#this is hands down my fave line of theirs

[sophsun1]

Psych − 4.02: He Dead

[captainsophiestark]

Not A Relationship Guy

Tristan Flynn x Reader

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Requeted by Anon! This is the Tristan Flynn part of "Az or Flynn" lol. Thanks again for enabling me to write about my faves! Hope you like it! Also, Happy Valentine's Day everybody!

Fandom: Crescent City

Summary: Bryce's good friend from Nidaros has moved to Crescent City with her, and quickly made an impression on a certain fae lord. But she's not interested in a one-night stand, and Flynn has made it clear before that he's not really a relationship guy.

Word Count: 5,252

Category: Angst, Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

When I'd first come to Crescent City, I hadn't known anyone other than Bryce. We'd grown up together in Nidaros, and now as adults, we'd maintained our close friendship even after she moved away. About a month ago, I'd joined her, following her move to the big city. I'd been terrified and out of my depth, with Bryce as my only connection in the massive metropolis. Now, I stood shoulder to shoulder with the top ranking members of the Fae Aux, screaming as we spectated the end of a beer pong game in the middle of a massive house party.

Things had certainly changed.

Declan and his boyfriend Marc stood on one side of the table, competing against a few people I didn't know. I was still relatively new, although my circle had expanded thanks to Bryce. Dec and Marc only had one cup left on their opponent's side, and then the game would be theirs.

The whole room screamed, a mix of heckling and encouragement, as Dec lined up his shot. Bryce hung off my neck, stone cold sober but shouting like the drunkest one in the crowd, which made me smile. Finally, after an extra moment's pause, Dec let the ball fly.

A moment later, it splashed into the cup, making Marc and Dec the winners.

The room erupted into cheers, no matter if people were rooting for or against Dec. A shot like that had to be appreciated.

The other team got a chance at redemption, but couldn't manage to get all of Marc and Dec's cups without missing. The game officially ended, with Marc and Dec's ten game win streak remaining unbroken.

"Boo!" came a loud voice, stepping through the crowd to the side of the table the losers had just vacated. Tristan Flynn stood tall, heckling his best friend across the table. "Somebody needs to take you two down!"

"Somebody just tried, Flynn!" Dec called back. "And you tried a few rounds ago, too. We're untouchable."

He and Marc did a little celebration, and Flynn rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that was with Ruhn as my partner. I just need a better partner, and then you two are done." His eyes turned to scan the crowd, landing immediately on Brcye.

"Quinlan-"

"Nope. No interest in being your teammate, Flynn."

He put a hand to his chest, mock hurt. "You wound me, Quinlan."

Bryce rolled her eyes. "You'll live. Besides, you're in luck. I happen to have the perfect partner for you."

Flynn raised an eyebrow in question at the same time Bryce gave me a hard shove forward. I turned to glare at her, but she just grinned back and gave me a little 'shoo' gesture. I narrowed my eyes at her even further, but turned back to Flynn anyway.

He watched me with a skeptical gaze. We'd gotten to know each other a little since I'd come to Lunathion, and we generally got along. That didn't make him trust me as a beer pong partner, though.

"Are you any good at pong, sweetheart?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I guess you're gonna find out."

With that, I turned from Flynn to quickly rerack the cups before picking up one of the balls on the table. I turned to Dec and Marc, waiting for one of them to do the same so we could shoot for who went first. They shared a look, then Dec stepped up, grinning at me as he prepared. I could feel Flynn hovering over my shoulder, but I ignored him as Dec and I locked eyes.

"Eye... to... eye," we said in sync, not looking away from each others' eyes as we let our first shots fly. I sank mine, but unfortunately, so did Dec.

I turned to Flynn. He didn't look impressed, exactly, but the wary skepticism had been replaced by a small, crooked smile.

"You're up," I said simply. Flynn didn't hesitate before stepping up to the table and going through the same procedure Dec and I had just done, but with Marc shooting opposite him. Like me, Flynn splashed his into a cup, but Marc's shot narrowly missed and bounced off into the crowd.

I let up a whooping cheer and high-fived Flynn, who was full-on grinning now. Marc and Dec just shook their heads.

"That means nothing," Dec called across the table. "You're both still toast."

"Yeah yeah, talk is cheap," I shot back. "Toss the other ball over here and let's get this upset on the road."

The game was truly a battle for the ages. The majority of the crowd had quickly rallied behind Flynn and I, since Dec and Marc had been dominating for far too long. They continued to sink shot after shot, but so did we. We held our own, using trash talk and head games and anything else we could think of to our advantage as the game went on.

I wasn't normally a super quiet person or anything, but since I'd been new to town and not in any party scenarios with Bryce's friends before this, I hadn't been ridiculously loud either. Now, however, I screamed, cheered, and jeered at the top of my lungs. With every celebration of success and mocking of the other team's misfortune, I caught Flynn staring at me more and more, an appraising look in his eye. I mostly ignored him, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a warm feeling in my chest when he grinned at me.

We both stayed focused and at the top of our games until, finally, each team only had one cup left. Marc and Dec had briefly pulled ahead, but Flynn had knocked out one of their cups to tie it. Now, the game rested on me.

"C'mon, you can do this!" shouted Flynn, putting his hands on my shoulders and jumping around a little to hype me up. I nodded, then turned to line up my shot as Flynn stepped back.

Marc and Dec were screaming, waving their hands everywhere to try and throw me off. The crowd screamed and the music blared, but I blocked it all out. I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, my eyes laser-focused on the cup ahead.

Without giving myself time to second guess, I brought my arm forward and let the ball fly. A second later, it landed with a splash in the final cup of Marc and Dec.

"YES!" roared Flynn, and a moment later my feet had left the ground. He'd wrapped his arms around my waist and picked me up in celebration. I laughed, absolutely beaming as Flynn set me down again.

"Alright, alright, it's not over yet!" Marc reminded us, bringing us out of the moment. "We get redemption shots."

"Even if you drag us into overtime, we're untouchable now," Flynn called. Our opponents ignored him, even as I joined Flynn's heckling and the two of us did everything we could think of to distract or psych out our opponents.

Marc shot first, and he missed. Me, Flynn, and apparently everyone else in the room held our breaths as Dec shook out his arm, then lined up his shot. Flynn and I waved our hands around, jumped up and down, and shouted things we thought might distract Dec, moving perfectly in sync like we'd been a team our whole life. Finally, Dec let the ball fly.

Flynn and I ripped our hands back to avoid any accidental interference that would cost us the game, and a split second later, Dec's ball bounced off the rim of our last cup. I reacted like lightning. According to the rules, once it hit the cup, it was fair game. I smacked it out of the way, off the table and into the crowd, before it could fall one way or the other.

"NO!" wailed Dec, sinking to his knees dramatically across the table.

"YES!" Flynn and I screamed in sync, and he picked me up again and spun me around. He put me down a moment later, still beaming, hands still around my waist. Our eyes locked, both caught up in the moment of euphoria, and he leaned towards me just a bit. I smiled, squeezing his arm but turning away to where Marc and Dec were still going through the stages of grief across the table.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss Flynn. But I also knew he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. The three different females I'd seen him make out with throughout the party tonight were testament to that. I didn't want to just kiss him and then try to pretend to go back to normal as friends the next day, so instead, I focused on the euphoria of our win.

Flynn let the moment pass, too, as we gloated over Marc and Dec's defeat. Finally, after significant whining and complaining, they wandered off and another pair stepped up to challenge me and Flynn. We ran the table for the better part of an hour before stepping away to do other things, our win streak still intact.

I stayed at the party with Bryce for a little while longer, dancing and laughing the night away. Flynn joined us for basically all of it, making a point of paying attention to me, talking and laughing with me. He toed the line of flirting more often than not, and never wandered to other parts of the party even though Bryce spent significant time roasting him every chance she got. When she and I finally left the party just after two in the morning, we only got a few steps from the frat house before she turned to me.

"Alright, spill. What's going on with you and Flynn?"

I laughed, gently bumping my shoulder into hers as we walked. "Nothing's going on, Bryce. He's a friend, that's it."

"I've seen how he acts around his friends, and that's not it. I know you're new, but you must've noticed the difference too."

I sighed. "Yeah, I have. And I won't lie, Bryce, he's great. He's funny, I like talking to him and spending time with him. Obviously he's gorgeous. But based on everything I've seen from him, he's not interested in an actual relationship with somebody. Likewise, I'm not interested in making out with somebody at a party and having that be the end of it. So I think it's best if we just stay friends."

Bryce nodded thoughtfully, letting a comfortable silence rest over us for a few blocks as we walked side by side. I thought that was the end of it, but then she chimed in again.

"I've never seen him keep flirting with somebody as long as he did with you tonight. Normally if he hasn't gotten what he wanted in about twenty minutes, he moves on."

I didn't respond. I mean, what was I supposed to say? I wasn't sure Bryce really knew what she was trying to say either, and a second later, she moved on with a curse. I looked at her in question, and she sighed.

"I just got a text from Jesiba. I have to go into work in the morning."

I winced in sympathy, then let Bryce complain to me the rest of the way home. I fell into bed after promising her some kind of baked good when she got home tomorrow to help her get through the work day, and figured that would be the last of the discussion on things with Flynn.

I was very, very wrong.

For the next few weeks, whenever I did any activity that included Flynn, he took every opportunity he got to flirt with me. I never reciprocated, but I didn't totally shut him down either. More than a few of my friends other than Bryce had mentioned it, but I usually brushed their questions off. Flynn and I got on like a wild fire, there was no denying it. But just staying friends, hopefully good friends, still seemed like the best choice to me.

Around a month after Flynn had first started flirting, our whole extended group had decided to go out to the White Raven together to dance the night away and do whatever the hell we wanted to do. Bryce shot me a look on our way out the door, and I raised an eyebrow after locking the door behind us.

"You look good. Are you going to keep ignoring Flynn, or are you finally planning to do something about him tonight?"

I waved her off. "I already told you, Bryce, I'm not-"

"Interested in a one-time thing, yeah, I know. And that's fine. But he's been chasing you for a month. I think you should talk to him, let him know you're not interested."

"I'm sure he'll lose interest soon enough, B. Probably tonight, when he finally gets a break from work to the point that he notices some pretty thing dancing next to him and forgets he ever had a thing for me."

She gave me a skeptical look, but I ignored it. Flynn had become my best friend other than Bryce over the last month, but I wasn't about to start kidding myself that I might be the exception to his lack of interest in relationships.

Bryce and I were the last to arrive, and we found the rest of the group already posted up at a table, the first round of drinks ready to go. Flynn was already out on the dancefloor, and after saying a quick hello to the rest of our friends, I decided to go join him.

"Bryce? You in?"

She grinned and shook her head at me. "Nope. Have fun."

I narrowed my eyes at her, making sure she knew she wasn't being slick and that her implication wasn't appreciated. She blew me a kiss, and I rolled my eyes before turning from the table to go find Flynn on the dancefloor.

