to talk about it, for now at least

that said i do think he might have a bit of a temper, although he mostly shows it to others.. it likely wont ever happen in a heated argument with you, but he is prone to getting snarly and mean with others

[justporo]

Twists and turns

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Chapter 9

Astarion and Tav finally get to their first dance. While Tav feels a little like she's going into battle, the vampire can't stop throwing her for a loop - quite literally.

Author's Note: Oh, it really has been long since I updated this, huh? Don't worry I haven't abandoned this story, but I'm still finding a way to balance the excessive urge to write with everything else - and barely sleeping anymore doesn't seem to be the answer, sadly. Anyways, enjoy this part!

Songs: The Vampire Masquerade - Peter Gundry Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: none

Astarion's and Tav's first waltz: Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake Waltz

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER (coming soon)

~~~

With his signature smirk on his lips and his chin lifted up high, the pale elf, whose skin almost looked pearly in the bright and silver moonlight, grabbed your hand firmly while one of his eyebrows twitched in anticipation. He quickly lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

“Let’s not waste more time then, my sweet”, Astarion practically purred. Then he swiftly joined his fingers with yours and spun you around under his arm before pulling you to his chest again. You giggled and grinned at your loved one: “I love it when you’re being cheesy.”

“I am being perfectly serious! And now, giddyup!”, the vampire responded and swung your arm by your held hands to push you to get going. You just playfully bumped into the vampire and let yourself be led towards the ballroom again.

Passing by the unstopping stream of servants you made your way back through the few rooms on the bottom floor. When you could already see the ballroom getting into view through the suite of rooms and their widely flung open doors, you heard a voice rising above all other noises at the party. Surely it must have been amplified by some magic then.

“…am eternally grateful for the warm and generous welcome, all you wonderful and lovely Baldurians have presented me with in your beautiful city, that – if I dare say so – has so much wonderful potential!” You could hear the crowd erupting into loud applause and even whoops of cheering – alcohol had very obviously been flowing generously, even in the more civilised parts of the event and loosened up even the stiffest of collars. While the host was speaking the orchestra played softly in the background.

But this then must be the elusive host, addressing all his guests. You looked at Astarion as you dragged on his hand to hurry him up – you were actually very curious to see this mysterious man. At least maybe a little closer than when he had made a short appearance at the top of the gallery.

But Astarion had actually even stopped walking. With furrowed brows he was staring intently at the ground. His lips were slightly parted as he obviously tried to desperately concentrate – or remember something? Absent-mindedly he almost let go of your hand.

“Astarion?”, you asked carefully and felt suddenly worried about the sudden change in his mood. The vampire was usually quite whimsical but something in the way his eyes stared at the ground flicking around while a thousand leagues away made you worried.

Meanwhile, the host continued with his appreciative speech, so very obviously sweet-talking his audience to get into their good graces: “Having meticulously prepared this very evening for months,” (you snorted, as if he personally had moved but a finger) “I am so incredibly happy to have you all here for this grand night and my humble entrance” (you snorted again, now almost ripping Astarion out of his stupor with your attitude) “into the society of Baldur’s Gate!” More cheers and whoops from the audience.

You softly squeezed Astarion’s hand. The vampire’s eyes flicked to yours, almost coming back to you. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath and shook his head softly.

The speech yet wasn’t over: “And now, because I don’t want to keep you too awfully long from your indulgences” – a sultry laughter that was immediately taken up by the enchanted crowd while you could nearly feel yourself having to gag – “how about we get to a big dance, so everybody really gets their blood pumping?”

The crowd erupted, cheered and clapped. You almost felt like you were in your favourite tavern again. For that moment, when the bard of the evening tuned in for the crowd’s favourite song. Definitely not like you were at a high society event right this moment. You heard that the orchestra was beginning to prepare for the announced dance. You heard another voice shortly carry over the rumbling and loud chatter that had broken out about everyone finding their desired dance partner and getting ready to show off. A clear female voice that you realised belonged to the elven singer you had seen before in front of the other musicians declared that the next dance would be a waltz.

You threw Astarion another glance, he seemed to have gotten out of his little fluke.

“Are you alright, my love?”, you asked him silently.

He shook his head once more. “Yes, my sweet, it’s nothing, just a random intrusive thought flashing through my mind.”

You blinked.

“Well, as long as the intrusive thought wasn’t ‘let’s murder everyone at this godsdamned party’ and you intended to act upon it… we’re good?”

Astarion slowly lowered his head as he stared at you.

“My love, for how long have we been together now for you to know me better? I’m not a Bhaalspawn, darling, merely a victim to my own carnal lusts and my desires for you, little siren”, he replied sassily. One of his eyebrows lifted up and he smirked lewdly at you.

But you really had gotten to know him very well and saw the telltale hints that he wasn’t entirely genuine. His old defence mechanism of deflecting something with a sultry comment was something he’d very easily transformed into harmless everyday banter (because he loved to fluster you at every given opportunity). But combined with how stiff his upper lip seemed and how the wrinkle between his eyebrows hadn’t fully flattened again you knew that there was something he wasn’t letting you in on.

But unfortunately, you also knew, that it was an absolutely helpless endeavour to push him about such a topic. Especially since you still were very much in public and Astarion hated nothing more than airing out his dirty laundry to other people – unless maybe it was literal dirty laundry (and maybe lingerie at that). But you made a mental note to come back to it later and try to talk it through with him if he was willing to open up.

For the moment you just gave a defeated sigh at his languid comment and eyebrow wiggle.

Then Astarion obviously remembered what his actual intention had been, and he grabbed your hand again and softly dragged you forward to get to the ballroom again. “Now”, he said teasingly while rushing around people swiftly, “are you finally going to dance with me or not, love?”

“Well, since the perfect opportunity just presented itself, why don’t we actually give it a go instead of just talking about it?”, you replied just as teasingly. You knew that you opened up a challenge to him with your words, but you felt excitement rise up in you already.

Dancing at a ball? In a beautiful dress? With your version of a fairytale prince?

