#the acoustics in this building? insane

[fireflylies]

yeah so hearing faint children's laughter in the walls is a wild way to find out there's a daycare in the basement of the building you're sitting in

[ron456]

AHHHHH- IM SO SICK OF THE BS I SWEAR-

FIRST OF ALL-

He doesn't "act naturally" or "normal" because HE'S AUTISTIC-

Will Roland portrays him as AUTISTIC so he's gonna act AUTISTIC-

ALSOOOO- IT'S BROADWAY, BABE- THEY NEED TO BE OVERDRAMATIC AND VERY EXPRESSIVE OTHERWISE THE PREFORMANCE DOESN'T CARRY THROUGH THE WHOLE THEATRE-

AND ANOTHER THING- Jeremy is supposed to be a "loser"-

he gets bullied and is misunderstood by his peers because he is, well, NOT CHILL-

HE'S "CHALANT" AS HELL-

He gets bullied because he cares about things too much, he's anxious, he's loud-

And in regards to the "can't hold a note for too long"- have you heard Loser, Geek, Whatever? Or More Than Survive? Or Two Player Game??? Song where he holds notes for quite a long time- ALSO- to say that Will Roland can't reach the same notes as Will Connolly is just... not true.

And one of the reasons I think some people think Will Roland is "a worse singer" is because, sometimes, stylistically, Will Roland will use a sort of falsetto/head voice (which I LOVE BTW AND IM SICK OF PEOPLE CALLING OTHER PEOPLE BAD SINGERS BECAUSE THEY USE HEAD VOICE- IT'S BEAUTIFUL, IMPRESSIVE, AND REQUIRES GOOD BREATH CONTROL TO MAKE IT NOT SOUND CRAPPY AND WILL ROLAND DOES IT AMAZINGLY) like when he says "hero" and "Rob Dinero" (idk if that's how you spell it 😭) in More Than Survive.

It's not that he's a bad singer, he is taking the brunt of his voice during those parts and also, given that it's this little solo/soliloquy moment for Jeremy, I think that Will Roland's choice to use a light head voice there is perfectly well-placed. It feels kinda personal, I guess. And I love it <3

Not to say that Will Connolly's way of singing it isn't also great. It's awesome! But like, guys, we can't keep getting pissed when a new actor in a show doesn't have the exact same singing voice as the original 😭 That's just silly, guys. 😭

(LIKE WHEN PEOPLE GOT PISSED AT ELIZABETH TEETER'S LYDIA FOR SOUNDING TOO MUSICAL THEATRE-Y?? LIKE. HUH?!? GUYS, IT'S BROADWAY- WHAT DO YOU MEANNN??? Sorry, I have feelings- Also, Shoutout to Elizabeth Teeter, btw, cuz' she slayed <3)

Anywaysss- back to Will Roland's voice- he is very much capable of hitting the notes that Will Conolly hits- if not higher (IT'S NOT A COMPETION THO, GUYS- PLS DONT COME FOR ME). For example, the acoustic version of Loser, Geek, Whatever on Spotify which, I believe, is a key higher than usual!! This man can belt some high notes when the situation calls for it! And also, (these are not really bmc related but whatever) during the harmony or whatever at the end of "Sincerely, Me", that is none other than WiLL RoLaND (!!!) hitting that high E (I'm pretty sure it's an E. I hope it's an E. But regardless, it's still a SUPER HIGH NOTE) at the end! And in "Amphibian" on Joe Iconis' album titled, well, "Album", Will Roland hits some insanely high notes!!! ( EVEN IF THEY ARE HEAD VOICE. I REPEAT, HEAD VOICE DOES NOT MEAN BAD SINGER!!)

Also, as a little additional statement to my "Jeremy is autistic/ autistic-coded so Will Roland played him as autistic"; this is not to say that Will Conolly didn't add some "autistic flare", if you will, to Jeremy. I mean, just yesterday I was freaking out with my friend about a gif of Will Conolly's Jeremy doing the autistic flappy hands :))). And I think that he was a good baseline for other Jeremy's to build off of!

Also, I feel like the people that are saying that Will Roland's portrayal of autism/neurodiversity is "ableist" or "incorrect" or "too dramatic" are sorta failing to understand/acknowledge that autism/neurodiversity is a spectrum. Not every person with autism or another kind of Neurodiversity is gonna act the same. And I think that's something really beautiful that we should all cherish. It is GREAT that we are all different but also, in many ways, the same!

And to see myself and my uncontrolled speaking voice and weird noises and such represented by Will Roland on stage is such a beautiful thing that I think 'ought to be cherished.

[cambria-writes]

welcome to the very final chapter of honey and the hatchet! 🎉 it quite literally took eight whole entire years to get here, but i finally made it!

big thank you to everyone who's stuck around, read and flooded my notes with likes and shares this story around. i cannot express in any language i know how significant and meaningful that is.

for those who might be wondering, i used these photos of a suite at the macarthur to kind of situate myself.

...also sorry for kind of maybe edging you at the end there lol anyways enjoy!

pairing: patrick jane x named reader/ofc word count: 4,883 rating: A for adult content, MDNI warnings: smut, wearing, i know nothing about opera, PiV, unprotected sex, mild dom/sub, sir kink, neck grabbing but no choking, hair pulling if you squint, mentions of planned murders, relatively minor injuries (jane might have a cracked rib it's probably find), confession, the L word, this was not proofread and i'm almost sorry, please let me know if I should take anything else!

previousmasterlist

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ℭ𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔷𝔞

Several Months Later

An opera house. A fucking opera house is where you end up spending Christmas Eve. It’s not something that a lot of people would get upset about, normally, and you know this. That’s why you’ve schooled your face into an expression that’s more rich, entitled boredom than resentful impatience.

But you’re in a box for a fancy show, wearing a dress that definitely costs more just to look at than your apartment likely does in a whole calendar year, and there’s free alcohol. Not that you’ve been indulging up until now, but it’s nice to know that there’s expensive, free booze for when you will be able to pay attention to literally anything else. 

Right now, your eyes are half-heartedly trailing around the stage, eventually halting at the Sopranist singing her heart out. You can’t make out the lyrics at all—never could, with how broad and loud the voices are in operatic compositions, nevermind the insane acoustics of this place—but the sound of the song feels appropriate. A slow build that keeps on building despite several fake-outs that make you believe you’re finally out of this eternal musical waiting.

Conveniently, it’s when the Sopranist pauses for a quick breath that you hear it. The drag of a foot against an old velvet rug. You whip your fan open and feign interest in the elaborate emotional display the singer is putting on. You’re not worried; you know you look like every other bored twenty-something in this place.

Patrick had personally made sure of that. 

“Enjoying yourself?” A woman asks, her deep, airy voice drifting around you as she moves to sit down to your left, French accent heavy in her words. She flips open a small hand fan with a short “thwap” before turning her attention to you.

Madame Jonquière is someone whose gaze feels heavy. Patrick hadn’t told you much about her. Just that she was at Stonewall and that he owed her a favour. Didn’t mention what the favour was for, and you didn’t bother prying any further. Madame Joncquière’s eyes go down to your hands for a second before meeting yours again. She smiles politely and inclines her head expectantly. You realize you haven’t answered yet.

“Sorry, yes,” you reply quickly. Clear your throat before looking back at the stage. “I can’t understand most of it but it sounds lovely. Thank you for letting me accompany you tonight.”

Madame Joncquière swings open a hand fan with a muted ‘fwap’ before fanning herself. “Oh no, thank you for your presence tonight!” she exclaims quietly, leaning forward closer to you.  You grin and leave over. “No one ever wants to come to the opera house with me anymore. They all think it’s boring!”

You laugh quietly along with her. Madame Joncquière leans back into her chair and fixes her gaze to the stage. You appreciate the space she’s leaving you. Despite the fact that she knows damn well that you’re here to make sure she doesn’t get assassinated, she seems to be taking everything in good stride.

You watch his back as he carefully pours a drink out of a shaker. You have no idea what prompted him to pick you up at 11:30AM for cocktail hour. On a Wednesday. In the empty, closed bar of some man who happened to also owe him a favour. You hadn’t expected an explanation. But Patrick had kept silent the whole car ride. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, but the whole time you can’t help but feel like you’re being psychologically edged. You can only refrain from asking the slew of questions floating in your head for so long.

A highball glass filled with some strange red-purple liquid swirling enticingly inside it. The colours almost make the ice look like it’s sparkling. You’re dazzled for a second before looking up at Patrick.

“One Purple Haze for our esteemed guest,” he says, dramatically, with a flourish and a bow. You laugh quietly before picking up the highball. Hold the glass up to the light to watch the colours mingle.

“It’s definitely nice to look at.” Distracted, you don’t notice Patrick walking out from behind the island to stand behind you. You don’t flinch when his cold hands part your hair to slide down your neck and rest on your shoulders. “Am I really expected to drink this before lunch? I haven’t even had breakfast.” 

“I did tell you to get up early last night,” Patrick says, voice low, by your ear. “Sounds like someone snoozed their alarm four too many times.”

You don’t answer. You instead try to see how quickly you can down the purple haze that was handed to you. Hoping to maybe inherit some of its own haze. You only stop when you’ve gulped down half.