"Hey!" he cried, lighting up as soon as he saw me. "Finally!"

He grabbed my hands without hesitation, twirling me around him in the middle of the dancefloor. I smiled and laughed, then fell forward as he pulled me to his chest. I rested my hands on his shoulders, swaying to the beat with him, his beautiful eyes and devilish smile making my heart race. His hands drifted down my waist to rest low on my hips, and it was enough to shake me out of the moment.

I smiled, but put a little more space between us, and Flynn took the hint. He twirled me out and away from him again, and when he pulled me back this time, he dropped my hands. The two of us danced our hearts out, leaving a bit of space between us, letting the music completely take us over. Flynn's eyes still raked over me, but I just grinned back at him as I moved to the beat.

We spent a long, long time out there, dancing our hearts out without caring if we were good, making absolute fools of ourselves. Flynn's eyes stayed locked on me the whole time, that stupid grin never leaving his face. I tried my best to ignore it and just enjoy the moment with the frat boy I'd somehow become best friends with.

Finally, after the song switched again and Flynn showed no signs of slowing down, I had to take a break. I stopped dancing and stepped forward into his space, and Flynn mirrored the move, even leaning down a little so it'd be easier for me to shout into his ear.

"I'm gonna run to the restroom!" I called, still barely able to be heard over the noise. I leaned back and Flynn nodded at me, shooting me one more grin before I turned and headed off through the crowd.

I ducked past all the drunk patrons, and luckily for me, found no line at the bathroom. I paused at the sinks before heading back into the fray to splash some cold water under my eyes, waking me up a little and removing any misbehaving mascara. Then I sighed, gave myself a giant smile in the mirror, and headed for the door back to the rest of the club.

When I stepped into the hallway, to my surprise, I found Flynn standing a few feet from me. He smiled when he caught sight of me, and I came to a stop just in front of him, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing?" I called over the pounding music still coming from the dancefloor. Flynn's grin just widened and he pushed off the wall, moving to stand in front of me. He braced one arm on the wall over my head and leaned in, crowding me and bringing his face down to within inches of mine.

"What I've been wanting to do since we kicked Dec's ass at pool," he responded, his voice low and throaty, just loud enough to be heard over the music. His eyes darted to my lips, and then he was leaning in, intention clear.

My mind went blank as I stared back at him. He was one of the most handsome males I'd ever met, and I really did love talking to him and spending time with him. My heart raced at his proximity, and I'd never admit it to Bryce, but I wanted to kiss him, bad-

But then I thought better of it, as a group of female shifters passed us, staring and giggling into their hands. How many others had Flynn cornered in the hallway like this, for a physical release before he never called them again? How many females in this club had stood in the same place I did now, with the same male?

I pulled away at the last second, ducking under Flynn's arm to get some space from him. He whirled around to look at me with a frown, arms held out at his sides, clearly wondering what the hell I was doing. He took a step towards me and I took one back, which made him freeze on the spot.

"Sweetheart... what's wrong?" he asked, voice laced with confusion and concern. I wrapped my arms around myself and shook my head.

"I don't... I don't want this, Flynn. I don't want to make out with you in a dark club or hookup at the frat house. I don't care that you like to do that, it's your choice and you clearly enjoy it, but I don't. I don't want to be another fling or hookup or whatever before you move onto the next pretty thing that moves."

Flynn scowled. "What? That's not-"

"You've said yourself that you're not a relationship guy, Flynn. I've heard it a dozen times hanging out at the frat house. And that's okay. But I am a relationship person, and I care about you, a lot. Staying friends with you is more important to me than making out with you one time in a club hallway, only for you to turn around and grind with one of the shifters staring you down half an hour later."

Flynn's whole posture deflated, his expression dropping as he looked at me. I pursed my lips together and tried to give him a sympathetic look.

"Sorry, Flynn. I just... I really think this is for the best."

I didn't wait for a response before turning on my heel and heading back out to the dancefloor. I hadn't expected to care so much, but I could feel my heart threatening to shatter in my chest, and I wanted to get out of here before its resolve totally crumpled.

I reached our table to find my friends laughing and talking, Bryce mercifully on one end of the booth. I leaned in when I reached her, and her demeanor immediately became serious when she heard the tone of my voice.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna head home."

She pulled back and whirled around to look at me.

"What? Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I just... I'm ready to go. You don't have to come, I just thought I should let you know."

She scoffed at me, turning away just long enough to scoop up her purse before standing with me.

"Let's go."

I shot her a grateful look, and she linked arms with me without a second look over her shoulder to the males at our table as we headed for the door. I didn't follow her lead, and when I looked back, I saw Flynn up against the wall again, some gorgeous female in front of him and leaning in with obvious intent in her eyes. That little piece of my heart I'd been trying to hold together finally splintered and broke away.

I hadn't wanted to talk about it, but Bryce managed to get the full story out of me before I went to bed. She looked thoughtful, and clearly had some opinions she wanted to share, but I was exhausted and hurting and didn't want to talk about it. Thankfully, that must've shown clearly enough on my face that she let it go.

At least, until I wandered into the kitchen the next morning.

"You look like shit," Bryce said in lieu of good morning, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards me. I narrowed my eyes at her, but took the coffee anyway.

"Thanks. That's about how I feel."

"So... do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay, then I will. Why are you pretending you don't have a thing for him?"

"Who said I was, Bryce? He's absolutely gorgeous and I love spending time with him. He's funny, and chaotic in a good way, and I love talking to him. He's become my best friend here, other than you. But I want to date him, not hookup with him. So there's no point talking about it."

"Are you sure he doesn't want to date you, though?"

I fixed her with a look that communicated clearly how stupid I thought that question was. She shot right back with a fierce look of her own.

"I'm just saying, I haven't seen him with anyone else since you two started hanging out. And he hasn't talked about the single lifestyle since then, either, or even joke-flirted with me."

I sighed and shook my head. "I saw him with somebody as we were leaving the club last night, after I officially shut him down."

Bryce just hummed, eyes narrowed in thought as she sipped her own mug of coffee. I didn't like one thing about that look, so I quickly picked up my mug and headed back to my bedroom.

"I'm getting dressed, and then I'm probably gonna head to the gym. I'll see you tonight!"

I shut the bedroom door behind me before Bryce had a chance to say anything, heaving a sigh of relief the minute it was closed.

I changed quickly, but waited to leave my room until I heard Bryce go into her own. I didn't want to be ambushed and forced into another talk, hence why I was going to the gym in the first place. It would be a good way to lose myself in my music, and to be distracted from feelings by the pain in the rest of my body.

I stayed at the gym for an hour, then took my time showering and getting dressed in the locker room. I stayed under the hot water for a lot longer than usual, trying to wash away the hurt feeling still curled in the center of my chest. It was my own fault, catching feelings for somebody who I knew didn't want a relationship. But that didn't make it any less terrible to try and recover.

When I finally left the gym, the sun was high in the sky, which gave me hope that Bryce might be at work when I got home. I knew I'd have to face her and that thoughtful look she'd had sooner or later, but my preference was later, and I wanted to do everything I could to push that conversation off.

Luckily, our apartment was empty when I pushed back through the door. I sighed, throwing on the first thing that looked good on the tv and heading to the kitchen to make myself some lunch. I'd just settled into the couch and taken the first bite of my sandwich when a knock on the door disturbed me.

Not many people could make it up to our apartment from the lobby, so I knew I couldn't ignore the knock. I set my sandwich down with a huff and crossed the room, not bothering to check the peephole before flinging the door open.

I immediately regretted my decision when I found Tristan Flynn standing before me, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. I frowned, glancing over his shoulder for any sign of the rest of the frat pack, but he was the only one in the hallway.

"Flynn, what- ACHOO!"

My head flung forward violently at the smell of the flowers in Flynn's hands, and I groaned as I straightened up on the other side of the sneezing fit. I looked up at him again, this time through slightly bleary eyes. He looked a little panicked.

"Fuck. Are you allergic to flowers? I told Ruhn it was a stupid idea-"

"Wait, did you bring those for me? Did Ruhn tell you to bring those for me?"

Flynn grimaced. "Yeah. It's a long- hold on."

He cut himself off when he noticed me scrunching my nose, trying to fend off another sneezing fit. He took a few steps back to a pot down the hallway, then with a wave of his hand and a little of his magic, he buried the bouquet in the dirt of the fern.

"Fertilizer," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he returned to stand before me. "Sorry about that."

"That's okay..." I still sounded a little stuffy, but hopefully that would stop soon now that the flowers were out of nose-range. "What... what are you doing here?"

He sighed, staring at the ground for a few beats before abruptly looking up at me. His warm eyes met my own, and that little shard that had broken off last night dug itself in a little harder, almost making me wince in pain.

"I needed to talk to you. I... came to ask you out."

I laughed. When Flynn's face stayed just as grave and serious as it had been, more serious than I'd ever seen him look, I stopped laughing.

"Wait... are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am. Thanks for laughing, by the way."

"I'm sorry, I just, I don't know. Bringing flowers to my door to ask me on a date doesn't really seem like your thing."

"No shit. I almost killed you with those stupid flowers a minute ago." I cracked a smile again, and finally, a smile made its way onto Flynn's face too. He blew out a long breath, then shook his head. "Look, I know I'm not good at this. I've had a lot of practice and time to get good at other things, but... not this. But I don't want you to be a hookup. I've never had more fun in my life than whenever I spend time with you. You're funny and smart and gorgeous, and I haven't given a shit about other females since you sank that first shot in eye-to-eye. So I'm here to ask you on a real date. For... a real relationship."

His face scrunched up a little at the word, and my eyebrows shot into my hairline.

"You know people are usually excited when they talk about a relationship, right?"

"I am," he said, pinning me with the intense stare he normally reserved for Aux business. "This is just... new to me. I'm figuring it out. But I know that I want you, and no one else. I made fun of Quinlan and Athalar for being so sappy about all that 'dating your best friend' shit, but... having met you, it actually sounds kind of nice."

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, especially as Flynn fidgeted in front of me. I'd never seen him nervous like this, probably because he didn't usually fear rejection for meaningless make outs. But that thought brought another image to my mind.

"What about the female in the club last night?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. I failed, emotion breaking through, but at least I'd tried.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"The one you were getting hot and heavy with when Bryce and I left," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Flynn just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Please. She was drunk as hell and throwing herself at the first male she found attractive. Not that I would've minded before, but..." He rested one arm on the doorway above me, leaning into my space with a confident smirk that made my heart race. "Last night I had other things on my mind."

I fought and failed to keep a smile off my face, my gaze dropping from Flynn's. My heart raced at his words and his proximity, and I knew he could hear it. I expected him to rub it in, but instead, he let out a long breath.

"Look, you shot me down last night, and I don't want to put pressure on you and ruin our friendship or whatever. So it's not an issue if you say no, alright? But if you give me a chance..." I looked up, just in time to see that insufferable smirk on his face. "I plan to make the most of it."