The vision made you kind of want to gag a little because it was so against anything you had been your whole life and stood for. But then again deep down you felt giddy happiness about maybe just experiencing this for once in your life. Just one night of kitsch and cheesiness and a fairytale ending?

Although looking at the way Astarion kept eyeing you, sensing your energy, you were sure the night wouldn’t end with something parents would tell their children at bedtime.

You passed by the buffet, then the pyramid of crystal glasses again, before you were nearly at the ballroom again. Couples were already positioning to start dancing while the dancefloor had spontaneously been expanded to almost envelop the whole room. Leaving almost no bystanders for the coming dance.

In passing you grabbed another glass of champagne from a silver tray and downed it in one go: as much as you were excited, you also could feel yourself getting nervous. The thought of dancing with so many other people being able to watch suddenly making you a little anxious.

Astarion just looked at you with round red eyes in surprise but a soft smile played around his lips as you were already getting rid off the empty glass again.

“I keep being surprised by your drinking habits, love, but then I remember what kind of establishments you used to frequent before we knew each other”, the vampire said while scrunching up his nose a little in disgust at you for having drunk that expensive champagne like a cheap shot.

You shook yourself a little when you felt the fizzy alcohol run down your throat and then deliciously warm you from the inside out. Both of you kept walking towards the dancefloor that was still filling up with more eager couples.

“I keep being surprised by how much of a pretentious prick you are sometimes, darling, and then I remember you used to be one of them”, you countered and waved around to signify you meant all the nobles around.

“Ouch”, the pale elf replied but he did actually grin at your quick and witty comeback. The way he could bicker with you being one of his favourite things about you.

While you approached the other couples you moved your head around as if trying to crack your neck and rolled your shoulders a little. You almost felt like…

“You are not going into battle, love”, Astarion remarked dryly watching your shenanigans.

You stared at him with a bit of a grimace: “With that many people around we might as well be. Also…” – you sighed – “I know you taught me, and you did a wonderful job, but… At home no one was around to judge me, really”, you confessed while you stopped at the very edge of what was seemingly deemed the space for dancing.

“What about the night at the tavern, hm?”

“Do you have an idea how drunk I was?”, you asked him in return. Astarion just scoffed.

“Also, there was magic at play!”, you desperately tried to justify yourself.

Astarion cocked his head at you: “Is my love for you not magical enough for you to forget all your worries and fears, darling?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at him unblinkingly – not responding to that nonsense in any kind of way. You turned your gaze towards where the orchestra were readying themselves to play for what was probably the big moment of the evening.

“My sweet, are you seriously telling me that you were – as you have pointed out yourself, just about a few minutes ago, not afraid to take on a literal god but you are afraid to dance around some coiffed poodles and drunken imbeciles now?” Astarion’s voice rose up at least on octave as he talked himself into a fit.

Now you felt called out by him and you didn’t like it. You nervously looked over to him again, but the vampire’s face was scrunched up in a grimace looking at you. His brows were furrowed and the wrinkle between them was very steep indeed. Barely the only thing missing was for him to put his hands on his hips and stomp his foot.

Your mouth pressed into a line as you stared back at him – you felt more nervousness as you noticed everyone getting into position.

“Can we just go and get started please?”, you pleaded with Astarion.

But your vampire kept staring you down. His expression changed slowly, and you could almost see the cunning plan form behind his eyes. His gaze became sultry as yours became alarmed.

“Astarion, whatever you are thinking: NO!”

A grin split the vampire’s face: “Oh what, my love? All I’m going to say is when I am done dancing with you every single person in this room will either want to be you or be with you.” His eyebrow twitched and he licked over his bared teeth while he took a step towards you. His gaze was almost predatory. And the intensity on his wickedly beautiful face in that moment almost took your breath away.

“Ready to take on all that competition then, Astarion?”, you answered weakly in an attempt to get back at him for baffling you. He just knowingly lowered his gaze at you – because he knew. There was no competition as long as he was around.

The conductor of the orchestra very fittingly chose this moment to tap his baton against his music stand. Then he lifted his arms and the room’s anticipation rose to a max. Breaths were held, chins lifted up, feet silently shuffled around.

“Let’s just go, please”, you scream-whispered at Astarion as the room had mostly become silent for a second in heated aspiration. You turned away from him and wanted to finally enter the dancefloor while the music started to rise up. Couples started to slowly turn – some immediately and horrendously arhythmic. Maybe you really didn’t need to worry that much.

You only got about one step in, when you felt a firm grip on your wrist.

“Ah ah ah, we don’t rush, my heart!”, Astarion scolded you and dragged you back as you were seriously getting annoyed at him. “I don’t remember formally inviting you to dance with me.”

“Do you need a three-day notice or what?”, you snapped at him and actually did stomp your foot. But the vampire was not to be ruffled as he made you turn to him again at the edge of the dancefloor.

He smirked at you: “Come on, play along, indulge me. Once in a lifetime opportunity.”

You tapped your foot but the vampire’s gaze and grin didn’t falter. You sighed in desperation and motioned him to go on.

The swelling music was filling the whole room, sending goosebumps all over your skin now. You noticed that it was considerably louder now than it had been when you had arrived. Your brimming anxiety and anticipation probably were amplified by it.

You stared at your partner who in a very theatrical manner now put his heels together, incredibly elegantly bowed and dramatically reached out his hand to you.

“My beautiful darling, Tav, would you be ever so gracious as to honour my humble self with your hand, if only for this dance? And let me twirl you around as if you were the princess that I’ve been wooing for months with my eloquent love letters and could only hope to admire from a distance so far?”, he asked and put on his poshest of accents. He almost sounded as if he was reciting poetry although you heard the humours hints in his voice.

Gods, and for as much as you hated all of this and for as much as it wasn’t who you were: you couldn’t help but giggle giddily in this moment – as your admirer had just propositioned to you, how thrilling!

He had gotten to you, you were now fully ready to play along – if only for shits and giggles.

“Oh my love, Astarion, I would love nothing more but to be spun around in your arms and then afterwards keep dreaming about it forevermore”, you replied and put your hand in his in an overly exaggerated motion.