“It’s a bad one, by the way,” Patrick adds, pressing a soft kiss at your temple before moving away. He sits on the stool next to you, slotting his knees between yours. “You’re supposed to pour the liqueur last to let it settle at the bottom. It isn’t supposed to swirl like that.”

You hum in understanding a look at the glass in the light again. “Shame, it looks nice this way.” Bring the glass back to your mouth for another sip. “Why am I getting a lesson in mixology today?”

“You’re going to the opera,” he starts, and you chug the rest of the drink before bracing yourself for another briefing. “And I’m going to need you to remember to order this, and how it’s supposed to be made.”

You frown. “Okay, so if I get it and it’s well made that means… what?”

Patrick smirks. Your stomach flips, entirely unaided by his hands running up your thighs. “It means I might have gotten… held up.”

“And this is… bad?”

Patrick hums and leans in, brushes his nose against your jaw. “If you consider first degree murder ‘bad’ then yes, it would be quite bad.”

You scoff at the blazé tone he takes, but it’s half-hearted. His fingers are working their way up your loose shorts toward your hips. 

“It might be a bad idea to sip at something that might have been poisoned.”

Ah, so this was it. 

Patrick hadn’t kept you in the loop for the entirety of this particular… situation. Not only because Madame J had gone to see him directly rather than the CBI, for reasons that hadn’t been obvious at the time, but because this seemed to be a personal slight. You’d kindly asked to be kept at an arm’s length for it all; solving murders had been one thing, but actively trying to prevent one felt beyond you.

You put your hands over his to halt their movement. Patrick immediately pulled back, brows furrowed in concern.

“I feel like too much hinges on me here,” you say quietly, pointedly staring at your knees. You can see the veins starting to honeycomb on your hands. Your fingertips feel cold and stiff.

“You don’t have to,” Patrick answers, just as quietly, pulling one of his hands back to run down your face, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I can bully Rigsby into it.”

You can’t help but laugh a little. He’d probably love the chance to go out at the opera with someone who also wants to be there.

“How long do I have to think about it?” 

“Only until Saturday,” Patrick answers, and you can hear the apology in his voice. The last-minute nature of this annoys you–it only gives you three days, including today, to decide whether or not you want to be the final hurdle.

“I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow.”

The evening goes well enough. You still can’t understand much of what’s being sung, but you enjoy the performance. The drama and emotion in the acting, while singing, is something that’s at least legitimately interesting to watch. 

You occasionally look over the audience as well. Your perch from the box gives you a fantastic vantage point to see most everyone in the hall. The hairs at the back of your neck have been raising every now and then. Same feeling as you get being observed in the dark. But every time you try to scan the crowd, everyone’s either facing the stage or canted forward in somnolence.

You hear a knock at the door of your box before the door opens. This is it, you think. You’d ordered drinks just as you were coming back from the intermission. You take a quick look at the dainty gold watch Patrick had wrapped around your wrist earlier in the evening. It’s been… fifteen minutes. Which seems like an awful long time to prepare a purple haze and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

You don’t bother turning at all until you hear the serving tray being gently placed on the table between you and Madame J. You note, with no small amount of relief, that your purple haze muddled to absolute fuck and back. Perfectly safe to drink then.

Your server speaks up just as you notice, reaching for your glass, that there’s quite a spill on the tray.

“Au plaisir, mesdames.”

A thrill runs up your spine. Madame Joncquière looks up while you slowly wrap your fingers around the cool glass. She almost makes a joyful exclamation, but seems to stop halfway through taking in a breath for you. Keep your eyes on your drink while you listen to retreating footsteps, muted on carpet, until you hear the door open and close again.

Madame J’s hand lands softly on your shoulder to give it a squeeze. 

“How wonderful of Monsieur Jane to come look in on us himself!” she says to you, barely above a whisper. “Shall we cheers to that then, chérie?” 

Your heart still thrums in your chest from the thrill of it all. You raise your glass along with her, but just before knocking it against Madame J’s, you draw your hands back.

“Would you mind indulging me?” you ask quietly, trying to control the smirk threatening to take over your expression. 

Madame Joncquière clearly sees the scheming glint in your eyes and doesn’t hide her grin. It’s toothy, like a fox. And you feel like a peer, having caught a rabbit dead to rights. 

“Absolument! What would you like?” She leans in closer over the small end table between you. 

You carefully move to grab her wine glass and press your glass to her palm. She beams and immediately gets your meaning. You link arms together, giggling quietly as you try not to spill your respective drinks. 

“Cheers to yet another wonderful night on this train wreck of a planet,” you say, tilting the wine glass to clink against the highball. 

“I’ll drink to that!”

No sooner has the wine touched your lips, you hear a small commotion in the audience. Not enough to interrupt the show, but not something that won’t be noticed. 

The wine is bitter and sour on your tongue and you don’t bother to school your expression into something tame. Madam J laughs quietly behind her fan and offers your drink back. You hastily hand her back her awful wine and nurse your significantly sweeter cocktail.

The rest of the evening is blessedly uneventful. Patrick doesn’t make another appearance, but you don’t expect him to. You were surprised that he showed up personally in the first place. At the end of the show, after having another attendant–a real one, this time–slips you both back into your coats. Opens the door and thanks you for your patronage and only closes the door behind you once you’re most of the way down the hallway. Madame J links your arms together as you walk, chittering away about the singers’ performance. 

Once you reach the lobby, excuses herself for a moment to make a phone call. You make your way over to a plush lounge chair by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a seat. It’s fairly early, for a Sunday evening, so you pass the time people watching. Your phone vibrates in your coat pocket just as you see Madame Joncquière making her way over to you. Quickly look at your phone notification. 

‘Have her drop you off here,’ followed by an address and a room number. You don’t have time to respond back and ask where the fuck that is before Madame J extends her hand out to you. 

“I’ve been instructed to provide transportation for you, chère,” she says as you accept her hand to stand. “You’re alright to give my driver your address, yes?” 

Your body doesn’t seem to know if it should be excited or apprehensive. You acquiesce to Madame J after a second. Once you do actually enter her car–a vintage Cadillac with the classic wings–and let the driver know where to drop you off, she practically begins vibrating in her seat next to you. 

“Oh, please, you have to tell me who you’re meeting there!” she says, eagerly reaching for and grabbing your hands. The question must be written on your face because she laughs giddily. “Ma belle, the MacArthur is a veritable oasis in Sacramento. If you’re going there and you don’t know this, someone is very eager to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

This time the excitement wins over; you can feel your face heating up and you’re not entirely sure what your face is doing. You struggle to come up with something to say to that–what do you say to that?--but Madame Joncquière giggles some more and pats your thigh.

“So it’s Monsieur Jane, after all? What a man. I wonder who he conned into letting him stay there tonight.” 

“Probably someone else who owes him a favour,” you mutter. Your cheeks hurt from trying not to smile too widely.

“That would be a pretty sizeable favour to cash in on for leisure.” Her tone says she’s just thinking out loud, but you think you understand what Madame J’s trying to say.

Awful big favour to cash in on one woman. Must be a special one.

You try not to think too much about it.

The general manager meets you at the car. You wouldn’t have known he was the general manager if Madame Joncquière hadn’t turned into a gossipy 14 year old girl at the sight of him exiting the hotel doors. He opens the car door for you and helps you out with a hand.

“Lovely to have you, Ms Benraft. I’m Stephen Crawford, General Manager,” he introduces himself, taking a moment to lean forward to address Madam J. “Always a pleasure, Madame. Your friend will be in good hands with us.” 

“Always a pleasure, Monsieur Crawford. Have a wonderful night, chérie,” she finishes while addressing you, tossing a wink. “À la prochaine!” 

The general manager understands his cue to close the door, and the Cadillac slowly pulls away. 

You’re guided through the main building, where Stephen explains the history of the hotel and its various accommodations, all of which go into one ear and out the other. You’re taking directly to your lodgings, and  the general manager assures you that all amenities have been accounted for, including a late dinner and, in his words, “a small wardrobe in anticipation of whatever you would find comfortable”. 

You’re starting to understand why Madame Joncquière reacted the way that she did. Patrick has treated you to luxuries before–dinners, various events, even a trip out of the country–but none of it felt quite this… decadent. Almost overindulgent, actually. 

It truly feels like being spoiled rotten, and you’re still not sure how you feel about it.

Stephen hands you a very intricate key and steps back to wish you a good night, and that the front desk is available 24/7 should there ever be anything you need. You thank him and wait until he’s out of sight before turning back to the door. 

Your blood feels like it’s effervescing in your veins.

You consider knocking first, but decide to just let yourself into the room. You’re expected, after all, so it shouldn’t really matter, right? 

The first thing you notice is the fireplace. Then, the plush chairs, then the bed, then the bay window. The lighting is dim; only two lamps lit and the faint glow from the electric fireplace. The last thing you register is the sound of a shower running. 

You carefully close the door behind you and shrug your coat off, throw it in the direct of one of the chairs to your right. Walking further in, you spot a desk in a took to the left of the door with a chair conveniently pulled out. You carefully sit down to remove your shoes. Beautiful as they are and however aesthetically pleasant it was to have them match your dress, you’re happy to have them off. Carefully massage the soles of your feet, rotate your ankles, before leaning back in the chair.