This time, I didn't bother fighting the smile as it spread across my face. I rested a hand on Flynn's shoulder and leaned in closer, until I could place a soft kiss on his cheek. His hand immediately dropped from the doorframe to my waist, pulling me tight against him, but I just smirked and leaned back.

"I'm up for a date, Flynn. What did you have in mind?"

He practically growled as his eyes roved my face, down the rest of me, and back up to meet my eyes. More than a small part of my brain wanted to take advantage of the empty apartment behind me, but the rest of me won out. I wasn't about to make it that easy on him.

"I was thinking dinner. Drinks. And then... whatever else we feel like doing, after that."

Everything about Flynn's tone and body language made it clear exactly what he had in mind for "after that". I smiled, leaning into him a little further, bringing one hand up to run it through his hair. Flynn's eyelids fluttered.

"That sounds like a great plan, Flynn. What time do you want to pick me up?"

"Seven?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

With that, I slipped out of Flynn's grip, shooting him a wicked smirk and wave before shutting the door on him.

"What the fuck?" I heard him yell from outside. I just laughed.

"I've got things to do before our date tonight, Flynn!" I called back, knowing he could hear me just fine through the door with his fae hearing. "If you seriously waited a month, I think you can handle a couple more hours."

I could hear him grumbling on the other side of the door, but I just returned to the couch and my waiting sandwich. After a moment, he called out again, loud enough to still be heard.

"Fine! I'll see you tonight then, sweetheart. Get ready for the night of your life."

I didn't respond, not least of all because I didn't trust myself to. If Flynn was all in, then so was I. And I absolutely couldn't wait for our date tonight, from the dinner to the drinks to whatever might come after.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[russica]

My three Tav's I draw consistently 💜🖤💙 I just wanted to draw tongues and this was fun lol

Fun Facts! I have several playthroughs but these 3 are my fave Tav's!

Rax (He/They) is an old OC repurposed. He is a Tiefling Sorceror, played him as an all good run. Rax i calm and collected, a usually laid back guy with an electric temper underneath. He has his own traumas in his past, a history of SA and alcoholism. He's worked very hard to come as far as he has. He is gay and polyamorous, he romanced Astarion and Halsin and I see him going after Rolan and Zevlor as well 💜 He has so much love to give and we stan the Tiefling tail wraps!

Ryth (He/Him) was my first Durge run! He is a Dragonborn fighter and resists the Urge. He is bisexual and monogamous and romanced Gale. Despite his large and gruff, scarred exterior, he's a big sweetheart. Kinda like a cat, he chirps, chitters, and likes head scritches. Touch is his love language, and you can bet your ass he cuddle puddles with everyone and gives hugs and head smooches. He also does platonic cleaning via licking his friends' faces. After the initial confusion/culture shock, he does learn to ask permission first.

Naerym (It/Its) is my first and only Evil Durge run. It is a high elf monk. It is ambiamorous and slept around before canonically settling with Ascended Astarion. It's a cheerful little thing, always smiling and laughing while committing the worst atrocities. It's NOT a good person. Despite being THE WORST, it still cares for its friends (in the way a scientist might care about a long-running experiment). Naerym would've also snatched Kar'niss up in a heartbeat and would've refused to give him up when Astarion inevitably demanded it. (It would've been a bloody fight, but Naerym is a lethal weapon and would've eventually won either with sheer strength or by threatening dirty tactics). They're a toxic power couple lol

Rax and Ryth would be best friends. Rax would be smitten with the tall Dragonborn because Rax is usually the tallest in a room (6'2 v 6'6). Ryth being mono, they'd end up being the two quiet friends discussing their partners over a good meal. Very domestic. They act like they've known each other forever. Rax loves the pillow nest Ryth has and they constantly hug, hold hands, and cuddle.

Ryth and Naerym would be terrible for each other. Ryth is a resist (mostly), and Naerym is an embrace, so... Ryth would commit more crimes, and Naerym would get better at hiding theirs. They would bond over their love of blood and exotic meats, and battles would be bloodier than necessary, and Ryth would listen attentively as Naerym waxxed poetic about its pet spiders. Theor cuddle puddles would be a big production of a fight until Ryth pinned Naerym down (6'6 v 5'6) by flopping his massive frame on top of him.

Rax and Naerym are like fire and ice. Rax does NOT like Naerym. Naerym is touchy but doesn't ask permission. It just latches on, and Rax has electrocuted the thing more than once for it... (Naerym is into it 👀). Rax is a diplomat, believing you should talk it out unless they're slavers or abusing kids/animals, while Naerym is a kill em if they're boring kinda person. Rax would be exhausted trying to keep Naerym in line and Naerym would be having a hell of a time being the biggest nuisance possible. Naerym likes Rax a lot lol. Despite fighting constantly, Rax would still bandage up the dumbass after a battle and would still accept occasional cuddles because he's weak.

[lashton-is-my-drug]

5SOS5 (Deluxe version) track by track overview

Who I have gathered each song is primarily written by/whose story.

As of May 8, 2023 (can always change of course where I’m still unsure in a few places, I remark where).

"Complete Mess" - Luke brought the romantic “you make me complete” chorus, Ash and Cal went and wrote the verses. So basically Luke and Ash, it’s their story together. Ash has the pic of Luke wearing the associated shirt on his phone, ready to show people.

"Easy for You to Say" - Ash wrote the topline (aka lyrics). Which is cool because that’s who I suspected the first time I heard it on their tour. It sounds like his writing. It’s about wanting to settle down in Australia.

"Bad Omens" - possibly Ash wrote, he’s also replied about it on twitter to a fan saying it’s about letting go of people in your life (he also gave the director idea for the music video), I have suspicions though that its about Michael and Calum’s relationship because of hints in the music video. The main character is wearing an earring like Michael. Reference to brown eyes (Crystal’s are blue, Cal’s are brown)

"Me Myself & I" - has a Michael feel to it but I’m not 100% on this one. Being selfish and self sabotaging and excessive lying.

"Take My Hand" (Joshua Tree version) - Luke credited as sole writer, it’s about his own transformational experience.

"Carousel" - Ash, no one talks about lyrics that passionately unless they write them (see the Making of Carousel video), also pay attention to how Luke and Ash are towards each other. “Epic voice” heart eyes ❤️, “epic song”, then Luke singing like Nickelback (shared fave band of theirs).

"Older" (featuring Sierra Deaton) - Luke and Sierra wrote the start of a take on 50’s love songs, then after Luke jokingly sent a voice note to Michael, he pushed them to finish it. Stunt song, but they shaded it for music video. Ash dances with a BLONDE curly haired lady as his partner. At end of video only see the back of a female with Luke for a few seconds. Should’ve been Luke and Ash duet.

"Haze" - not sure, Ash said it took the longest time to write. The part where Luke and Ash are singing to each other about when they’re together don’t have to play pretend. “And when you pick me up, now I don't have to play pretend, And I am human once again”

"You Don't Go To Parties" - Ash, wanting someone who isn’t right there. Reference to 5 years, it’s possible when they finally locked it down since they moved in together (2017) 5 years from when this song was released. Then, there’s the blue sapphire ring (5 year anniversary) that showed up on Ash’s hand where he had been wearing the matching with Luke black onyx ring, on 5sos5 listening party day. Can also have a theme relating to sobriety changing how you relate with partying.

“Blender” - seems to be Calum?

"Caramel" - Luke and Ash written, with John Feldmann for production, Cal for bassline. Lashton love song dealing with how life has gotten more complicated “it used to be easy” but they've been in love so long "It's been a while since you and I have been where we started, I don't want to let it fade away" don’t want to give up on how they’ve felt since the beginning of falling in love “don’t like it fake, I relate, I think it’s true love”. “Love like a landslide, I kiss you Goodnight”, Saying at the end of the day, I still love you. Possibly connected with Fleetwood Mac “Landslide”, sonically the guitar strumming is similar. Ash is a big fan of FM. Landslide about Nicks’ romance with bandmate Buckingham.

“Best Friends” - the whole group, written late in the album making process about their own friendship and to give fans a camaraderie song.

“Bleach” - written with Sarah Aarons, was originally a jingle pitch for Clorox. I'm unsure if to connect this with anything or what to connect it with. Sometimes, a song is a song.

“Red Line” - Ash being melancholy, The Red Line was the train the boys took while living in London, to their songwriting sessions (and whatever else in the area they needed to get to).

“Moodswings” - All 4 have credit. Response to Luke’s “Slipping Away”? Seems to parallel in concept to that song a bit. My suspicion is the lyrics are written by Ash and Luke, Cal for the bassline and/or helping with cohesive lyrics, then Michael for production.

“Flatline” - Ashton wrote, when asked what it was about during the youtube live, Luke slid the laptop towards Ash to answer. I think Ash wrote it for himself about Luke (with a dark twist to it like he did with Complete Mess).

“Emotions” - Michael?, During Ash ig live, right after the line  "I don't wanna think about it, Maybe that's why I'm always high”, Ash said “it’s about me”. Possibility it’s not written by Michael, it was just Michael who sang it because he sounded the best. The guys have said they choose who sings certain parts by who sounds the best at it.

“Bloodhound” - not sure. Too much coincidence with Ash solo album song titled “Greyhound”. So could be Ash.

“TEARS!” - Ash, of course. “Diamond tears”. Is it a coincidence Luke has a song called “Diamonds” on WFTTWTAW? Doesn’t feel “alive” and is “crying”. Why such torment? Depression/sadness and how alone it can make you feel.

[leqclerc]

Honestly I don't see Lewis going to Ferrari ever, because it means giving up a lot of the freedom Mercedes allows him, because there they see him as Lewis Hamilton the 7 (8) wdc and Lewis Hamilton the person both in their equal rights, where in Ferrari there is just Lewis the driver, and seeing how they treated Seb in end I'm not sure they'll get him the respect as driver that Lewis should have.

This team is a sinking ship, because the problems are too deep and the people inside are not too willing to let go of their old ways. And if you don't have a love, a straight up admirarion close to worship for Ferrari, I'm sorry (or maybe glad) but this team is not for you, because it takes quite the self sacrifice to withstand what Charles is right now.

And haven't we learned anything in recent years about what makes a good pair in a (supposed) top team? Guess a hint: not having two "first" drivers. Ferrari would need a Bottas/Checo type of teammate to make it work, be with Charles or Lewis, we don't need another Charles/Seb situation or Charles/Carlos again. (First we would need a good car but that doesn't seem a priority...)

I don't believe these rumors, and I don't like them personally. Sorry to who would love a Charles and Lewis line up, but it's just a mistake for Lewis especially, because Charles already picked his poison (and these are my two faves)

Yeah, I agree. 👆🏻

At this point Ferrari has had a whole slew of talented drivers. They've tried it with established champions and they've tried it with the "uncut gems" like Charles or even Carlos who, for all his mileage didn't really have many solid achievements to his name until literally last year. And none of it is yielding anything because, like you said, the team at its core has far too many unresolved issues. Ferrari is in essence its own worst enemy. We saw so much of that last year, shooting themselves in the foot with ridiculous strategies whenever it was theirs to lose. At this point I don't think it matters who is in that seat, if it's a multiple time WDC or not. Those same mistakes will still creep in. As you pointed out, we saw how things ended with Seb.