You desperately had to bite your cheek to not start laughing. Astarion shortly moved your offered hand to his lips to press a kiss to them. You could see that he too was barely containing laughter with the terrible histrionics you’d both put on. The way he bit his lip showing off one of his pronounced canines for a moment.

But then he finally rose up from his elegant bow and swiftly spun you under his arm once before he finally led you upon the dancefloor. He lifted your hand up high in his and confidently walked through all the other couples that seemingly were intimidated by your mere presence alone. No one dared to cross your path as Astarion walked you straight to the middle of the dancefloor.

You saw that quite a lot of pairs of eyes were watching you. Probably from the scene you had caused earlier or because you were fashionably late to the waltz. You tried not to think about it.

Once in the dead centre of the dancefloor, Astarion swung you around to face him, grabbed your other hand to lift it up while the other wandered to the small of your back. You planted your other hand softly on his shoulder just as he had taught you.

“Time for another lesson, love”, Astarion said as his ruby eyes twinkled mischievously at you – one of his white curls had fallen playfully onto his forehead too. You raised your eyebrows at him. “Once you start, never stop dancing!”

And then he finally started dancing with you. He effortlessly led you around the dancefloor at breakneck speed. Your skirt was flying around you as you turned and turned.

You were entirely sure that you were looking at your vampire like a deer being snuck upon in the woods. Your heart was racing as you felt both incredibly excited and very nervous still – the rush of the sheer speed you were waltzing around the room with amplifying both.

Astarion’s eyes were solely on you as he held you close and without showing an ounce of effort elegantly made you sweep across the dancefloor. The many lights sparkled in them, making them look like rubies. You could’ve gotten lost in them.

But keeping up with Astarion, even though he was masterfully leading you in this waltz and his arm was firmly holding you, was still taking a lot of your attention. The two of you had practiced quite a lot. And you had learnt the steps and routines quite quickly, but you had been anxious about making a fool out of yourself.

“You’re thinking too much, my heart”, you heard Astarion say softly – despite the loud orchestral music that only seemed to keep swelling. You blinked at him and almost stumbled right then and there because he had taken you off guard.

You didn’t even dare to reply because you were now awfully aware of your feet and about everything that could go wrong. You gulped and felt how your arms got shaky – even the glass of champagne you had right before this couldn’t help you anymore with this. Anxiously your gaze dropped downward to check if your feet where still correctly doing what they were supposed to.

“Ah ah ah”, the vampire scolded you and with a swift movement he lifted his hand from where it had been on your back to raise up your chin again. “What did I tell you, my sweet, chin up, you’re the second most beautiful person in this room.”

Somehow his teasing brought back some of your cool. “How many times do you want to switch up that compliment, dear?”, you spat back and felt the sudden urge to step on his foot again – why was he always so irritating?

Astarion’s face split into an enormous grin as he kept turning with you in his arms. “As much as needed”, he replied, and you saw how one of his eyebrows twitched. “You look so beautiful when you’re annoyed with me, love.”

Oh, the audacity! Trust Astarion to turn a romantic moment into a godsdamned punchline. You stared him down angrily – meanwhile forgetting to struggle with the dancing.

Astarion’s grin kept growing, now even revealing his fangs. He knew exactly what he had done. And you had to be honest with yourself: you were grateful for it. As always, he had figured out just the right buttons to push.

“I hate you”, you simply threw to him, too stubborn to acknowledge how he had gotten you to loosen up. But a smirk was growing on your face now.

For that remark Astarion quickly moved to make you spin under his arm again. You squealed a little, surprised by the sudden twirl you were forced to take. Then you were right back, pressed firmly against the vampire’s chest. He looked at you with mock disappointment, slightly shaking his head and clicking his tongue. All of course while the dance was still going.

“We don’t lie, my heart”, Astarion said with both eyebrows drawn up and cocking his head a little, his tone teasingly condescending.

“Maybe if you were being nice.”

“Am I not being nice right now? Am I not the perfect paradigm of a courteous, gallant gentleman right this very moment, my darling?”, the vampire drawled sarcastically.

“Paradigm of being full of it, is what you are”, you offered him in return.

And he threw you for another unplanned and uncalled for spin under his arm.

“STOP IT”, you whisper-screamed at your vampire and struggled to not fall while also conveying your anger at him. Astarion just laughed at you. But he quickly went back to just genuinely smiling at you, admiration clear in his eyes.

“Just close your eyes, my heart, enjoy the moment – just let me lead you, you know the steps, love”, he said gingerly after a little while without a note of mocking in it now. You stared at him for a moment longer, asking yourself if he might be meaning to make you fall – but then you followed his suggestion. You trusted him after all – fully.

You only felt unsteady for a short moment. The vampire’s arm around you was holding you securely as you tried to concentrate fully on the sensations surrounding you.

The first thing was probably the music – the way it was filling the room completely and went through your body. You felt how the skirt around you kept flying and how the dancing and the speed of your turns and other couples passing by made for small of gusts of wind.

Your feet now effortlessly found their footing and as you kept swirling around, you felt how the anxiety slowly disappeared. Astarion’s body was so close to yours – reminding you that you had a steady anchor with you, always. You focused on how his hand felt on the small of your back, his other in yours. How the fabric of his fine doublet felt pleasantly under your fingertips.

And joy crept into your heart as you enjoyed being turned around seemingly endlessly in your lover’s arms. Your head fell back, and you felt a smile creep onto your lips. The joy you felt manifesting as some kind of untameable force as you kept feeling the rush of moving at impossible speed. The alcohol you’ve had. The things you’ve experienced. The man holding you.

Just you being here with your soulmate, enjoying this moment.

You opened your eyes then, focusing on nothing really, just letting everything rush by in a blur of colours while you kept focusing on how it felt to be swirled around in Astarion’s arms. Lights flashed by, music was thrumming through your entire body. You were desperately aware of how close you were to the person you loved the most in this world. And you also heard your vampire softly chuckling at you finally just letting loose in the joy of the moment.