This is lovely. You almost feel like you’re in one of those secluded little getaway suites in Bali or something. The vibes certainly match, even if late December weather is a bit too chilly. If you actually just let yourself enjoy everything for a second, and stop worrying about what it cost, this is just very nice. 

Maybe you’re starting to feel a little less spoiled and a little more pampered.

You’ve half dozed off by the time you feel warm hands on your shoulders. You sleepily hum, content, and sit up a little straighter. Stifle a yawn behind your hand and hear Patrick chuckle behind you.

“Have fun?”

You groan as you stretch. “Mm, would’ve been more fun withou–”

You cut yourself off after turning around and actually lay eyes on Patrick’s face. His lower lip is split on his left, and there’s a cut above the brow on the same side that you immediately know was from getting decked in the face. There’s also a disconcertingly large bruise on his left side, above his ribs, and you can’t fathom what would have caused that.

“Oh my–shit, are you okay? What happened?” 

You get halfway to standing up before Patrick gently presses you back down onto the chair. “Nothing too bad, I promise,” he answers, almost cajoling. Well, he’s breathing fine, from what you can see and hear. And he doesn’t seem like someone who got stabbed, you don’t think.

You still let the fingers of your left hand glide over the bruise. Patrick does a decent enough job to hide the wince, but it’s still there.

“Can I at least know what caused this one?” “Fire extinguisher.”

The words take a second to sink in before you start laughing. The image in your mind is absolutely far more cartoonish than what actually happened, for sure, but after an entire night of holding your breath, you can feel the tension start draining from your shoulders.

You turn back to face away from Patrick, and he resumes kneading the stress out of your traps and your neck. Thumbs dig into your neck on either side of your spine. It feels heavenly. Your breath catches when a shudder runs up your spine. There’s a heat that flares at the base of your spine when you feel his fingers gently wrap and brace against the sides of your throat.

“You did well tonight,” Patrick whispers into your hair. Takes a moment to brush your hair away before pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

You temper the rising, bubbling pride. “I didn’t even have to do anything.”

You can feel his laughter at the back of your neck. Hands slide down your arms before you feel him resting his forehead on your shoulder. 

“Switching your drinks was a clever idea.” You feel Patrick pulling away, squeak in surprise when he grabs the sides of the chair to spin you around. Crouches in front of your–and only now do you realize that he’s only got a towel around his waist, which parts dangerously wide as he lowers himself. “Made it a lot easier to catch our guy.”

Whatever tension in our shoulders Patrick hasn’t been able to dispel and disperse with his hands just… vanished. It had been a relief, initially, to know that Madame was safe and sound and not at risk of dying a slow, horrible, poisoned death. For the past 48 hours, it’s been a struggle to reign in your mind. You could barely sleep at night just for trying to distract yourself from what would happen if you didn’t pay well enough attention.

Patrick runs his hands over your thighs, up to your hips, tapping twice with his thumbs.

“I’m here,” you say airily, shaking off your thoughts to look Patrick in the eyes. “Just basked in the fact that it’s over now.” Lift a hand up to his face and gently smoothing your thumb below the cut at his brow. “Starting to wonder if I should have been worrying about you this whole time, instead.”

“Probably should have,” Patrick shrugs, and there’s a thrill that runs through you when you think, Of course I should have, of course you’d be getting yourself in some kind of mess.

He doesn’t say anything else when he stands back up and extends a hand out to help you to your feet. You feel silly for it, but you giggle when he makes you twirl, puling you back in with a hand at your waist. 

“Love the dress,” Patrick says, dipping in for a peck on the lips. “Where’d you get it?”

You scoff to compensate for the blood rushing to your face. “Some absolute scamp made me wear it tonight.”

Leading you into a slow, gentle sway by the fireplace, he puts on a show of looking offended. You laugh lightly at the exaggeration, but clear your throat once his expression settles. 

“I suppose the scamp should take it back, then,” he answers, voice low as the hand that held yours skips over ribs and moves up your back. 

You tilt your head when he begins to place opened-mouthed kisses down your neck. You let him pull your zipper down but otherwise don’t help him. Not that he needs much help; once the zipper stops, nearly at the very bottom of your spine, the top of your dress simply crumples away, taking the rest down with it.

Patrick takes a moment to pull back, hands smoothing down your upper arms as he takes a look at you. There’s a very self-content smirk on his face when he takes stock of the lacey, racy lingerie you’re wearing. A hand reaches down and tugs at your garter before letting it snap back into place.

God, the way he looks at you with such open, raw hunger continues to do things to you that you hadn’t known anyone was capable of. Until him.

“Even happier to see someone can follow instructions,” Patrick comments, sounding every part like the cat that got the cream. Both hands both over your hips, up your ribs, thumbs tracing the underside of your breasts.

Patrick leans in, lips barely brushing against yours. “Think you can keep following instructions?” 

You sigh shakily at his tone. “Yes, sir.”

You can feel his chest vibrate with his rumble of appreciation. He doesn’t speak when he tugs you along to bed. Doesn’t need to tell you what to do when he sits, tossing the towel from his waist in the general direction of the sitting area, leaning against the headboard. You dutifully install yourself on his lap, slowly settling your weight over his thighs. 

With two hands firmly on your rear, Patrick pulls you in as close as he can. Thrusts his hips up as he does so. Just the heat of his erection, throbbing against your damp underwear, has you moaning behind tightly sealed lips.

“That’s it,” Patrick encourages when you begin to rut against him without prompting. “Take what you want, I’ll give you the rest.” The rest of his sentence is almost unintelligible as he takes turns between kissing and nipping at your breasts. The bra is a pathetic excuse for fabric, and you understand why he had you wear this particular set; it almost feels as though there’s nothing at all between your skin and the wet heat of his mouth.

It doesn’t take long before you have to brace yourself against Patrick’s shoulders, and soon after that you find yourself whining as you toss your head back. The friction and heat are both wonderful in their own respect, but the angle is wrong, and it’s not nearly enough. 

You’re ravenous, and Patrick is a meal that loves to hold himself out of reach just a bit past long enough.

“Use your words,” he breathes into your collarbones, one hand moving us to massage at one of your breasts while the other moves lower. Down past the delicate lace waist of your panties, thumb teasing around your clit. 

“Fuck,” you choke out, unable to keep yourself from grinding down harder and faster in the hopes that something will change. 

“Not quite enough words,” Patrick quips, and you growl, annoyed. Bring your head back forward and do your best to maintain eye contact. 

It still feels embarrassing, even now. To say it out loud.

You’re learning to accept that… maybe you’re just. A little bit into that.

“Please, sir,” you start, clearing your throat and swallowing thickly. “I would very much like you to fuck me, please.”

Patrick practically purrs, satisfied. This part, too, is well rehearsed. You muster just enough self control to raise your hips. Enough room so he can pull his cock forward. Enough for you to gather saliva in your mouth and let it dribble down. Over Patrick’s hand, and over his cock.

He groans with the feeling of it as you exhaled in something you think might be awe. His eyes are close and head tilted back. He looks debauched, you think, but not quite enough. 

“Can I–can I touch, sir?” you pants, hands already raised by the sides of his head.

“Can’t say no when you ask so nicely,” he breathes out. You immediately run your hands through his hair, digging your fingertips into his scalp. He moans, a drawn-out thing that has your cunt clenching in a desperate way. 

A shudder like electricity shoots through you when you feel Patrick simply pulling aside the gusset of your underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. He takes a second–during which you whine in complaint–to get a hand at the back of your head, fisting the hair there just enough to get your attention. Look down at him with impatient, hooded eyes. 

“You’ll forgive the terrible timing,” he starts, sounding about as breathless as you’re sure you currently do. “But there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“You’re right,” you groan, leaning your head forward to rest against his. “It’s terrible ti–”

Your sentence is blissfully interrupting when Patrick thrusts up into you. Not quite hilting himself, but damn well near it. You’re not sure what you would call the sound that cracked its way out of your throat. He groans in unison with you, and you’re not sure who’d trying to pull who in closer.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes out, one hand guiding your hips to slowly move against him, the other smoothing the hair at the back of your head. “I love you.”

You keen, a quick, sharp pitched sound. Push yourself just far away to look him in the eyes. Takes him a second to build enough composure back off to raise his head and look at you straight on.

He’s been unguarded before, sure, but not like this. There’s something swirling in your chest and low in your abdomen. Something heavy, heady. 

“Christ,” you exhale, lifting your hips before slamming them back down. Your sharp inhale catches in your throat and Patrick bites back another groan. “Worst timing. Other women would question your motives.”

“Mmh, good thing you aren’t any other woman.” The end of his sentence is punctuated by a particularly sharp thrust upward. You can feel the tip of his cock just brushing against your cervix, and the jolt it sends through has you grinding down back in turn. 

Patrick winds his arms around your back and presses your against his chest. You feel him bracing his feet against the mattress, immediately move to grab the edge tof he headboard. Feel him chuckle under you, flinch when you feel teeth against one of your nipples through the sparse lace.

“Fortunate that I love you too, then.”