A lot also depends on the fickle higher ups and their ~vision for the team, and those are constantly in rotation. Seb even mentions in one of his last interviews at Ferrari, that most of the people (mechanics, engineers, etc.) who were there when he first joined the team in 2015 were no longer there by the time he was leaving.

Another reason why Red Bull and Mercedes have managed to be so successful is because they have continuity—Toto's been the TP since 2013, while Horner's been at the helm since RBR's inception in 2005. That's almost 20 years. They've had worse years, they've had dominant years, but the core team remains the same and they basically follow the same philosophy of rallying around the lead driver, be it Seb, Max, or Lewis in Merc's case. That's not to say that there's never been any internal conflicts within the teams, because I'm sure there have been, but they rarely let it negatively impact the racing team. Whereas Ferrari's politicking and internal tug-of-war between factions has prevented them from doing what's objectively best for the team. Having enjoyed that kind of treatment at their respective teams I think Lewis or Max would have significantly less patience to deal with all of Ferrari's mishaps. Honestly I think the team's shenanigans would wear them down before they'd "fix" the team or win a championship with them.

I think one of Ferrari's biggest problems is how they manage (or rather, mismanage) their drivers. Maybe this is linked to the politicking aspect, I don't know (God knows some of their decisions are far from sound and reasonable.) What Red Bull and Mercedes do so well is toe the line—on one hand you want people to believe both drivers have a chance in a championship fight, for example, because that generates engagement, but on the other you know who they chose to back 100%. It's not that Valtteri or Checo wanted to be number twos willingly. Of course they didn't/don't, all twenty drivers are where they are because they believe they can become champions. But the way their respective teams handled the situation yielded the results we've seen. Whether that's fair or not is up for debate, I guess. The point is Ferrari isn't putting their foot down or using their executive power to its maximum, even in situations where you would expect them to. This point is maybe less relevant this year, but it sure was last year. All this talk of equal treatment and equal chances while Red Bull were laughing their way to the FIA prize-giving gala... 🙄

Charles picked his poison, you're right, and especially now, with Fred on board, I think he'll look to extend his contract and see how things pan out once the awkward transition period ends and the changes Fred brings about become more apparent. Right now they're still dealing with the mess Binotto left behind as his "legacy," so they're kind of in a weird place as a team. However, even with all his passion and love and belief in the team, I really hope he goes about it in a sensible way that provides him with some sort of future security.

[udaberriwrites]

Heyo Annie! I have returned with the second of the five character asks! This time for Temeraire - tell me about William and Tenzing!

Oh, no, it's Oblivious Noble Idiots this time! My one weakness!

William Laurence

1: sexuality headcanon

I headcanon him as a sex-favorable to sex-neutral ace, very much biromantic, and this is the hill I will die on, please and thank you.

2: otp

I honestly am fine with pretty much every paring and triad here? Of course Tharkay, Granby, Roland and Bonaparte would be at the top of the list, but like... literally any human. Even crossover humans. A Elizabeth/Darcy/Laurence story would make my day xD

...I kind of like the idea of Laurence/Hammond too, because Hammond always looks kind of awestruck and I think it's cute. Plus he was Laurence's second that one time :3

... though Temeraire and Churki would definitely come to blows over who gets to consider the humans as theirs in that ship... so maybe not 😂

3: brotp

Temeraire, of course, who else? I mean, human&dragon friendship is pretty much always awesome, but I adore the open love they show each other, the way they feel like an inevitability. These are Temeraire's formative years, and it's plain to see how he'll cherish them in the future, even with the hardships.

4: notp

Any dragon. Just... purely on the logistics alone, I can't wrap my head around it. Though I do believe that some human somewhere, sometime has indeed tried 😳

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

He was an ensign on the Surprise with this universe's equivalent of Jack Aubrey. They both pretend to hate each other but deep down they are friends.

Laurence pretends to lose bets to give Aubrey money without it seeming like charity, and Aubrey was the first to welcome him back to England after League of Dragons by shaking him and making him promise he's never doing another fool thing again, I swear to God, Will, since when am I the responsible one??

6: favorite line from this character

"I would rather have you by my side than any ship in the fleet" 😭😭

7: one way in which I relate to this character

His reaction to other characters' romantic overtures is to go ????? Wait, were you flirting???? I love it xD

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

That whole bit when Granby tells him he's gay in Crucible of Gold and Laurence is like 🤯. I mean, he does work to get better, but that wasn't his best moment, no

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

He would definitely see himself as a problematic fave, on account on all the disobeying orders and being an aviator and all. But since pretty much the rest of the characters see him as a (very uptight) cinnamon roll, he's outvoted.

Tenzing Tharkay

1: sexuality headcanon

Probably bi, likes stubborn people who won't let him get away with closing himself off to the world. Also, blondes.

2: otp

The man crossed the world (several times over) to be with his Englishman, and brought him a few dozen dragons, if that isn't a declaration of love I don't know what is. Also, random question, would a soulmate bond heal amnesia, no reason, asking for a friend.

3: brotp

Jane Roland. They bond over having been/being attracted to the same moron and the general stupidity of the British populance. Also being scary good and very competent in their fields and keeping the aforementioned moron from getting himself killed.

4: notp

Same as before, any dragon, mainly.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

He and Granby had gotten drunk together on the tune of "why are all the good ones taken, straight or utterly oblivious, and is chronical stupidity contagious."

6: favorite line from this character

I forget the exact wording, but when he asked Laurence "what if we become pirates together 😙"

7: one way in which I relate to this character

Certainly not his sense of direction, I'd get lost on an empty field xD

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

Him leaving without confessing explaining what he meant when he offered Laurence to run away together. Twice.

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Neither, he's too prickly to be a cinnamon roll and while others in universe are bigoted towards him, his epic relationship with the gang is actually quite wholesome.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Ooh! Again, like @turanga4's I had to pick things I haven't asked you before. But I am curious:

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from? ( I think I already know one )

and

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

But from my end...

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

My favourite fic, from the ones you've written thus far and that I've read, is definitely Marge getting stuck in the toilet. It still makes me laugh and I've read it a couple of times. But Remus and Tonks by the seaside confessing their love is a close fave.

Thanks for the ask!

32. Top 3 favorite lines or jokes?

Okay, some of the cleverer ones all come from my favorite long fic, my time traveling Tonks story, The Nymph of House Black. Dora/Tonks plays a prank on the Marauders and gives them the following books (that are then revealed in public):

James: The letters of the book title were now plain for all to see: Natural Wand Enlargement: A Guide for the Micro-sized Wizard.

Sirius, blushing furiously, held the book up for all to see: Untwisting Her Knickers: The Complete Guide to Charming an Older Witch.

Remus: He grew crimson with embarrassment, but held his book up for the others to see: Clean Trousers, Happy Heart: Taming an Uncontrollable Bowel Before it Tames You.

Peter was startled enough that the book fell out of his hands and was displayed to everyone in the corridor: Even Late Bloomers Are Beautiful: They’ll Drop Soon Enough.

I know that's four lines but the entire exchange was fun to write. As a second place, my next favorite joke was from the sequel, The Nymph of House Tonks, in which Tonks and her dad are working on a special fund for werewolf benefits:

Over the next hour and a half, Tonks signed her name in more places than she could have ever imagined. They had haggled on the name for the fund. Tonks wanted to call it the “Bellatrix Lestrange Memorial Werewolf Appreciation Fund” to spite her aunt’s memory, but Ted had talked her out of it. Her next suggestion, the “Tom Riddle Werewolf Lovers Fund,” had also been shot down. 

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

A few gave me ideas, yes. One of the first fics I read was Debt of Time, a time traveling Hermione story. I kept wondering 'what if we did this, but Remadora? and avoided a few other tropes?' Basically, I did like Debt of Time, but there were a lot of elements in it and other time travel fics that I struggled with. I resolved to make a fic that avoided those pitfalls.

12. I'm so glad you liked my little fic, Marge's Malodorous Mishap! As it happens, it's my favorite title because of the alliteration :)

[sailorshadzter]

just a little something.

ive been super down in the dumps- between a death in my family & scary medical news for someone i love so very much (not to mention, hello black friday is THIS WEEK) it's just been... a lot. it was nice to step back & write something sweet & soft for my faves. <3

When he dreams, its of a garden overflowing with lush greenery.

It's of the golden summer sunlight glinting off of auburn hair, it's of the soft, almost lyrical laughter that chases along the sweet smelling breeze. Jon... The voice calls out to him and he smiles, for just that voice alone brings him happiness. Brings him peace. In these gardens, which so certainly belong to Winterfell, he cannot recall feeling such a happiness as he does in these dreams, but he wants to hold onto it. He never wants to let it go. And he never will.

This day when he wakes, he's not alone as he once might have been.

Rolling onto his side, Jon can't help but to take in the sight of his sleeping partner, with her hand tucked beneath her cheek. For all these years he's chased after dreams of her, between battles with dragons and lions and even the undead. Between taking back what was always theirs and reclaiming the family they had thought was gone for good... Somewhere amidst all of that, they'd fallen in love. Wrong, some might say, but for them it was the best thing they ever could have asked for.

Leaning over, he presses a kiss against her temple, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair; she stirs, somewhat, body twisting beneath the sheets, reminding him of the long night they'd spent together. Chuckling, he slips from the bed himself to dress, the fire already burning in the hearth offering him both the light and warmth to do so. Though winter was finally coming to a close, the mornings were especially cold, as were the nights, with a break of warm winter sunlight throughout the afternoon. It would not be long now, though, before spring would come and then certainly the summer he dreams of would follow behind.

Just as he's stuffing his feet into his boots, he hears the sound of her coming back to the waking world. "Good morning, sweetheart," he greets as he sinks down onto her side of the bed, unable to help himself from reaching out and brushing a lock of hair from her face. She lets out a sleepy sounding sigh before she pushes herself up into a sitting position, red hair falling about her shoulders. Once again he's reminded of the night before, of when her hair had spread across her pillow as he stared down at her from above; the memory sends chills down his spine. "Sleep well?"

She scoffs, but she's smiling as she slides her legs out from beneath the furs so she might rise up from the bed. "What little sleep I got, yes, I suppose so," she says as she tugs on her fur lined robe, dancing away from his reaching hands. "I had a dream," she goes on to say, turning back around to face him, a smile curving on her lips.

"Oh?" He asks, holding out his hands, to which she comes willingly now. She settles into place on his lap, legs straddling his hips, her arms draping over his shoulders. "Tell me," he says softly, only after he's leaned in and kissed her.