It didn’t get any better than this.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear @wraithmaine

[tobyfoxfacts]

How to compose like Toby Fox

I analyzed Toby's music... here's the backbones to his songs, and various Toby techniques! I included ways to get started with recording your music! Read more to see 👀

Battle themes

For the music Toby uses in his battle themes, he starts with a 1-2 measure long riff. He gradually adds in more instruments, looping the original track from the intro. A simple tune you can hum to. After adding in several instruments, he adds the bridge of the song. He removes the beginning melody and lets the background music continue for a measure. Then he slows down the song and keeps one instrument. After that he adds a buildup and changes the octave, or adds harmony to the final chorus. At the very end, he adds a finale that ties the beginning to the end of the song.

Background music

For the background music during exploring, he makes the songs easily "loopable" so the beginning fades into the end. He uses orchestra sound fonts and ambient noise. During emotional short cut scenes he uses faint opera vocals as well. Don't forget the random wind whooshing sounds.

Instruments used

Undertale mostly focused on chiptune synthesizers and 8 bit sounds. Toby branched out to orchestra instruments in chapter 1 of Deltarune, and emphasized his piano skills. In chapter 2, he fell in love with the harpsichord that he'd romanced many years ago in his homestuck side gig. Thank goodness he left the weird overused synth pitch bending in his past. Good grief, that was... creative. Toby's been experimenting with brass instruments, which makes sense. Toby played trumpet in jazz band during high school. After his work on Pokémon, Toby's music has become diverse, and each song has a unique twist. Working with other artists was definitely a great step for him! Don't be afraid to reach out to other beginner musicians and collaborate!

Making music like Toby

To make music like Toby... experiment! Create a long-term relationship with the harpsichord and mash notes together until you find yourself playing them over and over, nodding your head in satisfaction. You gotta quickly record the track and tweak it later so you remember what it sounds like.

Simple ways to record music

Music professionals will K1LL me for this one. Here's some ways to begin recording music without buying that 1999$ springo bingo synth board with the doodoofart pro vst producing sound bit 2000.

Using these tips, you can record and change sound fonts! Once you record your track, you can mess around with the sound on your recording device! That's how Toby has so many instruments 👀

Look up videos on YouTube about converting music into wav and mp3 files. Toby didn't know what a wav file was when he began music production! Don't be scared of all these fancy weird words. You'll catch on! There's no shame in going on the web for help. Music production can get very complicated with random errors and shit. (I have cried over my piano before) That's what reddit is for! Frustration is inevitable. Just take a deep breath and STAY DETERMINED. Even if you can't play piano? Watch tutorials and practice! Toby is self taught and doesn't write sheet music!

If you have an electric piano keyboard, you can hook it up to a computer with a cable that's easily found on Amazon. You can also use an iPad pro, hook THAT up and record it in a program like garage band. I recommend investing in studio one 5 on your computer! If you've got studio one... get a vocaloid software bundle and mess around with piapro studio 👀 add vocals!!! There's some cheap vocaloids out there! Toby's worked with some vocaloid producers in the past! Mess around and have fun!

Get creative!

The keyboard is your playground. Toby says that simplicity is important. He mentioned this in the annotations included on the sheet music that came with the undertale collectors edition. You don't need to go overboard with advanced shit to sound professional. Some of the best songs are simple and catchy!

Toby would want you to be kind to yourself and your hands. Be patient. Music takes time! Make your own songs and follow your own path. Create your own style so when people hear your music they know it's you!

Good luck!

[catartac]

When i was younger and my brother still lived with us i would sometimes go to him asking for piano improvisations based on different themes i would give him. Often times this would be based on my OCs or scenes from my "story i will someday totally write but for now daydream about and monologue to my siblings". It was nice to sit back, eyes closed, imagining the action with my own background original soundtrack. He was pretty good at it too.

He was the first one to leave home as he went to uni, and he was the only one to never really come back to live with my parents at any point. He was never really the easiest to communicate with and being away didn't make things much smoother.

However, every year, on our birthdays, we will compose songs for us. He knows what we like, so he always crafts them based on our preferences. He knows I'm a sucker for a repeating melody, for violin and piano sounding sounds, he knows I dream of vocals and man he's come close. My sister is all about rhythm and a bit more electronic. One year we collaborated and I made a moving backdrop to his song for her (which also included audio from Kermit the frog in the background... it kinda worked ngl).

He's been working on a game for some time (you know, if being a talented mathemagician and musician wasn't enough) and even though we are definitely not the target audience (it's a rythm game and man i suck at anything that requires reflexes) he kept asking us for feedback every step of the way. He made it very clear that even though the game has a very high skill ceiling he wants to make sure "even mum can play it".

For context, my mum is first adorable and also she's an og gamer. As in, she got carpal tunnel from playing too much tetris when she was younger. Now she loves playing overcooked and animal crossing with us but she get a bit overwhelmed with more complex games (she's just like me frfr).

It came out today! I bought it (he did offer me a key but I kinda couldn't be bothered and also he was one of the first people to but from my Redbubble so i gotta do what i gotta do). I started playing it. Immediately changed my settings to four keys maximum because i was honest with myself. Actually, that's a lie, the first thing i did was change the colours because that's the kind of person i am. Started playing, really loved the first song, quickly realised another one was waaaay out my league, liked another one. Tell my bro, he says "oh you should also check out Bi Katuak, I think it's your birthday song" I check it out, love it but doesn't ring that much of a bell but now that I am on the second page i see it

La Danza del Fenix

Immediately i am transported back, i imagine Amanda, the character, riddled by anxiety and regret, that i then thought i related to the least but have since then came to realise portrayed very accurate parts of me, dancing surrounded by fire in a joyous way for the first time, the freedom, how her daughter will dance at a ball carefree and excited on what will be the real proof that war and tragedy is over

My brother only gives side hugs and half smiles

It's an easy song. With a lovely repeating melody that makes me want to dance around as I play it even if that makes me make mistakes. You're not penalised for mistakes, you can only see your records get higher. The songs never end unless you want them to, and yet they don't loop in any obvious way (something to do with the algorhythm he kept trying to explain but I kind of gave up understanding at some point.