You don’t get to properly register the sound you hear bubbling up from the back of Patrick’s throat before he thrusts back up into you. Sets a pace that might’ve been brutal, but even in the haze of oxytocin in your brain you can recognize that this is relief. 

A man that’s been alone and snarling at and against the world for so many years just… just told you he loves you.

When you feel a hand make its way around your throat, you take the cue. 

It’s a tomorrow problem.

Tonight you can just feel, and bask in several jobs well done.

Tag List

@fucklife-or-me @mamacakeishereforfun @newavenger @yearningforsappho @natsukee @piper570 @rikuisthesweetestboy @berry-blink @wandabillywrites @leftovers-and-headrubs @pauphs @gamingfeline @racoonkitty @dogmatic255 

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hiii ! Can I request an Hobie x reader where they’re both spider hero and hobie is in love with the reader. But she lost her boyfriend Peter Parker (because yk cannon event). And she sees him again (like another version) and hobie can sees the love in her eyes so angst a bit. Maybe fluff at the end idk.

It’s was so messy lol but I hope it’s okay for you ;)

Hidden feelings

Hobie tried to not get too close to anyone, he knows what happens when he does. But he couldn’t help but be attracted to you, almost like a magnet.

Even though you were his friend, and you were still mourning, he loved you. He couldn’t help it.

You had just learned about the spider society, and have gone in once. Every time you heard someone’s name was Peter your heart broke.

He saw it in your eyes, you had really missed Peter. So, like a good friend, he didn’t let the feelings he had for you get in his way of comforting you and helping you.

It happened at lunch, you and him were talking and eating.

Then, one of the peters had taken off their mask, you stopped talking for a moment and stared. He looked exactly like your Peter, you thought.

The brown hair, the beautiful brown eyes, and the same exact build.

But your Peter wasn’t spiderman. And you knew that.

You found yourself staring at him for a while, Hobie a little confused as he looked to what you were looking at.

“You alright?” He asked, thick accent cutting you out of your trance. You looked at him and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” You mumbled, despite the tears in your eyes threatening to spill.

“I don’t believe that.” He said.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again.

“He just… looks like my Peter. Exactly like him.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and looking down at the table, messing with your food now.

Hobie frowned. Of course. “Oh. Yeah.” Was all he could say before he was also messing with his food.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to…” you started but didn’t finish.

“No, you didn’t. You have perfectly good reason, alright?” He said, looking back at you.

You nodded slowly and looked back at the Peter, he was staring back, and then when you looked he quickly turned around.

—————————————————————-

His hidden feelings grew more and more, he tried so hard to keep them down, but it wouldn’t work.

You both were currently laying down, eating popcorn and watching your favorite show at Hobies apartment.

“Ugh, no! Don’t go back to him.” You rolled your eyes at the screen.

“She needs to sort out her priorities.” Hobie shook his head, and threw popcorn at the screen as you both laughed.

“Never took you for a Harry Potter fan.” You smirked.

Hobie shrugged “I was a nerd. Still am, have you seen my room?” He looked around, and pointed to the multiple posters and action figures hanging around, along with tons of pictures and guitars.

(Most of the stuff stolen)

“I know.” You laughed and he smiled at you.

“I love you.” The boy on the screen said, you both turned your attention back to it.

“Ugh, seriously?!” You groaned.

“This is insane. There’s no way.” Hobie shook his head.

“He cheated on you once he’ll do it again!” You said.

Hobie looked at you, and you looked at him.

“So, you stayin’ or what?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah, obviously.”

Hobie smirked and sat up, he turned off the show and you sat up as well.

He pulled guitar from its stand, and put it in his lap. And this time it wasn’t his electric guitar, instead it was his acoustic, which he rarely had played.

He started to play a soft melody, the chords sounded familiar and it gave you a warm feeling, smiling at his playing.

He payed attention to your reaction, as well as the strings.

After he was done, he grabbed your hands and put it in your lap instead. You looked at him confused.

“C’mon. Let me teach you.” He said.

You shrugged “why not.”

He sat behind you, and he put his hands on top of yours. Your cheeks heated up at the feeling, and your heart started beating faster.

First he made sure you weren’t holding it awkwardly, then he slowly put the right fingers on the right chords, and he told you to strum, which you did. It created a short sound, but it was beautiful. Hobie smiled at you.

“You’re a natural.”

“Well, it’s only cause I gotta good teacher.”

He laughed and you looked back at him, you glanced at his lips. He slowly leaned in, and you did as well.

You turned around and put your hands on his chest, then you guys pulled away.

“I like you..” he said.

“I got that.” You laughed quietly, and went in for another kiss.

_________________________________________

Tag list:

@enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx xx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy y @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2

[gamerbearmira]

bh6 au bh6 au bh6 au!!! AHUAHSF but heya, hope you're doing well, and we dont have a specific name for this au yet, mayhaps we can find one but yesyes bh6 au!! (i am going insane /lh) me is attempting to write rn hehe <3

BH6 AU💪💪💪

It’s so cool, me and the asker have been working on it <333 instead of gifts, they specialize in certain tech and stuff 🗿

Basically Pedro is there. And it’s Antonio’s presentation at the college (he’s still 5, they’re all prodigies and presented at 5, except Mirabel who presented a little later cause she hadn’t decided her science concentration yet 😭😭). Anyway, Pedro sacrifices himself to save Señora Guzmán and boom died.

Alma hid the project he was gonna show the family that he was working on for a long time: Baymax. Basically Mirabel and the grandkids find him and he’s chill, helping them grieve and stuff. The pressure for this au is Alma taking Pedro’s saying “someone has to help” as the family needed to use their tech and intelligence around the city to help other people. And never expand on their tech. Always the same thing.

Anyway, here’s their sciences (all the Madrigals, including the husbands + Alma and Oedro are like. Literal prodigies, mostly in science, but other stuff 🤧):

Fields of Study:

pedro - robotics

alma - forensic engineering

-------

julieta - health sciences

agustin - language and literature

pepa - meteorology

felix - sociology and music

bruno - physics

-------

isabela - botany

dolores - acoustics

luisa - kinesiology

camilo - neuroscience

mirabel - psychology

antonio - zoology

—————

There’s so much more about this au but like. That’s the gist of it <333 if you guys have any ideas LET US KNOWWWWW ‼️‼️‼️ the adults actually later becomes hero’s and funnily enough they’re all hiding it from each other and Alma is entirely clueless 😭😭

Well, the grandkids become super cool heros and obviously Baymax is there (I didn’t draw him YET 💀) and here are their designs <333 COLOR COMING TO TUMBKR DASH NEAR YOU📸📸

Here’s their tech and stuff:

Isabela, maybe something similar to Honey Lemon, but she uses the chemicals of different plants that has different (non lethal) effects? She throws pollen pods like honey lemon does and whatever plants she makes all disappear after a certain amount of time or something, oh and her vines she uses to swing ofc, they're very durable. CARBON FIBER VINES ❗❗

Dolores, maybe she uses soundwaves and sounds in general, and uses something similar to a giant megaphone and speaks; does a lot of knockback.

Luisa, I feel like she would have attachable enhancements, kinda like gauntlets and boots that allow her to further utilize her strength and stamina etc etc

Camilo, maybe his tech tricks the mind, lots of illusions and stuff, and he definitely has a camouflage suit, so he's good for stealth and sneaking up on enemies. He might also go beyond from just people, might even have animals and objects too since its really illusion (mayhaps an upgrade later down the line in their endeavor) Ohhh, a upgrade would be really good and show how he (and the others) develop his tech further

Mirabel’s tech works with Baymax, so it's pretty similar to Hiro's, though I think she would be a jack of all trades as well. Also mentioned in what i wrote that she has a bag of tech goodies (inspired by her good ol bag in canon and also that one ask i saw about her magic bag)

Antonio, like I said before, uses robot animals. He builds them and sends then out, controlling them maybe via a headset similar to the microbots, and the animals have cameras so he can see what they see. I think maybe when he builds P.A.R.C.E (the giant robot jaguar; a.k.a Precision Automated Robotic Companion Entity) the other grandkids will let him go out to battle. Also lets him be at the final battle.

Still working on the adults 🤭🤭🤭

[livsworld-ndstyle]

destigmatizing mental illness

i mention some laws that may not be the same in other regions but i’ll provide a link to other disability laws in regional areas.

p.s. before i begin tysm @wonkybrain-disorder for being the only vote:)

and no, im not gonna present super well-known responses., but the opposite.

1. choose your words wisely and carefully.

recently i’ve seen the “acoustic” and “restarted” joke flood across social media and if i’m being superbly honest it’s insane how neurodivergent people came up with it and the neurotypical population took it.

a lot of people in my school causally throw out the r-word, which is insane, because when i do hear it, i know they’re joking but that word isn’t a joke and i always feel like im in such proximity every time i hear it.

2. besides public education and teaching people about the meaning of mental illness, which doesn’t work, because either we don’t want to tell people about it because we’re scared of a reaction in the wrong way or any other rational fears, i’m not going to mention that.

what you should do is try and increase any form of accessibility services. if a person is in a wheelchair and paralyzed and all the building has is stairs, you are not being accommodating. the same thing has to do with if you’re an educator denying a student’s accommodations and treating them like crap in the education setting. well one, if the student has a disability under IDEA or ADA, IDEA being the individuals w disabilities education act and ADA being the americans w disabilities act.

here is the link i mentioned in the subtext under the title.