"It was summer... It was so warm..." She speaks slowly, as if she can't quite remember it all. "I thought I'd forgotten what summer felt like, but..." The warmth of the dream permeates to the waking world and even now, she swears she can feel the warmth of the sun on her back. "You were there, in the gardens I think..." It was Jon's voice she can recall calling out to her; Sansa... Sansa... The sweetest of sounds. "What?" She asks then, realizing now that Jon is staring at her as if she's grown a second head. "What have I said?"

Jon can only laugh, leaning in so he can tip his forehead against hers. "It would seem we have the same dreams, my sweet," he says, one hand sliding into place in her mess of auburn waves. Her kiss comes next and something about it tells him they will be missing that morning's meal.

And sure enough, a few hours later when they finally emerge from their rooms, she's donned a gown the color of the summer sky, a reminder of the dreams they share, and the future that's still to come.

[gingerswagfreckles]

Queer is my fave word, thanks for posting about that book, I'm gonna try to get a copy! It's just awesome to have an umbrella term for not feeling cis-hetero but not entirely certain where you fit under the umbrella yet.

Ahh yes!! You mean Gay New York by George Chauncey? That book is THE book on queer history in the US (it's really not just about NYC, but it is focused there). Not only is it the most meticulously well researched book I have EVER read, it is just. So brilliant in how it analyses the construction of and intersection of gender, sexuality, biological sex, class, race, and society. Like I read it for a class in freshman year of college and trust me I was already EXTREMELY liberal and well versed in queer discourse. Yet it completely I mean COMPLETELY changed my understanding of not only sex and gender but just like. What identity is, how much of what we see as static and natural are actually very contextual social constructs. And it really showed in a very concrete and reality based way how every identity exists and is defined through the context of its environment, and that while our experiences are very inherently real, the lines we draw around these experiences to define them are not. Like. The existence of a queer identity the way we generally think of it now did NOT exist in the same way throughout history. The intersection of so many facets of life have been interpreted so completely differently throughout history and in different places and social contexts. The queer community has never been some static and well defined club that one is or is not a member of. It is and always has been a nebulous and highly changeable social network of people with common experiences and interests who have defined their own communities in wildly different ways depending on where you look. Trying to strictly define who does or does not belong in or who has or hasn't existed in the queer community throughout history is completely pointless, because in reality we are talking about an absolutely enormous group of people who have been variously connected to and socially isolated from others, who have seen their own identities and their own communities in completely different ways.

It really highlighted for me how pointless 99% of the discourse on this website is, and how much almost all of it boils down to a fundamental misunderstanding of what identity is. NONE of the identities we think of as inherently real are inherently real, and arguing about who should be included in a community or who's identities are "valid" just shows that you think the framework through which you understand sex and gender is universal rather than cultural, contextual, and highly individual. Like, identities overlap! Identities step on each others toes!!! Words and labels change, and people do not universally agree on what they mean at any point in time!!! You would not believe how many people who you would think of as being part of the queer community didn't think of themselves as part of the queer community, and you would not believe how many people who you do NOT think of as part of the queer community DID see themselves as part of it, and were accepted!!

Like, for example, the interpretation of what it even meant to be "homosexual" was SO different depending on what period on time you look at, what location, what social and financial class these people were part of, what racial identity they saw themselves as (and that's a whole 'nother can of worms!) Sexuality was often seen as MUCH more connected to gender performance and sexual roles one took than it is today, and a lot, I mean a LOT of men who always topped did not see themselves as homosexual/gay/part of the queer community at all, especially in working class communities. And!! Guess what!! This is the part that will really blow your mind!!!

T H E Y W E R E N ' T W R O N G!!!!!!!!!!!

They were not WRONG about how they defined their identities or how they saw themselves in relation to a certain social community!! Because they were using their OWN social and sexual framework to interpret their identities and their actions!!! And saying they were WRONG in their interpretation fundamentally misunderstands that the criteria YOU use to measure whether someone is part of an identity or social group is not any more correct or real than the criteria THEY used! Saying these people were "wrong" is to impose one's own modern and highly contextual social framework on people from the past-- and TBH it's fine to see people from the past through modern lenses, and to recognize that they would be seen as gay/a certain identity by modern standards. That's fine! But the way they saw themselves then wasn't wrong, it was just different, and your criteria for what you see as gay or straight or part of a community is just as arbitrary and based on the context of your environment as theirs was.

People like to argue with this all the time, saying things like that these individuals were just suffering from internalized homophobia, gender bias, ignorance of what this or that identity "really" means, and these people are really really really misunderstanding the point. These are usually the same people who say things like "words mean things!!" when points like the one I'm making are brought up, because they continue to misunderstand how much these words yes, mean things, but mean things within historical and cultural contexts that are NOT shared by the entire world. Like, ok, you may say our example man from the 1910s is gay whether he recognized that or not, because he engaged in homosexual acts. But what does it mean to have homosexual sex? To have sex with someone of the same biological sex? Well what is biological sex, and how do we define what makes ones biological sex the "same" or "different" from your own? Is it someone with the same type of genitals as you? That's not a universally shared opinion, and the way you define the "types" of genitals are not universally shared either. What if I told you that there have been cultures throughout history who have categorized biological sex through the length of the penis, with people with shorter penises being seen as a separate sex than those who have longer penises? So two people with penises could have sex with each other and not be understood as having sex with someone of the same sex, in that culture!

Oh, that's not what you meant? That's wrong? Why? Why? Because your personal understanding and your culture's general perception of what biological sex is is more valid and real than that culture's? Why? WHY? Could you really explain why, or is it just that the difference is making you uncomfortable, because it threatens your perception of a LOT of the ideas you see as inherently real?

And we could do the same thing with the ACT of sex! I mean, what is sex? What physical acts are sexual, and what aren't? Is it just someone putting a body part inside of another person's body in some way? Well what about handjobs and other kinds of outercourse? Is sex then some physical thing we do in pursuit of an orgasm? What if you don't orgasm? Is it not sex then? Is sex the use of our bodies to derive general physical pleasure? Well what about a massage? Is a massage sex? In some times and places, many people would have said yes!

These aren't just theoretical questions- Chauncey outlines how these differing definitions of what sex is and what makes it queer not only allowed for a lot of people we would unquestioningly think of as part of the queer community to exclude themselves, but also resulted in the inclusion of people we would never consider to be queer now. Like, most female prostitutes who served only male cliental absolutely hands down refused to give blow jobs in the early 1900s, because blowjobs were seen as an extremely deviant expression of sexuality and were understood to be part of "homosexual" activity, regardless of the sex or genders of the people involved, because it was sexual activity that explicitly was not seeking to create a baby. This was a widely understood concept at the time, and persisted despite the fact that many of these women were using contraception and therefore obviously not seeking to get pregnant. Blowjobs were still seen as perverse and "homosexual," and thus not something most regular female prostitutes were willing to engage in.

Therefore! Female prostitutes who only ever had sex with male cliental but DID provide oral sex (and many other not-penis-in-vagina-activities) were often lumped in with lesbians!!! And treated as such in arrest records and propaganda! And guess what?? As a result, guess who these women usually hung around with, and where they usually could be found? Within the queer community and queer spaces!! These women were seen by the broader society as well as by much of the queer community as QUEER, and many of them likely understood themselves this way as well!

And for the record, these questions of what sex is and what gender is and what makes it gay or straight or whatever are not questions that belong strictly to the past. Survey the general population about what act they consider to have been the one where they "lost their virginity," and you will get wildly different answers. Survey self identified gay or straight people on what kind of sex acts they engage with and with who, and you will similarly find an enormous variation in reports.

And these questions MATTER! These questions matter, not in that we have to find some way to answer them, but in order to understand that we can't, definitively, and that thinking our own perceptions of any of these things are more valid than others' perceptions is incredibly harmful and dismissive to the lived experiences of other people. You can't define other people's identities out of existence just because they threaten or overlap or contradict with your own understanding of some concept, because your definitions of literally any of the criteria you are using to try to build your boxes are ALSO up for interpretation!

Like, I'm sorry I know I am rambling soooo much but you opened the same floodgates that this book opened back when I read it. If the people on this stupid website had any understanding of the history they claim to know so much about, they would see how their attitudes of "this identity is more valid than that identity" and "you can't sit with us because you're not actually part of this or that identity because my definition is better than your definition" is nothing new or woke or progressive, but is the exact same shit that has always been done and has been used to marginalize people who's existence or behaviors threaten the status quo. Like yelling at asexual or pansexual or nonbinary or aromantic people or whatever other group that they don't belong, or that their identity isn't real because it threatens the perceived integrity of another identity...it's all so stupid!! Your identity is also just a way for you to define yourself within your cultural context! Like I've literally seen people be like "asexality isn't a real identity bc if we didn't live in a society that was so sex obsessed then you wouldn't feel the need to define yourself this way." And it's like....what?? Yeah, ok??? But we do live in this society???????? And you can say that about LITERALLY ANY identity??! Not even ones related to sex and gender! Like "you aren't really deaf and deafness isn't real, because if we lived in a world without sound then you wouldn't notice you couldn't hear." Like yeah?? But we do live in a world with sound?? So...people find this term useful to articulate their experiences? And they might even dare to form an identity around it, and maybe a community, and might even become proud of it, even though it is a social construct, just like pretty much everything else??

It just drives me nuts. We go around and around in circles without ever understanding that so much of the bigotry we face is the same thing we are perpetuating with each other, because we don't understand that it is natural and normal for people's definitions of certain identities to conflict, and for their interpretations of the world to run up against each other sometimes. And that there is no strictly defined queer community, and who does or doesn't "belong" is not a decision that any one person or even any one culture gets to make, ever.

To try to finally actually wrap back around to what your actual comment was to begin with, I think queer is a wonderful word, and that GENERALLY SPEAKING in our current cultural context, it is used to encapsulate so much of the messiness and overlap that makes people so uncomfortable, but is what makes the queer community so great!!!!! That being said, it of course has had different definitions in different time periods and cultural contexts just like everything else, and some people may still have negative connotations associated with it and therefore not feel comfortable using it to self-identify. And that's fine too, as long as you don't try to force other people to stop using the term to describe their own identities on the basis that your definition is more real than theirs, which is the opposite of what queer history is all about.

If anyone is interested in the book I am talking about, you can buy it as an ebook, audiobook, or paper copy here: https://www.basicbooks.com/titles/george-chauncey/gay-new-york/9780786723355/

It goes into way way way more depth about everything I'm rambling about here, and backs it up with the most research and evidence I've ever seen in one single book. The physical copy is about as thick as two bricks stacked on top of each other, so if you can't get an exclusionist to read it, you can always just whack them over the head.

[tarotchariotpickyourcard]

Pick a card: What food would you be, and why?

Who doesn’t like a good old quiz that equates you to food or items? Yes, I have taken many quizzes myself such as "what fruit are you?" "we know how old you are based on your food taste" and "which tv show character are you" etc.