This game may be for you if you like music, rhythm games, or just videogames in general. Though in a way I am sure it will never be for you in the way it was made for me.

It's called EnternAlgoRythm Give it a shot! There is pretty much nothing you can't customise in terms of gameplay and cosmetics and if there's anything you notice you can tell him and he'll do his very best to fix it or improve it. There are plenty of songs for any skill level (some i dare not even touch) and the songs are named in different languages based on the countries we have lived in/had influence from. My favourites are the aforementioned Danza del Fenix, Bi Katuak (defs also made for me, it's an easy cat themed song), Violet Voyage, and Ingranaggi Striscianti.

TLDR: im very emotional pls go play my brother's game

[agaypanic]

hi! first off can i say your writing is TO DIE FOR! it's simply amazing and you're literally THE BEST FOR WRITING FOR CHARACTERS NO ONE ELSE RLLY WRITES FOR!

n e ways..

could you do a cute lil imagine about michael kelso and his girlfriend wanting to take a bubble bath with him? like with candles, scented bubbles and everything! and maybe it gets a tad bit smutty at the end (bc let's be fr it's kelso)

i appreciate it sm!! <33

Bubbles (Michael Kelso X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You want to take a bath with your boyfriend. He thinks the bubbles and candles are a little girly for him, but he can’t say no to you.

A/N: omg tysm <3333 also slightly smutty towards the end bc it’s Kelso

***

You loved nights like this. Nights when there was no school the next morning, nights when your parents wouldn’t be home for hours because they were out for one of their weekly dates, nights when the gang was busy doing their own things. You were able to completely unwind and relax.

You had a bit of a ritual. You started in the living room, watching television while painting your nails. Whether it was Charlie’s Angels, Scooby-Doo and his gang, or the Fonz, you just wanted some background noise. You decided to paint them blue because that was your boyfriend’s favorite color on you.

When the paint had dried, you went to your room to grab your pajamas. After painting your nails, you always took a bubble bath with scented candles around the tub and music playing from your little portable radio. You were about to walk off to your bathroom when the phone on your bedside table rang.

“Hello?” You answered, phone pinned between your ear and shoulder.

“Hey, baby!” Michael responded excitedly on the other end.

“Hey, Micah! What’s up?” 

“I thought I could come over. I know your parents are out.” You were quick to pick up the suggestive tone in his voice.

“Michael, I’m not really in the mood for that.” You sat on your bed, toying with the covers.

“Well, can I at least come over?” Michael asked. “I just miss you.” God, how could you say no to him when he sounded so sweet and desperate to see you? You smiled, looping the curled phone cord around your finger.

“Okay then. I’m about to start a bath, so I’ll leave the back door unlocked for you. So when you come in, you’ll know where to find me.”

“Y/n, how can you say you’re not in the mood for sex and then tell me you’re gonna be naked when I get there?” He asked with a joking tone.

“Shut up!” You laughed, and Michael let out a chuckle in return. “Okay, I’m gonna go. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love ya, too.” You both hung up the phone. 

You ran to the back door and unlocked it before making your way to your bathroom. Music echoed as the water ran. You put some bubble bath soap in the filling tub before lighting two of your favorite candles and placing them on the edges of the tub. When the tub was filled to your liking, you turned off the faucet and undressed. You threw your clothes into the hamper before stepping into the warm, bubbly water. You sighed loudly in relief as you sank and rested your head against the wall.

You didn’t keep track of how many songs had played before you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Can I come in?” Michael asked through the door. You smiled at the sound of his voice. 

“Yeah, come on in.” He did as told, shutting the door behind him. You rested an arm on the edge of the tub, hand reaching out for him to take. Michael smiled and sat down against the bathtub, taking your hand.

“Hey, baby.” He kissed your knuckles.

“Hi, Micah.” You squeezed his hand, leaning forward to give him a kiss that he eagerly returned. You bent your knees to rest your chin on them, smiling softly at Michael.

“Having fun?” Michael asked. You gave a hum of confirmation and then suddenly had an idea.

“Wanna get in with me?” He looked at his surroundings, giving out a light laugh.

“I dunno, Y/n. Bubble bath, candles. Seems a little girly for me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, okay. So I can put makeup on you, but you won’t sit in the bath with me?”

“David Bowie wears makeup!”

“I bet he takes bubble baths too!” The two of you laughed at your unserious outbursts. You kissed Michael. “Pretty please.” You begged against his lips before pecking them again. He sighed, untangling his hand from yours.

“Fine. But no telling the guys.” Michael stood up and shed his layers. You clapped your hands with glee, scooting forward in the tub. You had him put his clothes in the laundry basket because he had left so many pieces of clothing at your house for him to wear afterward, and he stepped into the bath. He settled in the place you were in before he came, resting against the wall before pulling you towards him to rest on him. Because Michael’s so tall, he had his legs bent, knees popping out of the water.

“See, isn’t this nice?” You asked. You felt him kiss the back of your head.

“Mhmm.” He hummed into your hair, sighing at the sensation of you dragging your nails up and down his thighs. He grabbed one of your hands, holding it close for inspection. “I like the blue.”

“Did it for you, baby.” You maneuvered your hand in his hold to interlock your fingers again.

The two of you lay in the bubbles, making light conversation with music playing in the background. You were encased by Michael’s limbs, legs on either side of your body, and arms around your torso, keeping you close to his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder while he listened to you talk about something that had happened in class the other day. 

Michael moved one of his hands to scratch his face, and when he went to hold you again, he brushed your nipple. You gasped at the sudden sensation. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled into your shoulder, waiting for you to continue with your story. But your mind was now filled with other things. It was crazy, the effect Michael Kelso could have on you. One simple, accidental touch had sent your mind into a frenzy. “Babe?”

You turned your head to look at him, eyes hazy with lust. His eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for you to say something. But he knew that look in your eye; he knew what you wanted. 