3. besides the education community, also spread awareness in the workplace!

a lot of people even with disabilities and mental health issues are presently seen in the workplace and it’s great to see the uptick in that statistic, but to continue that, we must keep pushing for equitable access to awareness in the workplace!

4. this may be a bit of a personal one for me and maybe some others- but i wish teachers wouldn’t make it instantly obvious that something is wrong with you - they’ll do anything to treat you differently and it turns a light on in the neurotypical brain that makes them think that everything they’re seeing is concrete evidence.

here’s a great video we watched in my health education class, if you’re willing to see a short video.

we watched this during our mental health unit and i loved that unit, its always a great one seeing attempts to make the world a better place!

5. also neurotypical people LOVE to say “everyone’s just a little bit + some random disorder”

it’s annoying to those who have whatever the disorder is.

like saying i’m autistic isn’t an adjective in the way that it’s a personality trait, because it’s not.

saying everyone’s a little bit autistic kills us all.

6. unsupportive parents.

there are parents out in the world who don’t believe in mental health for what it is and just think its an internet craze. if it was an internet craze, why are more and more people still getting diagnosed to this day?

[ i might add to this post later on if ideas come to mind, but that’s it for now! ]

i guess if you have more tips that i didn’t mention- feel free to comment or reblog this post!

also once again tysm @wonkybrain-disorder for suggesting this through the poll :)

[thefringespod]

We're gonna do something a little different this #AudioDramaSunday! This week was one where music was my go-to rather than podcasts so instead of episode reviews, I'm gonna do a track-by-track breakdown of all of the music released so far for The Grotto as I had it on repeat

Starting off with Hush which is the first song on the album and also the show's theme. It's got a brilliant beat to it accompanied by these bursts of vocals that crescendo into a harshness that's excellent. The HUSH gives me chill every time. I'm fully obsessed with this song

The next track is the first instrumental. Dejected feels like the music you would find in a cave. It's creeping and wet and a little haunting before the softness of the piano and the beat hit. This song has a heartbeat to it that feels tangible in the best way

Buried Alive has some of my favorite lyrics Athan has written. There's just something about the way he sings "Maybe I would be happier buried alive" that chills me to the core. Also something you'll notice is Athan likes vocal modulation a lot and it always works so well

Matt's (Usually) Confused is very aptly titled. It starts soft and slowly builds to become more all encompassing, feeling like Matt's racing thoughts as it does so

I Will Follow You Into the Dark fucks me up (positive) "Love of mine, you will die, and I'll be close behind" like Athan how am I meant to recover from that? This song as a depth to it that can be felt, like it's carving its way into a deep cave and submerging itself in the dark

I absolutely adore Emily's Theme! There's something about it that brings the word "fleeting" to mind, like Emily is running through the music and making her way out through the song itself

Which leads us to Stumble Into You and holy fuck yall Lyssa Jay has a lovely voice. Yes I'm biased because I love Lyssa but I'm also RIGHT! This song makes me a little feral, especially where Lyssa and Athan meet in the song its beautifully done

We're at the first cover on the album! This is literally the only version of Ghost of You I will listen to, Athan brings a life to this song that punches to the lyrics way more effectively than the original version does

It's Cryptic in the Grotto is another very well named song because it sure can be cryptic in this godsdamned Grotto. The whispering of it all leaves me unsettled in the best way before opening into this plucky instrumental I'm obsessed with

Looking for Answers is so Orpheus and Eurydice coded that it drives me insane. "I still feel you behind me. Your breath is slow. I'm terrified I'll end up alone." Athan you can't do this to me. There's also a lovely fast bit in this with lyrics ricocheting through the verse

Athan's cover of Hurt might actually be my favorite version of this song I'm sorry except I'm not. It suits Athan's range so well and has this almost gravely texture to it that makes me feel like I'm going feral. Everything about it is deep and dark and wonderful

Coping is NOT aptly named. You know what Matt ISNT doing? Coping. He's not coping AT ALL. It's a beautiful song and it also has some of my favorite Athan lyrics but it's from an episode called Coping and let me tell yall Matt is not making good choices in this show

If You Could See Me Now breaks my heart in the best way. The idea of trying to make someone proud while knowing that you're disappointing yourself so you're not making them proud kills me. The instrumental/electronic portions of this song are incredible

Hush (Acoustic) is wonderful and light and I cannot hear it without thinking of the episode 4 credits which make me want to shake Athan (affectionate)

There is a cover of Chasing Cars (one of my favorite songs of all time) performed by the Fringes' very own @taytayheyhey (one of my favorite people) and it became my most played song of the year *so fast* Its a wonderful and almost haunting cover of one of the songs of all time

Last song! Waiting Room also breaks my heart open in my chest because Athan did lyrics too good. "If you were a waiting room, I'd never see a doctor I'd just sit there with my first aid kit and bleed" circles through my brain at all times and I'll never forgive Athan for it

Everyone should listen to The Grotto because it kicks ass And you can check out the whole album on bandcamp https://thegrottopod.bandcamp.com/album/the-grotto-season-1-part-1. Athan said it should be on Spotify soon as well

In terms of shows I actually listened to this week, I listened to the new eps of @tellnotalespod , @woebegonepod , and @camlannpod which were all incredible as always

Here on the Fringes you can access episode 21 right now by visiting patreon.com/PineTreePods! This episode is very dear to my heart and I can't wait to share it with y'all

Thats all for this week! Please check out The Grotto if you haven't already (and not just because my friends are there it really does kick ass) Should be back in the swing of podcasts this week so expect a regular ADS post next week :)

[anthonihalibutshark3]

FARLANDER LORE?!? (Headcanon)

A Farlander is a being that originates from the ‘far lands’ of the specified planet. Places that are dedicated ‘far lands’ are either places in extremely high or extremely low altitude, like mountains or very deep caves/underwater trenches.

Mountain Farlanders are categorized by:

•Being able to sort of float.

•Being very in-tune with magical changes in environments and peoples.

•Their bodies appearing to split apart at random, with parts of flesh floating away or orbiting near the person.

•Needing to be attached to some kind of magically-imbued item for survival outside of the Farlands.

•Usually being entirely carnivores.

•Glowing eyes of cool-toned colors, usually a form of white.

•Very large lung capacity.

Cave Farlanders are categorized by:

•Smaller bodies, usually not growing more than 5”5.

•Elongated, skinny arms.

•Bodies seeming far more dense than usual human skin.

•Large ears.

•Being entirely carnivorous. Physically cannot digest plant fiber.

•Being very in-tune with the magic of their surroundings.

•Lack of eyes entirely.

Trench Farlanders are categorized by:

•Literally being unable to leave their home sea depth.

•Very large eyes for better eyesight under water.

•Lack of outer ear. Just has the holes.

•Lack of nose. Replaced by gills in various areas.

•Body being very stiff, almost exoskeleton-like.

•STUPIDLY magically in-tune with their surroundings. Can detect changes for miles.

•Responsible for magical ‘flare’s that don’t do anything except temporarily amplify the abilities of those at the surface water.

•Various shapes & sizes, body types, colors. Usually darker in skintone.

•Eyes can glow at will. Usually some sort of white or warm-toned color.

•Passive chemosynthesis.

The different cultures of Farlanders don’t mix often (if at all) due to dramatic differences in living spaces, but politically, they really don’t give a shit about each other.

Mountain Farlanders’ culture is categorized by:

•Thick, warm clothing with wildly different colors.

•Loud percussion music.

•Salty food, seasoned by what came from the animal killed.

•Grand performances of theater depicting historical events.

•Sacred appreciation for animal life.

•Long hairstyles.

•Beautiful jewelry made of various materials. Mostly gold & lapis.

•Honesty-first mentality. Very taboo to lie about anything above a white lie.

•Communal raising. Children are often taken care of by many people at once.

•Strong sibling ties. The bond between siblings is the strongest.

•An importance on acrobatics.

•An importance on written record.

•Polygamy. Two or more partners is common. Rare to see a monogamous couple.

•Matriarchal society.

•Communal economy. Makes it difficult to assimilate into human cultures.

Cave Farlanders’ culture is categorized by:

•Electricity being important. Very industrial society.

•Clothes made of fish membrane, if any clothes at all.

•Texture-based writing, akin to braille.

•Wide-spanning art pieces consisting of various textures to feel.

•Music focusing on carved wind instruments, acoustics, and vocals.

•Vast variety of food with a wide taste spectrum. Foods often have contrasting textures and tastes to make the dishes feel alive.

•Anything that can be killed can be cooked. Or eaten raw, depending on the person.

•Honorable cannibalism, see above point.

•Glorious stories of great poetry with emphasis on imagery.

•Reading material or spoken poetry being speculative, focusing on the future.

•Mostly monogamous with single children.

•Elaborate underground cities that have buildings ‘built’ (carved) close together.

•Skin-to-skin contact is done almost constantly. Diverse secondary communication through touch.

•Neither patriarchal or matriarchal in family households. Lack of any comparison between the sexes, aside from innate biological difference.