I have the food fortunes deck, and while it is simply for fun and not technically an oracle or tarot deck, perhaps it may actually give an insight into the depth of our psyches? Or just give us an idea for dinner today. Maybe that.

So here it is, laid out for you to choose from. You remember the game - Have a bit of a breather, relax, maybe even close your eyes for a second. See if a number comes up, or a charm here stands out to you. (Sorry for the bad picture this just isn't my forte. )

There are 5 groups this time!

Group 1 is the blue wing.

Group 2 is the owl ring.

Group 3 is the crystal circles

Group 4 is Blossom (Powerpuff girls)

Group 5 is a badge saying Mickey.

GROUP 1 - BLUE WING

THE VIETNAMESE. (Banh mi) - The hanged man - Queen of cups.

Congratulations! You’re a main dish. The banh mi is a baguette that is crispy and airy, filled with whatever savoury ingredients you like. Some place vegetables in there, some eggs, some meat.

Can’t decide? Well, have as much as you can put on the thing and you get all the good stuff. Laugh at me, when I seem to take this seriously by comparing your personality to the texture of a baguette.

No, wait, it’s a good thing - I promise!

Seriously though, a light and airy personality makes you refreshing to be around. With the queen of cups, this makes me think of someone who is good at lightening up the atmosphere, cheering people up and saying “oh well” about the negative stuff, with a bit of sympathy and compassion for other people. The banh mi gives me indecisive vibes, because you can have so much on it, and the hanged man can be that way too sometimes. However, with the ability to make it any way you want, for sure I think you’re a person with an open mind to options. Whatever you choose, it’ll always be an interesting result.

_______________________________________

____________________________________________________

GROUP 2 - OWL RING

ACE OF MAINS (canned soup)- The Moon

So relaxed, so soothing. Just what you need when you’re not feeling the best. Soup! Heaven sent meal for comfort and ease. You’re likely to be compassionate, like group 1.

However, I think it could be one of your strongest traits. The moon is so feminine, so gentle. You’re the one people need, and probably have had people rely on you in the past. All I can get from this combination is that you’re probably a good example to other people as you can help them relax, showing them the importance of caring for themselves.

What can I say? It’s what it says on the tin.

Which literally, if you look, it says “with salt”. Is there sass? Maybe.

______________________________________________

___________________________________________________

GROUP 3 - CRYSTAL

Ok, look, I don’t mean it when I say it. But you got “The mess”

I didn’t put it in capitals because it makes it sound different. Ok. You’re welcome.

In all seriousness, You are the popsicle! That’s literally cool as heck. You know what? You’re *my* favourite dessert. So refreshing. With the two of cups I honestly get the idea of you being described as “chill” and being able to mediate or calm down tempers. I’m getting a pretty balanced personality, and an ability to keep calm in situations that would have other people more than just sweating. Just a note. If you feel like you don’t fit in a certain situation or group, it’s not you being unworthy, it’s just sometimes things don’t match the best.

Also, cool music taste.

______________________________________________

___________________________________________________

GROUP 4 - BLOSSOM

THE STRAIGHT SHOOTER (whipped cream) - 5 of swords

Well well well. WELL, WELL, WELL.

So here you are. The classic tell-it-how-it-is person.

From the looks of it, the reason being, you’re fast and quick witted. You can spin a response or a story quickly. I would honestly be afraid to be in an argument with you, because we both know who the winner would be.

Not only that, I see the ability to “whip” up a solution to issues very well. We do love a problem solver. It would be funny if you are a fast runner, or have fast reaction times because all I can think of is fast fast fast.

I’m also seeing not caring about society's expectations on how you should look. Nice.

------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------------------

GROUP 5 - “MICKEY” BADGE

THE SWEET HOLEY ONE. (donut) - 6 OF CUPS

Aw, you’re a sweet heart. These 2 cards together give me soft vibes. Sweet, sentimental, nostalgic. However, what’s this? I see the police car on the classic fave of theirs, the donut, and a skeptical face on the 6 of cups. While sentimental and a darling on one hand, you have a laser focus on other people and their….bull excrement.

While you can have a soft spot for people and the possibility to give the benefit of the doubt, you seem to know when enough is enough. You’ve got that open heart but the boundaries and know how of a confident fully grown (or growing up) person. I get the idea of being night and day with different people. It’s probably harder to get close to you out of all the groups, because when you open up, you’re the sweetest and kindest, but I’m seeing the boundary line and being the opposite with others.

______________________________________________

____________________________________________

Ok, I think I’m done thinking too deeply on what foods mean as personalities.

I hope this was fun, it was a shorter reading but I’ll make up with a long one next week!

Till then!

[minisoysquares]

As fun as the events and ideas you posted about 19days would be, wouldn’t it also just bring in more negative stuff - like fandom in general has become a field of land mines and I fear that something that’s supposed to fun will turn into some sort of battle. Like how some people get extremely heated over any other ships outside of their fave ship and they cannot possibly have other ships except theirs, etc. The last thing anyone wants is for content creators to be targeted simply for making something they thought would be fun

(This ask and answer is about this post.)

First of all thank you so much for addressing such a big and valid concern. I agree that that has indeed happened in certain fandoms - I can say I've been in the thick of it and witnessed quite the warfare - but in others it has also brought fans and readers and content creators together even closer and tighter in a wonderful thriving community.

I have the feeling this'll get quite long so please proceed under the cut with that in mind.

I believe all things are potential harbingers of both discord and harmony. There will always be people who feel entitled and who want - even demand! the audacity! - authors and artists to create for their ships and their ships alone. And there will also always be people who can appreciate the writing and the art without judgemental treatment regarding the pairings/characters depicted, no matter their preferences.

All of that happens and will continue to happen, whether we go forward with these events or not. And yet authors will still write what they want to write, artists will still draw what they want to draw, graphic designers will still make the edits they want to make as well. What we could do, in this small and close knit fandom, is take in our hands this powerful rich opportunity and try our best to make a model of positivity out of it.

In these events, there would be no bashing or shaming allowed. The content created would be to be enjoyed by those who are attracted to it, and those who do not have a taste for that fanwork in particular would be asked to remain respectful. (As it should always be.) There would be no ship wars in these spaces. Discourse, hate-speech or anti-behaviour would not be tolerated by the moderators of the event.

Creators who indulged in it would be immediately disqualified. Any unnecessary commentary or complaints from the audience would be deleted and reported as spam. Anyone instigating conflict would be only painting a target on their back, really. Because most of us - I dare say - are only here to appreciate the brilliant artwork and fanfiction woven and crafted by the talented people who share it with us.

If it came to it and it escalated, this hellsite has several tools that can be put to use to that regard. Accounts could be blocked and/or even reported. They wouldn't be able to interact with the blogs created to run these events from then on. We would be able to create a black list and post it publicly so everyone else who wished to could simply block those unruly pesky accounts and remain at peace and free to enjoy themselves to their utmost.

Let us not forget that this is all fiction and it's all for fun. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, likes and dislikes. There simply is no need to step on anyone else and their interests to elevate them.

Let's exemplify, for the sake of clarity:

Do I personally ship A with B? Imagine I do not. I do not search for it. If I come across it? I scroll past it. Once or twice, I may even like - and even reblog - if it happens to catch my attention and it's well written/drawn! (I have tags along the lines of 'I don't ship it but' and 'look at this beautiful art' or 'drown in the power of these words.')

It's so easy to interact amongst ourselves without coming with pitchforks at one another. Know what actually needs effort? Being a meanie and a party popper! Who in their right mind wastes their time on things they don't care for? Dum dums, that's who! Of course, we're all dummies at times... and that's okay! Let's just not harass people or crash their fun while we're at it!

If nothing else: you wouldn't like if others did this or that to you, therefore don't do it to others. It's a simple concept to grasp.

Very important: in these events, every single piece would be explicitly and properly tagged and warned for right at the very top of each post, so there would be absolutely no excuses for anyone being nasty.

We would just have to be open to the experience. Enjoy our ships and let other enjoy theirs. We do not have to all like the same thing. That would be just boring. But we can cohabitate devoid of trouble in fandom. Each one of us just has to be respectful. No need to even be nice. No one has to compliment something they don't like. They also don't have to step on what others do.

Don't like a ship/character/theme? Don't read stories focused on it. Don't put down authors who write it or readers who enjoy it. Same for art. No need to shout about how awful it is just for the simple reason that it does not fit into your personal shipping preferences. It can still be still be a tasty and wonderfully baked cake, it's just that you're not fond of vanilla or strawberries. It's okay. There are all kinds of cake for everyone's tastes!

Further examples: If a ship happens to be a NOTP for me or I don't care for the character(s)? I filter the tags. All of them. Any and every tag I can think of. It's very easy to protect ourselves on Tumblr from content we do not wish to see. (My own list is huge and just as effective.) Filtering is incredibly important.

So go ahead and filter out the ships you can do without! Filter out porte-manteaux like Tianshan, Zhanyi, Qiucheng, Tianxi, Tianyi, Lishan, Litian, Liyi, Shantou, Polydays, (...) Filter out any ship tag that doesn't strike your fancy like Q x MGS, HC x JY's mom, (...) Filter out characters that aren't your cuppa tea like HT, HT's dad, SL, JY's mom, XH, (...)

Make it safe for yourself and for others. That way you won't rage at the sight of your NOTP, won't feel the compulsive need to trash the people who ship it, no one is hurt and everyone is happy!

There are many steps we could follow to prevent rotten eggs in our coop. And many more actions we could take to throw them out if need be. I firmly believe, however, that if we're all of the same mind everything would go well and with very few bumps along the way.

If we only ever feared the possible negative consequences of our actions, never taking the risk for the possible positive ones, we'd never get anything done. I say let's not let our beloved fandom stagnate or dry out. Let's incentivate and motivate and inspire! Let's share! Let's have fun!

Think of it in these terms: it wouldn't be a competition at all but rather a charity event. Performers and spectators coming together for a common good, raising content and spreading joy! There would be no winners or losers or prizes. What would matter would be good old-fashioned participation, both by providing content and/or consuming it.

It could also a good way to get people to express themselves more. Many content consumers tend to lurk or keep to themselves even if they like the content posts. (I used to be one myself and only a couple months ago started to come out of my shell.) I myself advocate for reblogging instead of liking - if you have to choose one or the other, I mean, why not do both? - and leaving a word on every single post I like and/or reblog. Sometimes I go nuts commenting, sometimes I leave a small note in the tags.

It doesn't matter how. Even if you're shy or introverted (*raises hand*) or don't know what to say I guarantee a single emoticon or a string of disordered letters symbolising incoherence will make the creator's day all the same. Getting feedback is so important and motivational for creators and also a great way for fandom members to keep in touch and support each other.

Additionally, if a person would like more of a certain type of content here are some healthy actions they could take: a) commission a creator and pay for it if they can; b) politely make a suggestion to a creator with an open ask box; c) post a prompt publicly for possible interested creators to use; d) do it yourself and share it with others!