Keeping an arm around you, his other hand gave one of your thighs the treatment that you’d been giving him. You sighed in relief at the contact. His hand started to travel to where you needed him most, pausing right at the apex of your thigh.

“Please, Micah.” You whined. He clicked his tongue, lips against your ear.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He whispered. “I’ll take good care of you. I always do, don’t I?”

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: percy finds a new favorite song

word count: 415 words

a/n: "hey juliet" by tufts beelzebubs has been on my percabeth playlist and lives rent free in my mind, so i decided to write a tiny little thing about percy with this song, set probably somewhere in between the second and fourth book. ideally, you could even listen to the song while you read the fic.

taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @jedi-nurse {if you’d like to be added to my percabeth/pjo taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Hey Juliet

 Percy didn't usually listen to this kind of music, but this song in particular caught his attention.

 That's a huge deal, actually, at least for Percy. Not a lot of things could reliably catch or hold his attention. Usually he'd start listening to a song, and then his mind would wander, and then he'd find himself seven tracks ahead of where he was without having even noticed a thing about the songs he missed.

 But Hey Juliet by Tufts Beelzebubs was apparently an exception.

 He wouldn't go telling any of his friends that he liked a capella music now. At that point, just tell your friends you sing Broadway hits with your mom and watch opera on the weekends; you'll spare yourself some embarrassment.

 But this a capella song was a bit different. It was fast. It had a good beat. The audio had multiple parts to listen to— several people singing or making background noises at once, and the fact that there were multiple things to focus on held Percy's attention. He'd often throw it into the background on loop when he was doing his homework, giving him something to occupy the back of his brain while the front of his brain focused on his studies.

 But every now and then, he'd stop his work and listen to the words.

 "I just want you to know, I wanna be your Romeo. Hey, Juliet…"

 "I never got the big deal with Romeo and Juliet anyways," Percy mumbled, "some guy wrote a hard-to-read-play about two people who love each other so much that they die? What's the point?"

 But he knew there was a little more to it than that. Something about Romeo and Juliet's parents hating each other, but that those two main characters loved each other anyways, which apparently was interesting to most people.

 Percy Jackson, however, was not like most people.

 "That's actually ridiculous," Percy thought, "that would be like if I fell in love with the kid of one of my dad's rivals, like... like one of Athena's kids… like… oh shoot."

 He winced as one of Athena's kids came to mind: Annabeth Chase.

 "Yeah," he thought, "it would be as ridiculous as me falling in love with Annabeth."

 But ever since that moment, every time Hey Juliet came on, he found himself with another thing to focus on— the thought of Annabeth smiling at him, and the idea that maybe having a Juliet wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

[darkrpfinders]

🩸Hey all - 21+ looking for an oc mxm rp! I’ve recently sort of falling back into the Shameless rabbit hole and I still love Ian/Mickey so much, but right now I’d love to do something inspired by the show/those characters! So, just to clarify - ocs, not in that universe, not those canons. Just two guys in a really rough environment, from really rough backgrounds, dealing with a load of shit each but finding each other and falling in love. It’s not perfect, soft, and there’s huge ups and downs in their relationships; arguments, fights, breaking up, etc, but they always come back to one another and truly love each other.

I have a few muses I can offer depending on the dynamic, but one in mind specifically, and plotwise, I’d love to brainstorm together! Maybe we could start with our muses as teens, or maybe they meet when they’re older, whatever fits the vibe! I’d just love to see them find each other and their relationship grow over the years until they’re finally in a place to actually heal and grow together! Dark topics should be expected, but of course we can chat limits. Generally though, I’d imagine things like abuse, drug/alcohol addiction, poverty, neglect, grooming, mental health issues, gangs, jail, internalised/external homophobia, etc, to pop up, in their backstories or as passing events or graphic ones, but again we can discuss limits! I’m just looking for someone to throw me a messy, damaged, mildly (or very) toxic person my way so they can be messy together and then heal! I’m not looking for any soft, passive, subby, naive, damsel in distress characters. Give me people who can be bad and in the wrong at times! I want all the conflict, nuance, complexity so that we can have some sweet sweet hurt/comfort, angst, growth! I am open to nsfw where it serves the plot/our guy’s relationship, but I’m only looking for a switchxswitch dynamic. I like how we can play about with it in their relationship and don’t like restricting them to one role.

I write anywhere from 500-1500 words a reply usually 3 times a week, sometimes more if I’m free, or less if I’m busy - but I’ll always keep you in the loop! I love sending songs, aesthetics, etc, and am open to doing more threads if we get along and have a lot of muse! I write on discord and would just love someone who can throw some ideas my way and plot with me, flesh out this world and story, and offer a decent multi-para reply for me to work with! Ty for reading!

.

[philosophiums]

hi sam! i have more jjk/writing questions 💫

whose pov do you find it easier to write in? i've only written in nanami's and megumi's povs and i find that the quieter characters come more easily to me. i think if i were to write in yuuji or gojo's pov for example it would be a lot harder....what about you?

do you write in silence or with something playing in the background?

do you have any writing pet peeves? like if you see it when you're reading something it just gets at your nerves? hgjshfhf

what do you do when you're stuck on a scene? oh also. do you write chronologically?

who do you think has the most interesting cursed technique? why?