•Most cities are direct-democracies.

•Largest sex-chromosome variance in hominids due to insanely high quality healthcare.

•Economy is capitalistic with some regulation.

Trench Farlanders’ culture is categorized by:

•Clothing made from various animal life, ornate jewelry made of the shells of creatures at the sea floor.

•Music is performed using string instruments and percussion, with an extreme emphasis on percussive vocals (clicks, trills, etc).

•Detailed tattoos that cover the entire body.

•Carvings into surrounding stone that are usually supposed to detail a story. VERY rarely will you see art pieces that are simple.

•Vocal speech being incredibly vast, mostly consisting of clicks, whistles, etc.

•Respectful religious activities surrounding whale falls & wood falls.

•’Exposed’ burials. Body is left out outside of cities to decay to give back to the planet.

•Actually, these guys are pretty religious. Hands are pressed to the temple of the head when ‘praying’. Not really praying, per se, more like releasing thoughts and feelings into the planet.

•Hunting parties used to be in great demand, with the head of a family (polygamous in nature) usually the one organizing it. Society was formerly dominated by people collecting what they needed & being nomadic, but recently, people have started to settle into city/village life with jobs dedicated to hunting & selling food.

•Economy is capitalism with socialist values.

•Representative democracy is popular in these cities. Cities consist of several hundred villages, akin to what we’d consider countries.

•Overpopulation is a serious, sensitive issue. It’s considered taboo to discuss it.

•Caring for a child is considered the most selfless task, with families usually keeping to themselves rather than requesting communal effort.

•Not having a child is not looked down upon in more modern villages/cities. By not having a child, you are seen as respecting the needs of children by not taking more food/clothing/etc.

•In more traditional areas, not having a child is seen as being unable to give back to the community you grew up in. This idea is very quickly being challenged by recent issues of overpopulation and discussions of bodily autonomy.

•Education is of the utmost importance. Higher education (college) is required for mandatory schooling. Most exit school and enter the workforce at the human-equivalent of 30 years old.

•Religious wear is seen frequently in tattoos that depict your faith or your personal story. This is the same for art.

•While carving is a popular form of self expression, dancing is also very common. It’s combined with the voluntary glowing of Trench Farlander’s eyes to create stunning visuals.

[k8epot8e]

Train in Vain: Chapter 3 Have a Sunny Day!

Summary:

You, Kid, and Kil arrive at Luffy's party.

Notes:

Sorry for another shorter chapter this week! I went to a wedding and it threw me off my school and work schedules. I promise next week's will be longer and have more dialogue. It was fun to think about how I thought the Sunny rowhouse would look. Also, I promise I didn't forget Franky or Chopper they're coming. As always, much love and thanks for reading <3

[I'm attempting to get better at how I cross post these on tumblr. I feel so old but I am learning. I will put the link to the chapter on ao3 at the end. I'm sorry I forgot TWs last time but nothing really happened last chapter anyway lol. ]

TWs: Cursing. Drinking and mentions of alcohol.

Kil’s fist hesitated just in front of the door.

The three of you had gotten there in no time. The apartment you’d been looking for turned out to be a three-story brick rowhouse tucked away on a side street. It had a small front porch with a staircase underneath, presumably leading down to a basement apartment. The stairs were lined with potted plants of various sizes and on the porch was a mat, adorned with the face of a smiling cartoon lion surrounded by sunflowers. “Have a sunny day!” was written in cursive at the bottom. You heard an unapproving tsk from Kid which made you giggle.

“I think this is an outside door” Kil stated. He uncurled his fist and reached for the doorknob, opening it inwards. He was right, as you assumed he often was. Behind the door was a hallway with another door on the right and a stairway leading upwards on the left. The minute you all squeezed through the outer door and into the hallway, you knew the party was in the apartment on this floor. You heard someone playing an acoustic guitar and other voices yelling over one another on the other side of the wall. This door was festooned with paper streamers twisted into jaunty spirals.

The three of you resumed your earlier door-knocking configuration with Kil in front and Kid to your left. The blonde man reached out his large fist and rapped it against the wood three times. The din from the other side of the wall continued but you heard a woman shout, “Luffy! Get the door!” Kid growled lightly and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

A moment later, the door swung violently open. The party streamers fluttered through the air and you jumped at the sudden motion. A short man that you assumed was Luffy appeared in the doorway.

He was probably around 5’9 so both Kil and Kid towered over him. Despite his short stature, he had the presence of someone much larger. A warmth radiated off him, drawing you towards him; an emotional tug that you could feel in your chest. He was handsome in an almost adorable way. His black hair fell in loose curls down over his forehead. He had a long scar under his left eye from an injury probably decades old. His skin was a beautifully warm shade of brown that matched his light brown eyes flecked with gold. His gaze was genuine in an intense way that made you feel exposed. His body was muscular but lean, like the build of a swimmer or gymnast. Around his neck was a thin leather strap from which an old straw hat dangled, resting on his back down between his shoulder blades. He wore a red Hawaiian shirt that he didn’t bother buttoning at all, ripped jean shorts, and flip-flops. An insane outfit for New York, you thought to yourself, quickly getting distracted by his washboard abs. Your face flushed and you hastily averted your gaze.

“Jeez, pull it together ol’ girl,” you thought to yourself.

Luffy thrust his arms in the air and beamed.

“JAGGY AND JAGGY’S FRIEND! YOU’RE HERE!”

He lept out and embraced Kil, wrapping both of his long arms around the blonde’s muscular chest. Kil recoiled slightly but settled into the hug, placing his right hand tentatively on the short man’s back.

“For fuck’s sake” Kid scoffed.

You thought Kid’s verbal hostility would ruffle Luffy, but he seemed completely unfazed.

“I don’t know you,” Luffy released Kil as his eyes met yours. You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks as you became the subject of his intense stare.

“Luffy, this is (Y/N). She’s a new friend of ours.” Kil explained, motioning to you with his right hand.

“Hey. Nice to meet you,” you said sheepishly meeting Luffy’s gaze and offering a small wave of your right hand.

“Nice to meet ya!”

The toothy smile he gave you in return was so bright it made you squint. You felt your heart flutter in your chest; you were completely overcome by his charisma.

“Hey, Jaggy!” Luffy slapped Kid on the arm with his long hand.

“Yeah. Hey.” Kid grumbled and looked away.

You furrowed your brow at the redhead. What was his problem?

“Come on in!” Luffy beckoned to the three of you and led you into the apartment.

The apartment’s common space was one long room divided into different sections by furniture. On the opposite wall to where you entered was a large, brick fireplace. The mantel was decorated with more party streamers along with candles, plants, and photographs. In front of the fireplace was a long wooden coffee table, seemingly the nexus of the gathering as most people were sitting on couches or chairs pulled up around it. To the right was a large bay window with built-in bookshelves on either side and a bench lined with throw pillows that faced the coffee table. Facing the bench was a large couch with an aggressively 1970s sepia-toned floral pattern. It had definitely seen better days, but its injuries had been patched up tenderly in places.

To your left was a media table with video game consoles and a TV. The far left side of the room was a dining area with a long, scuffed wooden table that was currently covered in reusable plastic cups and an unfinished game of Settlers of Catan. Behind it was what seemed to be an impeccably stocked bar cart. There were doorways on this side of the room, one leading to a linoleum-tiled kitchen, one to a bathroom, and one to a hallway that extended down to the left.

When Luffy said “party” on the phone, you had assumed it was going to be a body-to-body type of affair like the apartment parties you sometimes attended reluctantly with friends. This was the opposite of that. There were eight people not including you, Kid and Kil.

On the bench sat a 20-something busty redhead whose cheeks were already flushed from alcohol. She was arguing with the intimidatingly handsome, presumably similarly aged, green-haired Asian man to her right who was actively pouring both of them more sake despite neither of their glasses being close to empty.

Sitting in a dining chair pulled in front of the fireplace and as close to the redheaded girl as physically possible was a lanky man with blonde hair that hung loosely over his face. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking what appeared to be a dirty martini. He was smiling lovingly at the redhead, but she wasn’t paying him any mind.

On the floral couch sat a beautiful older woman with long dark hair and bronze skin, probably in her late 30s, holding a book in her lap. The book looked like it had been sitting open for a while and she was talking happily with the man to her left, a handsome, 20-something Black man with long curly hair he kept styled in a low ponytail. He was enthusiastically telling her about something, his excited hand motions emphasizing what he was explaining. On the man’s left side sat a large-framed older Asian man who was looking between the two conversations and smiling contentedly. Lastly, another older man sat behind the floral couch in a dining chair he had scooted closer to the group. He was a very tall, skinny Black man who was playing the acoustic guitar and lightly singing a happy little tune.

It was loud and somewhat chaotic for a small gathering, but the scene made you smile. Luffy paused once the three of you had shuffled in the door.

“Hey guys! Look who made it!” Luffy laughed as he addressed the apartment of people. The acoustic guitar and conversations briefly paused as all eyes turned towards you.

“Wow, Eustass. Never thought you’d actually take him up on it.” The redheaded girl teased, a sly grin spreading across her flushed face.

“If you wanted to see me that bad, babe, all you had to do was ask.” Kid cocked his brow at her suggestively. She rolled her eyes.