This turned out into more of a "behavioural guidelines" thing than I'd have liked. I am not in any way whatsoever telling anyone what to do. This is what I do, and it works wonders for me. I stay completely out of toxic arguments and in on all the goodies. I'm able to fully enjoy my fandoms. And isn't that what we all want?

Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me. And I apologise for the long rant!

Of course, this is only my personal stance on the issue. I did go for a survey first exactly for this end, to get their opinions on the subject and see if it would be worth a shot. I shall hope many other people will think as I do, but I will wholly respect those who don't.

[pixie88]

Hi pixie, I saw you shared these asks and thought I'd send you a few. 💚

🎤fave line in a fic you wrote?

50 question ask 12, 16, 20, 24.

Deep ask 2, 4, 17, 20.

Whoa @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer talk about a list! 🤣🤣

🎤fave line in a fic you wrote?

It has to be when Nina, Al, Ellie and Adam are making cocktails at home (Ellie is pregnant, so she's not drinking) and they make these blue lagoon cocktails. Nina says the following:

"Our tongues are blue. We look like we've given a Smurf a blowjob!"

That's is a real life story happened on a hen do 🤣🤣

50 Questions asks.

12, What’s something about your best friend that you love?

After the first lock down I the UK I pulled away from people I considered my best friends (they would talk about me behind my back and I saw proof. A lot of other stuff happened but I'm not boring you with that)

They probably don't consider me as theirs, but they are mine.

@secretaryunpaid @aussieez they are just there to listen to a rant and break me out of my bad mood with laughter 💜

My neighbour is also another best friend I see her every morning and even when I try so hard to hide it she can see when I'm upset 💜

I just realised I sound like a moody person 🤣🤣

16, Describe your favorite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?

It's not a hoodie but a t-shirt. Hubby used to wear it when we went to college together I always loved it on him. 4 years later we moved into together and he still had it, it's a Micheal Jordon black top with a gold MJ on it. It's no longer his 🤣🤣

20, What kind of math are you best at?

🤣🤣🤣 the kind where you don't have to do it! 🤣🤣 I hate maths and I'm shocking at it @aussieez helped me a few times when home Schooling in lock down 🤣🤣

24, Are you a good driver?

Well I haven't killed anyone! So I guess so! 🤣🤣 I think I am as long as hubby isn't in the car. He's the worst passenger driver ever!

Deep asks.

2, what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

I doubt myself alot in everything! Especially being a mum, I would say I question if I am a good mum at least 100 times a day! 🤦‍♀️ I put myself down a lot!

4, tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad?

I would say it was when I was like 7 years old. I had this teddy that was like over 5ft tall I moved it, so it was next to my bed near the top end. One night I woke up to go to the toilet. I came back I forgot I had moved it and was convinced someone was stood next to my bed (it was pitch black) I was to scared to turn on my bedroom light, so I got into bed the opposite side. Then it must have been a dream this old creepy guy was in my face the light from the crack in the curtains lite up his face and I woke up and pulled the light on to see it was just my Teddy 🤣🤣🤣

17, what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

Green and yellow because the left handed scissors my friend used in school were those colours. Now it's purple has been since secondary school.

20, tell me what you think others think about you?

I'm a bit of a tit! I have been told I'm very cold hearted, but that's only after I had reached my limit of bs I took from this person.

Thanks for the ask lonely and sorry I posted before I had finished 💜

[sugawara-sweetheart]

helllo helooooo wonderful person!!! ok so this is the one with my fave hq ladies. could u do one with a f!reader and their first time getting a tattoo and the artist working on her is like super edgy and awesome. with kiyoko and alisa pls !! (and anyone else of your choosing hihi) - lov, ur goatman 💗

thank you for the requests my breast friend goatman💞it’s so fun writing for these beautiful ladies i hope i get more wlw requests!! i hope you enjoy this!

getting tattoos by edgy tattoo artist | kiyoko & alisa

shimizu kiyoko:

a tattoo was something you’d been interested in getting since you were young and when you finally could, you were thrilled to get it

but whilst you expected to be nervous of the needles at least, you didn’t expevct to be nervous because of the tattoo artist

you’d met her before for consultations on the sketch of your tattoo and you were a flustered, jittery mess over the beautiful woman

she was gorgeous, her grey eyes twinkling and her milky skin decorated with small beautiful tattoos- some japanese characters along her bicep, little crow silhouettes along her collarbones, some dainty hearts on the inside of her wrists and flowers along those beautiful long fingers

and the silver earrings that adorned her eyes and the flash of silver of her tongue piercing? so fucking awesome

you were captivated by her and it didn’t help that her sweet, soothing voice made you feel weak in the knees

so on the day of getting the tattoo, you’re fidgeting with anxiety on the black stretcher as kiyoko sets up the needles and inks

you don’t think she’d notice how your knee keeps bouncing and how your hands tremble so it’s surprising when she leaves the equipment and moves to stand in front of you, smiling gently

“you don’t have to be scared.” you’re stunned when she takes your clammy hands into her warm ones, stroking over the skin gently as you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach. “i know it’s your first time but it’ll be okay, i’ll go slow for you.”

true to her words, kiyoko starts off slowly and carefully, giving you reassuring smiles as she works the needle on your upper arm, breathing in tune with you

but she’s so close to you, your face is heating up and you’re getting jittery because she was already so beautiful but- holy fuck! she’s even better up close and she’s touching you and fuck fuck fuck-

you literally stop thinking when you feel those small latex-clad fingers stroke the underside arm of your arm, rubbing soothing circles

your eyes widen as you stare at kiyoko, her pretty eyes fluttering up to meet yours with a graceful smile adorning her beautiful face

“relax for me.” with her telling you in her soothing voice, how can you not?

once the tattoo is completed and she’s bandaging it up gently, you’re exhilarated with the adrenaline shooting through you, filling you with thoughtless courage

“you’re really beautiful and thank you so much for doing my tattoo, i love it so much and i like you and i’d take you on a date if-” you suddenly cut off with embarrassment, looking away sheepishly

but then kiyoko’s giggling and it’s such a beautiful giggle you can’t help but smile too even if your cheeks are burning

“i’d love to go on a date.” she says softly, reaching for a business card to scribble her number on. “call me.” she smiles, her warm fingers grazing yours as she hands you the small piece of card

alisa haiba:

your friends had decided on a whim that they wanted a tattoo and whilst it’s something you had always considered, you didn’t expect to be sat on the couch of a tattoo parlour browsing through pages of a portfolio to choose a tattoo design

your friends had already chosen theirs and were off behind curtains, the buzzing of tattoo guns audible

you’re nervous, not sure what to get when there’s footsteps and your eyes widen

you’re not sure if you’re terrified or in love when your eyes settle on the woman before you. she has strips of blue in her platinum blonde hair, silver across her entire ear lobe and her arms are painted in entire sleeves of vibrant tattoos

the way she’s staring at you so hardly makes your heart stop but then she grins and you think you’ve seen an actual angel, even with the silver flashes of her smiley piercing

“hi!” she beams cheerfully. “i’m alisa! wow, you’re pretty.” she gasps as she leans close to you, her wide green eyes lined with thick eyeliner and lashes raking over your features, making you visibly flustered. “aw, you’re so cute! i’m so happy i get to do your tattoo!”

you’re sheepish as you tell her you haven’t chosen one and this is your first time but alisa doesn’t mind

she leans over your shoulder, filling your nose with her sweet floral scent, as she picks out pretty sketches she thinks you’d like

and squeals with excitement when you finally choose one, settling to have it on your collarbone

as she’s setting up equipment, she chats along excitedly and breathlessly, asking you plenty of questions so that you don’t even have a chance to feel nervous

especially when you notice sometimes her questions will be bordering on a certain topic

“so you don’t have a s/o? i see.” she looks down to arrange the inks but you can see her smile

alisa smirks when she’s ready to start tattooing because she’s stood so close to you, she definitely flashes you a little wink

“ready, y/n? you’re going to look so good!”

she’s very gentle as she tattoos, her smile fading to a small frown of concentration, her little pink tongue dipping out as she works the tattoo needles on you

she asks you often if you’re okay, pausing even if it’s a small tattoo to ensure you’re okay and gives you encouraging smiles and praise that makes you heart flutter

“you’re doing so well for me, darling.” she grins cheekily when your cheeks heat up a bit too much at the nickname

she also probably puts on some music to help you relax, singing along with you and making you giggle when she goes slightly off-key that you’re grinning and having such a good time you’re forgetting about the pain across your collarbone

once it’s done, she barely places the bandage over it and grins just as wide as you do when you’re pleased with it

“i think it looks beautiful, just like you.” she giggles as you’re getting up to leave. she follows you out into the main bit of the parlour where you rejoin your friends

“when will you come for your next tattoo?” she asks, tilting her head as you laugh shyly

“i’m not sure yet.” alisa pouts before suddenly she’s grabbing a business card and scribbling her number down

“well, i cannot wait indefinitely to see you again so here,” you splutter, speechless, when she hands you her number with a wink. “see you soon, cutie. don’t keep waiting me too long.”

oh and trust me, with the way she had your heart beating so fast, she won’t be waiting for long at all

taglist: @akasuns | @miel-meraki | @mrs-kuroojinguji | @scorpiosanssexy | @aogirikeiji | @ceo-of-daichi | @atsvzai | @bunnykawa | @strawberriimilkshake | @karasu-hoes | @super-noya | @ohdearwhy3 | @epilepticdisco | @dearkags | @kac-chowsballs | @differentballooncollection | @wayward-stranger | @redflannel | @foulanimeaesthetickpoptaco | @bringmelily | @seijoh-loving-hours

* to be added to my taglist, please send me an ask | info about my taglist can be found via navigation page | if your tag doesn’t show please check your privacy settings

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 71 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Fun fact: this rewrite is now the second-longest fic in the Drace Race RPF section of AO3. (Second only to the original story, lol.) So if you’re looking for a lot of content…we’ve got you. ;) Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Violet revealed her estranged relationship with her family to Sutan, and Courtney struggled to live up to Miss Fame’s demands.

This Chapter: Some uncharacteristic vulnerability from Violet, Met Gala meetings and morning television.

***

“Do you want more marshmallows?”

“I always want more marshmallows.”

Katya grinned as she got up from the kitchen table, grabbing Trixie’s mug to top them both up. They were decorating gingerbread men, Katya pulling them from the oven last night. Trixie was doing clothes, drawing in the lines and putting details on them, one of his favorite jobs.

It was a tradition of theirs, spending the Sunday before Christmas in their pajamas, preparing cookies and watching Home Alone, the leftover icing always ending up in the bedroom for some sticky afternoon fun.

***

“Aaaand release...”

“Oh god,” Sutan groaned, rolling onto his back and spreading out like a starfish. “I’m dead.”