is there any standout vocal performance in the anime for you? i personally think sukuna's va kills it every single time he's toooo good esp when he's playing around with his opponent, that coy teasing tone is just *chefs kiss*

hi mariam!!!! 💜 WAAAAAA SO MANY HELL YEAH

i also find it easier to write in the pov of a quieter/more introspective character. it makes scenes flow faster/better imo if the character is intuitive (or at least thinks they are) and can make some logical assumptions along the way. so megumi is for sure an easier pov for me to write in. however! i am finding that yuuji is coming easier to me lately because i have (re)Discovered that his intelligence and inner thoughts run along the lines of Reading People. so megumi is very in his head about himself and looking at the world around him, but yuuji is connecting dots and thinking about the people he's with. getting his outward personality down, however, is still a bit of a challenge to me KJSBVJKSDBV

both! if i'm Cruising and the words are flowing, i listen to music (usually just whatever has caught my attention lately, be that my entire !!! playlist, which changes sometimes daily, or just one song looped for hours on end). but if i'm really on the struggle bus and have to focus, i keep my earbuds in but don't listen to anything. i can't write in complete silence, but i like to have the world a little muffled when i'm concentrating

SKJCBVKJDSVB i have a couple writing pet peeves, but the main one for anime fics is when honorifics either aren't used at all or are replaced by the Western Equivalent. like it feels so so wrong to me when, say, yuuji just calls gojo JUST Gojo and not Gojo-sensei (or simply sensei), and i was reading a fic a while ago that had Mr. Gojo, and i full-body flinched followed by immediately closing the fic. i just can't do it. having no honorifics for Inner Thoughts is fine, but as soon as dialogue comes out there better be -sans and -senseis and -kuns thrown around or i will likely Leave

funnily enough i had this discussion with hina a couple days ago KJSDBVJKSBDV i've started to recognize that when i'm stuck on a scene it's because i Fucked Up something a couple paragraphs ago that drove me into a wall. so i usually stop writing and talk Out Loud to myself about what the necessary steps are in the scene to accomplish my goals (sometimes as simple as getting the characters from point A to point B) and then i go back and reread the scene from the beginning to look for where i fucked up. it's usually pretty easy to spot. and then i delete everything from that point forward (into the Kill Your Darlings doc they go) and start over

i do write chronologically! i enjoy thinking about and planning for future scenes, but i have to write chronologically. in the last long fic i wrote (and i'm anticipating it happening again for this one), i had an Epiphany for the climax about 60k in, and feverishly wrote literally an entire chapter in my notes app, and then promptly left it alone for the next 150k words. it helped to have that written out, though, because it was a constant reminder of This Is What I Want and therefore was always a question hanging over my head of How Do I Get Here?

most interesting cursed technique is a tie between megumi and yuuta! i'm obsessed with shadow powers; i will put them anywhere i can and love giving them to ocs (umbrius has some shadow abilities!). i'm also an animal person, so megumi really has just a 10/10 cool technique to me. i am also, however, obsessed with Copying as a power, because universes that have magic/power systems are often filled with this ego in characters revolving around being Super Unique, so to have a character who can just,,, copy them and be like actually this is Our power now :) is really cool and creates a fun narrative beat to boot

OUGH Suwabe Junichi kills it as Sukuna frfr he's such a talented voice actor i really don't think he ever misses. every character he has ever played has been an immediate obsession of mine. i really also have to shout out Enoki Junya like oh my god can he get emotions across. from cheerful and very obviously carefree to just screaming and sobbing and choking on his words it's just So Good he's so talented. no one else could have played yuuji as well as he does. (Uchida Yuuma also has my heart he's so so so so good)

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Omg I LOVE the 30th by Billie Eilish! 53 I believe. I am super excite.

I also really love this song and have been wanting to write something for it for a long time. This only forced me to do so lol so thank you!

Wanna force me to write? Send me a number from my list of prompts!

Click Here For My List

Number 15 - The 30th by Billie Eilish

tw; car accident

Eddie had just put his turn signal on when the sirens of the ambulance started to come from behind him. He was already running late for work, traffic was busier than normal and he was going to get his ass chewed out by his Uncle if he didn’t hurry his ass up. Groaning, he stays put instead of driving forward when his light finally turns green, unable to move the vehicle forward without driving in front of the ambulance.

His hands dance on his steering wheel, impatient as Ozzy’s boneyard plays in the background. Only a light buzz behind his ears compared to the panicked thoughts he was having about being late. “Come on, come on, come” He mutters under his breath. The light was green, but he was staying where he was as he watched the emergency vehicle fly by. The light goes yellow when the Ambulance is close but then turns red when it is finally out of the clear.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eddie curses. Hands slamming down on his steering wheel out of agitation. A slight bubble of shame formed in his stomach knowing that his reaction was ridiculous. Someone's life depended on that ambulance, while he would be perfectly fine being a few more seconds late then what he would have been if the ambulance didn’t get in his way. 

Taking a deep breath he waits for the light to turn green and doesn’t think much about the ambulance after those few very brief seconds. Rushing to get to work, pulling into his normal parking space ten minutes later. He’s so anxious about getting in trouble that his hands were a bit shaky and fumbling around with his binders of notes. All filled with ideas on getting his driver better. 

His driver is Steve Harrington, a more well known name in the racing industry then what he was used to. The people he normally ended up coaching normally started out small and grew into fame with his help. The way he preferred it but that was not the case here and he was constantly anxious about making himself look like a fool around the far more experienced Steve Harrington. Who probably didn’t even need a coach with the amount of knowledge he had. Which was why Eddie couldn’t stand the guy most days but also wanted to drop on one knee and propose to the guy for making some parts of his job easier. Possibly on both knees for more serious occasions. Though when Steve wasn’t putting Eddie into shock he was shooting down every idea Eddie had before it could even go into the ballpark of possibilities.

Speaking of the guy, Eddie had two missed calls from him. Probably to bitch him out about being late. Rolling his eyes a bit he slides his phone into his pocket, not thinking much about that either. He figured that he would see the other in a few minutes, till then he was going to enjoy the calm before the Harrington storm hit.

 They were now thankfully on speaking terms (the last argument they had almost led Eddie having to find a whole new career) and possibly fucking terms again. He wouldn’t be shocked if Steve ended up riding him in his car again out of pure spite for ignoring him. Or they would have another falling out. Who knows. He sure as hell didn’t know what was ever going to happen. 

Walking into the entrance of the building, people were flying around a lot more than what they normally did on a normal day. His face pinches up into confusion seeing people stopping mid place on the floor to pull their phone out. To look at God only knows what. Seemed to be very important. 

Eddie walks by, feeling very much out of the loop. Moving a hand and pulling his hair back as he hears the soft panicked voices of his coworkers. Only catching bits and pieces of what they were talking about. 

“Oh my god is he okay?”

“Was Dustin with him?” 

“When will the hospital say anything?” 