“Kid, I swear to god I will kick your ass” The blonde man stood up and pointed his cigarette at Kid in challenge.

Before you or Kil could say anything Luffy let out a loud belly laugh

“Come on guys! It’s a party! Let’s just have a good time!” He slapped Kid on the back playfully. Kid’s entire face got red and he stormed off to the bar cart at the end of the room. The man started playing the guitar again and everyone resumed their earlier conversations.

Luffy flopped down happily on the bench next to the green-haired man. You and Kil migrated to the bar cart where Kid had just poured himself a shot of whiskey. He threw it back and exhaled, slamming the “What Happens in Sabaody Archipelago, Stays in Sabaody Archipelago!” shot glass back onto the cart.

“Can we just ask him for a ride and get the fuck out of here?” Kid huffed at Kil. The sticky sweet scent of whiskey wafting from his large mouth.

“I don’t know if they’ll just up and take us without some convincing. Let’s all get a drink and see if we can talk one of them into it.” Kil said calmly.

“He’s probably right. It would be rude to just demand something from them the minute we got in the door.” You added.

Kid rolled his eyes.

“1. I don’t care about manners, 2. Kil, you just want a drink, 3. (Y/N), you only want to stay ‘cause you’ve got a hard-on for that lunatic.” Kid jabbed.

“What? I do not!” You huffed. “Also, if anyone is a lunatic it’s you, Kid. He seems perfectly nice.”

Kid opened his mouth to argue back at you but Kil placed his hand on Kid’s chest, stopping him.

“Let’s focus on the task at hand, shall we?” Kil said dryly. “Even if I do just want a drink, we’ll be outta here faster if we do some schmoozing.”

Kil turned to you.

“So, what do you want?” He asked cocking his head at you, a smile peeking out from behind his surgical mask.

“Hmph. Probably a Shirley Temple.” Kid laughed.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” You said to Kil. His blond eyebrows shot up in amused questioning.

“Don’t let Kid bully you into anything. I usually drink whiskey neat, and not the good shit either.” Kil laughed.

“That’s just fine.” You smiled back at him, meeting his gaze. He was a hard man to read anyway, as composed as he was, so trying to interpret him with limited facial cues made everything more difficult. You thought you sensed a hint of flirtation in his tone, but you couldn’t be sure. And even so, god knows you didn’t have enough evidence to do anything about it.

“Make it three.” Kid grunted. He grabbed a dining chair and dragged it closer, but not too close, to the circle of friends.

[drdt-headcanons]

I wanna do one HC per character :)

Teruko Tawaki ~ She’s gotten into the craziest trouble before. Like she’s probably been framed for a crime and then let out at like the last second, or joined a gang by accident and then ran away.

Xander Matthews ~ He is a huge history buff and although he doesn’t agree with most things in history, he uses successful tactics other historical advocates used for his own protests and rebellions.

Charles Cuevas ~ his parents were highly against him doing chemistry, and had no idea he was even pursuing it until he won an award in highschool for it. They knew he took chemistry class and aced it, but they didn’t know the hours he spend after school were not actually gardening, but it was him studying and doing high level chemistry experiments.

Ace Markey ~ he tried to be a basic white boy back in middle school to become more popular, but he missed the memo and accidentally ended up dressing like a basic white girl instead 😭

Arei Nageishi ~ she’s definitely a hello kitty girl, but the stereotypical bitchy one

Rose Lacroix ~ she’s drank the paint water so many times by mistake she can’t even differentiate the taste between real water and paint water anymore

Hu Jing ~ Hu can also play a lot of other instruments! Although she prefers and likes the Zither out of all of them, she plays piano, acoustic guitar and cello if her high school needed that instrument for smth or someone around town did.

Eden Tobisa ~ Eden was that one super goody two-shoes back in highschool. She always did volunteer work, had pretty good grades, was the founder or in many activist clubs.

Levi Fontana ~ definitely dresses in women’s clothes. He believes clothes aren’t gendered, but he doesn’t go out wearing “women’s clothes” bc he’s worried that his reputation would be slandered.

Arturo Giles ~ he used to own all the ‘girly toys’ like LEGO Friends, and instead of building the kit, he made all the characters have the most insane, toe-curling, suspenseful drama with each other and he would narrate it and do all the voices.

Min Jeung ~ Min gives the meanest death stare. She would get teased in school for having no social life, but once she stared you down, you’d never make fun of her again.

David Chiem ~ He sets his alarm for an hour earlier than he actually has to get up, because it takes him an hour to get up and motivated and out of bed.

Veronika Grebenishchikova ~ She does insane things to impress people she has a crush on. Once, she made a heart that looked and felt exactly like a human heart and gifted it to the person she liked. After that, her reputation was basically ruined.

J Rosales ~ J definitely had a middle school emo phase. Once she disappeared from the media, she cut her hair, dyed it black and started listening to MCR and acted like her life sucked. The rebellion is still in her, but she’s matured and just prefers boyish clothes and dad-rock more than anything.

Whit Young ~ the biggest pop fan to exist. He knows every popular song, artist, but the catch is he only knows them if it’s a female singing. He couldn’t give a crap about male singers.

Nico Hakobyan ~ only likes cartoon shows that star animals, like Bluey. They also like books that star animals, but they prefer to see the animals animated on screen.

//I didn’t mean for this to get so long but ty and I hope you enjoyed the HCs!!!

:)

[thekidsfromyestergay]

Toxic positivity first thoughts:

Worst I've ever been: MY TITS ARE GONE HOLY FUCK THIS GOES SO FUCKING HARD THEY'RE ON TOP FUCKING FORM

Numb: she's still my baby <3

I hate everybody: might be a controversial one if you didn't like heartwork but I LOVED heartwork so I think the synth goes crazy. But I'm a whore for synth bass and a good groove so maybe I'm biased

Pinky swear: OH FUCK YES. They're on peak banger form this album. It's like a classic 00s upbeat pop punk song but with slipknot riffs thrown in for good measure

Headspace: ANOTHER BANGER OPEN HELLO! Hiiiiiiii jeph HIII he's going crazy today and I appreciate him. Otherwise a little generic for me but. Man does the bass save it he's going so hard. Feels a little like a heavier version of one of the heartwork b-sides. I'm counting the unhinged little giggle as a prison reference

Cherry: oh a little acoustic open... Hoping for a "to feel something" type build. The little pizzicato part is really getting me. HI AGAIN JEPH!!! AND THATS THE BUILD I WAS WAITING FOR HELLO!!!!!!!!!! A LITTLE DNB BREAK?????? OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HOLY FUCK. HOLY SHIT. OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO UNEXPECTED. OH FUCK THATS SO MUCH BETTER THAN I WAS ANTICIPATING. HOLY FUCK

Dopamine: What the fuck is this Tom Waits shit I'm in love!!!!! Once again jeph is carrying everyone here. I literally cannot describe how this feels it's just. So fucking good. There has yet to be a song that doesn't go insanely hard. I'm on another planet rn

Dancing with a brick wall: ANOTHER ONE!!! Man I love how much they're using strings they just work so incredibly well with them. I LOVE A FUCKING OFFBEAT DANCE BEAT!!! Yet again I have to say jeph is going hard. Top 10 builds to open a pit to

Top of the world: HOW DO THEY KEEP DOING THIS!!!!!!! Just as I love how much they use strings I love the synth too!!!!!!!!!!!! This whole album feels so fresh and new but still so distinctly them. AND OF COURSE THEYRE RESCUING A KIND OF SAMEY SONG WITH A KILLER BREAKDOWN! THEY NEVER FUCKING MISS!

House of sand: oh not a killer intro? Very mid 00s pop rock but I can live with that! A needed break from going insane.

Giving up: I'm sorry but why was this a single! Hearing the whole album there are so many songs that go SO much harder I'm SORRY!!! But this album definitely needed a nice kind of optimistic song and this does exactly what it needs to. This time I'm gonna talk about DAN going crazy because I love a good dnb type beat. A good ender!

Overall... Holy shit that goes crazy. Like I cannot express how blown away I am. They have never gone so hard. I am absolutely praying they break away from the setlist they've been playing for like the past 10 years and play most of the album live because WOW.

[itrustmydiscoverweekly]

(Last) week I listened to empathogen by WILLOW

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️(4 out of 5 stars)

This album is beautiful and an INSANE change of pace from WILLOW, It is absolutely not what I was expecting but it's gorgeous nonetheless. I've been sort of a passive fan of hers throughout the years and now I definitely want to listen to more of her stuff and I want more jazz out of her.

I can't say I'm a massive fan of jazz but I definitely appreciate it a lot; I just haven't ever really gotten into it at this point in my life. I know enough to feel I can have an opinion here but I can't act like I'm some big jazz snob. I LOVE what's happening in the contemporary scene though.

Enough yapping, let's get to the opinions! (as always, not opinion order, just album order)

"symptom of life" Wow, and now I realize I won't be able to talk about everything in this album in as much detail as I would like... This song is stunning. It is amazing. Let's start with the drums. They are SO COOL and add the perfect layer and pull all of the rhythms in the vocals and the piano together. The piano intro is gorgeous and gets stuck in my head. I LOVE how she uses rhythms in the lyricism, particularly in the chorus. Her vocals are also GORGEOUS and are so different than her work in the alt space but still so amazingly trained and WOW. just wow. This song builds in such a cool way and I adore the blunt ending.

"pain of fun (feat. St. Vincent)" again, gorgeous. I love the guitar at the start, the classic jazz vocals, and how the cello joins in alongside the vocals beautifully. The drums come in with more strings beautifully. The end of the chorus is really cool how it peels back to the very simple pieces. I like how this song builds in the 3rd verse to her singing from previous albums and goes back to the jazz style singing. The switching between the both is beautiful and makes this song stand out so much more to me.

"between i and she" brings up the tempo of this album. It is cool and WILLOW perfectly blends her upbeat alt styles of the past with her new jazz styles. It is gorgeous and I love it. The drums are addictive and the guitar works perfectly. Again I am going to talk about the rhythms in the vocals, I just love how jazz uses rhythms, it's really cool and unique to me (since I have more of a classical background). I just thing this song is really neat and showcases all of her talents.

Honorable mentions!! 🥳🥳🥳

"ancient girl" has such cool vocals and I love it so much, I wish the song was longer and had more to offer. It's pretty and I like the more acoustic sound with just her voice and the guitar.

"run!" This song just reminds me of her older stuff a lot and I love her singing style. the bass is cool and I love the way the verse comes in breathy and builds. I love how this song is mixed too, it sounds 3d and really really cool. the outro is so cool how the word run becomes the rhythm and becomes percussive.

[graciehart]

frozen OBCR, parade (whatever cast you like, i think there are 3?), side show added attractions album! for the top 5 songs thing 🩵

hehe sorry for the late response, i went back to listen so i got very distracted by them lmaoo (also now you must share yours. it's the rules)

Frozen OBCR tbh this one is harder because I tend to like things the way I first learn them (e.g. ftftif changes lyrics, but not by adding lines—it changes existing ones) so I don't tend to listen to the whole show. basically don't judge too hard LOL

Monster

A Little Bit of You (this song these lyrics I— 😭)

Dangerous to Dream (I already have an insane attachment to Elsa — i mean, the proof of it is all over this blog lmao — and then they just really leaned into it for this show 😭😭😭😭)

Do You Want to Build a Snowman? (the added lyrics are just... omg why did they do this to me honestly)

True Love

also honorable mention to the finale, they truly do such a good job of taking the songs and expanding on them in this show fkdaj;l

Parade (2023) This is entirely for Micaela Diamond fkdja;fj

You Don't Know this Man

All the Wasted Time

My Child Will Forgive Me

Finale

Funeral Sequence

Side Show: Added Attractions

Everyone Else (Role Reversal Version)

Who Will Love Me As I Am? (Ensemble Version)

I Will Never Leave You (Acoustic Version)

It's All in the Mind (Acoustic Version)

Good We Found You (Extended Version)

send me an albums or artists and I’ll tell you my top 5 songs! 💙

[suomeen]

Chapter 5: Finnishing the Year

As the year was coming to an end, we finally moved into our new apartment in a 5-story municipal building. The house is rather simple, though it has all one might need, with a storage space outside and a laundry room in the basement. There are Finns living there but a lot of the apartments are owned by the city to house refugees or immigrants so there are a lot of Ukrainians, as well as people from Arabic countries and South East Asia.

The apartment is spacious, has 2 bedrooms and a larger living room. When we first arrived, there was basically nothing in it. Just beds and closets and a starter kit of cheap cutlery, plastic plate and glass, and a few pans. A bit later we also got a few chairs and bedside tables, as well as a kitchen table. The beds are very uncomfortable but it’s better than sleeping in the corridor and waking up from explosions. It was almost strange to feel so safe.

Sharing a tiny room with your mother in your 30s is not exactly ideal. Having my own room is probably what I miss the most. In a situation like that, you soon realize that privacy is a luxury. The inherent lack of privacy was exacerbated by the fact that without much furniture, carpets or curtains, the acoustics were way too good. You couldn’t make a sound without the whole apartment knowing. The bathroom is a fucking echo chamber. To make a private call, people go outside. You can always see someone hanging out in the yard with their phones. And its not great when it’s cold as fuck outside.

The city itself has a population of just 60k. But then Finland is not a big country with only 5 million people overall. So, a city of over 50k is sizeable. It’s not exactly small in terms of area either, as most of the houses have just 1 floor and the buildings are rather sparse. It looks like a forest anywhere you go. The problem is our block is quite far from the city center so to get literally anywhere you need to walk at least 40 minutes. You can take the bus but it costs 3e and doesn’t go everywhere and only at certain hours. No buses after 6 pm and on Sundays. The city is designed for cars. Or, at the very least, bikes. If you walk to a shop through an industrial zone, you’re probably not gonna meet a single person for miles. At least our house has a big supermarket right next to it.

When we arrived to settle in, there was already another dweller. A young woman named Lina who took the other bedroom. She was a German teacher, polite but sociable. We hit it off surprisingly well.  Our first order of business was to try and make this place feel at least a little bit like home the best we could and navigate this wondrous new territory.

The NY eve was wild. Sure, we used to have fireworks in Kyiv, but they went off at midnight and only lasted for about 5 minutes. We don’t have them since the war started. Fireworks sound just like explosions, you know.  Here, the fireworks began at 6 PM and went on till after midnight. There were hundreds of them going off all around us. they never stopped. It was insane. As the day wrapped up, the 3 of us sat down in the kitchen. We didn’t even have proper drinks because we learned too late that you can’t just buy alcohol in Finland. The supermarkets don’t sell anything over 5%. For that you have to go to one of the Alko shops and there are just 4 of them in town. Besides, the alcohol is also very expensive. We drank a few cans of cheap beer and called it a night.

[sparrow-orion-writes]

Happy WBW! What are the coffee shops like in your world? Or what are the coffee shop equivalents? Are they bustling? Overpriced? Are they decrept or college-kid only territory? If you wanna get into it, feel free to add on your characters' interactions, feelings, or orders!

Hi Tori! Sorry I'm late, it's my day off now!

So it depends on the area really, here's some quick descriptions of the places in the Arcadian Wilds series:

>Obsolete

Navigating the tunnels of the underground was a tedious thing, even after many times amongst them. By now, he's sure, he should know where everything is, but the place is a maze with little discernable ends. Eventually, he turns to the battered metal sign of Mo's Coffee shop, slipping inside with his exhaustion heavy on his face. "Arizona!" the man behind the counter extends his arms with a jovial expression. Ari gives him a tired half-smile. "How is the work?" The inside of the coffeeshop always smells faintly of damp, overpowered by the scent of hot coffee and the plants forced under fake suns to grow. Then, there's that calming scent of something earthy and herbal, which he relaxes under as he takes his usual seat at the counter. Almost immediately, he's handed a rolled cigarette, before he's even managed to reach for his wallet. "Tiring." The whir of the machine grinds the silence into something full as he places his wallet on the counter and slips his lighter into his palm. There's some relief in the quiet of the coffeeshop, quiet as is most of Obsolete, but quieter still here. In the corners of the room there are small clusters of people, often silent, reading and smoking, taking their time with life. "Hard work always is." The black coffee is placed in front of him with a discerning clink, and Ari hands over more money than is required. "You keep me in buisiness," Mo jokes, lightly. "You know who to ask if you need it," Ari replies, with a rare smile.

>Poison

Ember stares up at the ceiling in wonder. "We're in a tree," he utters. April looks at him, amused. "Yeah, well, not at first, it just sort of grew around it...I guess." The trees arms held onto the wooden box with the same clinging ferocity that, in April's opinion, should be reciprocated. The sign outside aptly named the placed "The Treehouse" and the smell of herbs and teas traversed out onto the short veranda long before they'd stepped inside. It was a small, quiet place, with the distant chatter of overlapping conversations. "This is insane," Ember muttered "...why would you build a coffee shop in the fucking sky?" April only laughed in response, shaking his head, as he made his way to the counter to order some tobacco and his usual overly-milky coffee.

>Sight

It was a polite little place. The inside warm and homely. He noticed the way Edward almost relaxed into the atmosphere, his mouth half-ajar as he took in the place. Clean, quaint, the small walls filled with people sat at small metal tables, drinking from polished cups. The smell of coffee was overpowering, and through a tinny speaker, gentle acoustic music played. "I prefer the ones in Obsolete," Ari admits quietly "...less busy." But Edward doesn't respond, still astounded by the wealth of the people here.

>Cyber

The sensory hell struck Ana before anything else, bringing her fingers to rub her temples before approaching the bar. The walls were lined with bottles of alcohol, with a shelf dedicated only to different flavours of tea. "Just a coffee please," she exhales, trying to block out the noises of people hooked upto VR and shouting endlessly at something she couldn't see. "You look like you need something stronger," the woman behind the bar offers her a grin and nods towards the whisky. "I'm okay, thanks," Ana gave her a polite smile, looking around the room for some semblance of familiarity. Through the dim lights and illumninated screens and tables, she saw Ari leaning just as uncomfortably against the far wall. He'd gone straight for the rum, she could see. She sighs. "I'll take another one for him though."