The more he heard the more concerned he started to grow. He no longer cared about being late, no one else seemed to either. He moves to the far back of the building, knocking on his Uncle's door before entering the small beat up office. The concern shifts to panic when he sees his Uncle hunched over his desk, phone pressed tightly against his ear as the news is pulled up on his computer. Something his Uncle refused to ever check out as he believed it only brought more negativity to his day. That and the man could barely function his phone, let alone his computer on a good day. And today he was handling both better than Eddie has ever seen him. 

“I don’t care, give me any update, literally anything.” Wayne says, a slight murmuring of words coming from whoever he was talking to on the phone. The older man looks up from where he was crouched over when he hears Eddie. “Hold on, I'll call you right back. Yeah- okay. Bye.” He rambles out. Tossing his phone down on the desk, not bothering to hang up. Whoever was on the other line was going to have to be responsible for hanging up. 

“What's going on?” Eddie asks, eyebrow raising up. His gut was doing flips. Something was terribly wrong, he knew it. But what terrible thing he had no clue and he hated being out of the loop/ 

“There was a car accident on the freeway, Steve drives in that way every morning and no one has heard from him.” Wayne explains. Running a hand through his thinning hair, Eddie’s sure more would fall out from this whole ordeal. 

“What do you mean no one has heard from him?” Eddie asks, panicked. Before realizing he had. ‘Wait- shit. He called me three times this morning. I didn’t pick up because I was on my way here.” He rambles out. Accidentally dropping his binder from underneath his arm. Not caring that the papers went all over the place, more worried about grabbing his phone from his pocket. Hands shaking as he does also nearly dropping that as well before his Uncle is gently taking it from him. 

“Breathe kid,” He says simply. Before he turns his nephew’s phone on. Clicking on the notifications that said he had three missed calls. Eyebrows pinching together, similar to that of Eddie as he clicks on the voicemail.

A slight coughing is heard immediately, causing terrible goosebumps to form up and down Eddie’s body. His first reaction is to lift his hand up and cover his mouth. 

“Hey, Eddie - it's Steve.” There's a long pause filled with shaky breathing. “I’m currently hanging upside down from a car and your stupid station decided to be the one that the channel changed to. Something- boneyard? I can’t tell if the screen is cracked.” Steve laughs a bit patheticly. Eddie could faintly hear one of the songs that he had been listening to that morning playing in the background. “And- I don’t think this song is helping. I’m so scared right now and they are singing about weed.” The man makes a pained noise as Eddie’s heart was in his stomach at this point. Face a bit pale, legs threatening to buckle at any moment. Steve was a professional race car driver, things like this shouldn’t be happening right now. 

“Wayne?” Eddie says panicked, tears forming in his eyes as he could feel a panic attack bubbling underneath his skin. Breathing became shallow as he tried to focus on Steve’s voice but it was hard. He was confident he would never be able to listen to ‘Sweet Leaf’ by Black Sabbath the same ever again. The familiar tune playing in the background as a louder cry is hear. Steve is obviously in pain and Eddie wants to be there. To hold him and let him know that everything was going to be okay.

Wayne is quick to stop the voicemail after that, realizing the rest was just Steve crying for help. Trapped in his vehicle, afraid for his life. Eddie's wide eyes were glossy as he met Waynes. Both of them sharing the same colored eyes as Eddie finally breaks down.

*  * * * * *

They had gotten the update about which hospital Steve was placed into an hour later. They were in the car and on their way there within a few minutes after finding out the man's location. Wayne took charge easily, driving his car and forcing Eddie in his passenger seat. Refusing to let the other drive in the state he was in. 

Eddie hated hospitals, and this occasion was no different. It took them a ridiculous amount of time just to sign in, filling out paperwork (Where Eddie lied about being Steve’s boyfriend) and shit. If word about this got out, that race car driver Steve Harrington was with a guy? His rep would be down the toilet. A part of him is worried that the nurses at the front desk would say something to the media, but he was more concerned about Steve and put that thought in the back of his mind. Letting Wayne handle everything.

It took them two hours to finally be allowed into Steve’s hospital room. Where he laid in mostly all white, except for the ugliest hospital gown known to man. And Eddie felt like one of the sickest men alive for even having the thought that Steve somehow looked pretty in a hospital gown. In a hospital where he nearly lost his life. Sighing in relief when he hears the others heart monitor going, seeing the others shallow breathing as he sleeps along with the soft snores that once annoyed the hell out of him. After this was all over he was never going to complain about the other being a lawn mower. That was if he ever stayed the night with Eddie again after a hookup. 

Eddie's hand shakes as the overwhelming smell of hospital hits his nose the strongest near Steve. He slowly walks to the other side, afraid to wake him and mostly worried about hurting him if he even touches him. The other was a smidge to pale for his liking, causing Eddies anxiety to raise more. Moving his fingers carefully to the other's forehead, brushing back a few strands of hair as he sees a huge bandage wrapped around his head. 

The simple touch that had so much concern put behind it didn’t seem to be soft enough to not wake up the other man. And fuck. Steve Harrington was the most gorgeous man alive, and Eddie was definitely falling in love with his stupid dopey smile. Forgetting to breathe as his eyes meet the others, both of them start to tear up a bit. Steve moves closer to Eddie as he smiles wetly. Tears running down his face, he was very much out of it but it didn't stop him before deliriously looking at Eddie like he was his whole world.

“You came.”

Whatever shell Eddie had built up was broken immediately with those two words. Finally allowing the other in. 

“Of course sweetheart, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t.” He smiles gently. Carefully placing his hand on the other's face as he traces every detail. Quickly deciding he was going to pick drawing back up after all of this. So he could trace the other features down on paper and immortalize him.

“Boyfriend?” Steve asks, confused, but a wide smile breaks out onto his face. Before he starts to repeat the word over and over again like it was keeping him grounded in this room, along with Eddie's hand. Obviously high off his mind as he mumbles softly. “Love that- love you.” Under his breath before he tiredly moves his head to the side to fall asleep. As if he didn’t shatter and rearranged Eddie’s world with just a few words.