When he had jokingly asked if he could join Violet for her yoga session, he hadn’t figured she’d say yes, and he definitely hadn’t expected that it’d be this hard, those last few breaths of extended child’s pose essentially torture where he could feel his bones bend and creak.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Violet grinned, his girlfriend sitting back on her knee, the leg with her cast spread out to the side. “We only did 40 minutes.”

“You’re not even sweating.” Sutan looked at her, Violet’s hair in a high ponytail, the Sunday look of one of his shirts and a sports bra quickly becoming a fave.

“Some of us remember to do more than weights and cardio, Mr. Amrull.”

“I’m texting my trainer right now,” Sutan reached over his head, grabbing his phone that he had left on the floor next to their mats, Violet giggling as she laid down next to him, putting her head on his shoulder.

“There,” Sutan pressed send, his trainer probably falling off of his chair when he read the message, Sutan always attempting to get away with the bare minimum when it came to exercise, but he refused to be humiliated by being unable to reach his toes.

He was just about to put his phone down, when Violet reached up and tapped the screen, his front camera opening up, both of them in frame as they were lying on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture?” Violet smiled, her sarcastic tone never wavering. “To document the moment.”

Sutan looked at the screen. It was so incredibly tempting to say yes, to keep this moment in the private password protected collection that had steadily grown since Thanksgiving, Violet really and truly trying to let him take pictures, but he couldn’t say yes, not when he knew why she was so confident.

“And can I post it?”

“Post it?” Violet raised an eyebrow, sitting up on her elbows. “Why? Isn’t your hair...?”

“A mess?” Sutan didn’t want to smile, but it was impossible not to, Violet knowing him way too well if she had already figured out that he was sometimes embarrassingly vain about his hairstyle, the mess on his head looking like he had been fucking for an hour. “Yes, but I still want to post it.”

“I-” Violet had pulled away completely now, not a single trace of the sweetness left. “No.”

“Violet,” Sutan sat up as well, putting his phone down, “I know you hate social media, but you’re my girlfriend, and I don’t think what I ask for is unreasonable-”

“Sutan. Please” Violet grabbed her mat and rolled it together in an attempt to avoid him. “I said no.”

“And I’m pushing because I don’t understand.” Sutan could feel the annoyance build, the hurt and the rejection. It stung every single time Violet denied him, hurt every time she neglected what they had.

“I’m not saying we have to announce it with a workout selfie,” Sutan hated that they were fighting, but he couldn’t help himself, “but I want to tell the world that we’re together.”

“And I don’t-” Violet looked at him, her brown eyes filled with hurt. “If the world knows, they know, and I don’t want them to know where I am or what I’m doing.”

There it was. The they, the them, the family from Atlanta that was haunting his girlfriend's life like a shadow that had slowly started to creep into his too.

“Violet, I hate to be the one to tell you,” Sutan didn’t touch her, simply putting his hand down on the floor next to hers, telling her that he was there. “But the internet exists. If they have your name, they can find you, no matter what you do to hide.”

“Have you taken a moment to consider that they might not have that?”

Sutan paused, Violet’s words like a bomb.

“... What?”

Did her family not have her name? It was true that Violet Chachki barely got any hits on google, that it was Parson’s assignments and internships that popped up, the Galactica employee directory right at the top, but Sutan had never considered that possibility, had never even toyed with it.

“This wasn’t how I planned on telling you. Actually, I probably wasn’t counting on telling you at all, but I’m not…” Violet was fiddling with the tiniest hole in her yoga mat, her fingers tugging on the foam. “I wasn’t born Violet. Wasn’t even born a Chachki. Hasn’t it ever seemed weird to you that my last name literally means trinket?”

“It does?”

“Mmh,” Violet smiled, the same heavy sadness he had seen in the hospital in her eyes. “I needed to not be… Blair anymore.”

“Blair?”

“Yes,” Violet nodded. “Blair Dardo. It was my birth name. I never liked it, and I changed it the moment I turned 18, left it behind the second I could. That’s why I can’t,” Violet gestured vaguely to Sutan’s phone. “Changing it meant that they can’t, that they can’t find me, and I-”

Sutan didn’t know what to say, but it felt like he had just been given another puzzle piece in the mystery that was his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry.”

Violet’s head snapped to attention, her eyes widening in confusion. “...What?”

“I’m sorry.” Sutan said it again, making sure he put his genuine emotion behind the words. “I should have realized that you weren’t saying no to be difficult, and yet I kept pushing.”

“Sutan-” Violet still looked confused and a little suspicious, like she didn’t really understand what he was doing. “You don’t have to-”

“No but I do.” Sutan smiled. “I get it now, and I’m sorry, but next time you have a deep dark secret, maybe you could just tell me instead of this charade-”

Sutan was cut off as Violet threw herself in his arms, knocking him down on the floor and kissing him like her life depended on it, gratitude rolling off of her in waves.

***

“Raja?”

Alyssa held out the plate of croissants, Raja waving it away since she didn’t want one. The entire senior management team was gathered in the  conference room, Fame for some ungodly reason always insisting on a full breakfast spread for their Monday meetings, even though only a fraction of them ever actually ate any of it.

“So,” Fame looked around, a gold fountain pen in her hand, a black moleskin notebook open in front of her. “Any updates?”

The theme of today's meeting was the 2015 Met Gala, Raja barely hiding a groan when Courtney had sent out the meeting agenda.

It wasn’t that she disliked the Met Gala, the first Monday in May a spectacular party, but it was such a hassle getting there, the gala the fashion world's version of the Oscars.

“Yes,” Pearl smiled, turning around in her chair. She was weirdly chipper, her blonde hair collected in a clip, her signature leather jacket exchanged with a cropped black fur. “We have the final confirmation from Jessica Chastain’s team. She’s in.”

“Good,” Fame nodded, making a note in her moleskin, the fact that Fame was actually writing herself more than enough to cement the severity of the situation. Courtney was standing against the wall, Ivy sitting at the table with her computer open, typing away, but when it came to the Met, Fame left nothing up to chance.

“She’s looking forward to working with us, and she says she’s honored-”

“Yada yada yada,” Fame made a hand puppet, and Raja had to hide a smile, Pearl leaning back in her chair with a roll of her eyes, mouthing at everyone else that she’d send a follow up email.

It was Fame who had requested Jessica, in her own roundabout way, her friend casually mentioning to Raja that she had a good smile, which was more than enough for Raja to make Pearl offer her up as Galactica’s celebrity face.

It wasn’t every house who did it, but the big ones always had a celebrity at the gala, wearing their clothes and repping the brand.

“Does anyone know if they’ve moved away from the terrible theme yet?”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Alaska offered up, the promotional material the Met had sent out at the start of the fall in the middle of the table thanks to Ivy’s forthsight. “It’s December, and since we haven’t heard anything, they’re sticking with China's influence on western fashion.”

“Good god, I was really hoping they had come to their senses.” Fame breathed out through her nose, and Raja had to agree with her. Sure, ‘China: Through the Looking Glass’ made sense as an art exhibition, but there was really no way to convert it to fashion without being culturally insensitive at best and offensively appropriative at worst.

Besides, Galactica had never been a brand that sought inspiration from the east in their designs and aesthetics, which made the entire situation quite the predicament.

“I’m sure we can work with it,” Trixie gave a small smile, the stack of papers by his elbow indicating that he had probably already put his senior designers to work coming up with concepts.

“And how,” Fame turned, looking directly at Trixie. “Are we supposed to work with it? Raja’s the only one who could possibly get away with being theme appropriate.”

Usually, Fame and Raja were the ones who walked the carpet together with their celebrity, Fame a nervous wreck for weeks before the gala because of all the strangers, while Raja enjoyed it because of her modeling days, seeing old acquaintances without the stresses of fashion week, a delightful yearly treat.

“I’m Indonesian.” Raja knew Fame didn’t mean anything by it, and she wasn’t that concerned about being politically correct herself, but everyone knew what it could mean for a fashion house to misstep, Dolce and Gabbana somehow walking directly from one scandal and into another one. “Not Chinese.”

“See?” Fame sighed, leaning back in her chair. “It’s a controversial time bomb. Either, we stay on theme, which I refuse since I look terrible in Chinese red, ”

“So we’re going off theme?” Trixie had picked up his papers, sorting through them, and Raja felt a moment of gratitude for their head of design, Trixie of course coming prepared with off-theme suggestions as well.

“Unless they get a grip and change it? Yes. Yes we are.”

*

“There!” Everyone held their breath as Maxwell pointed at Violet’s screen, an email from Ivy just ticking in, the Met Gala meeting still in full swing.

“Open it, Chachki!” Blu was practically biting her nails, hopping from one foot to the other, her red hair in a braid over her shoulder.

“Alright, alright-“ Violet clicked on the email, Bob standing right behind her, his eyes flying over the screen before he called out.

“It’s Jessica!”

A collective sigh of relief went through the floor, a loud ‘yes’ coming from Kiara who was clapping her hands together, the group breaking up, chatter filling the air.

“Thank god,” Maxwell groaned, putting a hand on Violet’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “I knew having you here would be worth it Chachki.”

“Right.” Violet raised an eyebrow, looking up at him, clearly not understanding why no one had thought to simply ask Ivy for updates before, the suggestion just casually slipping from her during morning coffee, the entire department running with it instantly. “But I still don’t-“

“Get it?” They turned to look over at Jovan who was sitting at his own desk, the man one of the few who hadn’t gathered around Violet’s computer.

“Yes.” Violet nodded. “If you needed information all this time, you could have just asked-”

“Like we could have just asked you?” Bob said, cutting her off and Violet opened her mouth, only to close it again. “Exactly.” Bob grinned. “You would have told us to fuck off.”

“I see your point.” Violet tapped her fingers on her desk, a small smile on her lips since everyone knew she would have said those exact words directly to their faces when she had been in Fame’s front office. “But, why is it such a big deal if a celeb is confirmed or not? The gala isn’t until May, that’s 4 months away and it’s three outfits. A whole collection is usually done in that time.”

“A collection doesn’t have to be approved by the celebrity,” Maxwell counted on his fingers, “the celebrity’s stylist, Vogue and Anna Wintour personally on top of Trixie, Raja and Fame. Alexis usually starts producing concepts in October.”

“As soon as they reveal the theme girl!” Alexis yelled over her shoulder, already pulling her sketches from their shelf, the confirmation meaning that she’d be in a meeting with Trixie for the rest of the day, working out the details of the first round of negotiations with the celebrity.

“Huh…” Violet looked around, the puzzled expression still on her face. “And what about-“

“Fame and Raja?”

Violet nodded.

“You’d think Fame would be the difficult one-“ Maxwell smiled.

“But make something gorgeous and custom in ivory and she’s on board,” Jovan grinned, putting the pen he was using behind his ear as he turned around in his chair. “Every year, she pretends like she’ll follow the theme, and then never does.”

“Exactly.” Maxwell nodded. “Fame is demanding, but consistent. Trixie has an entire drawer of Fame-appropriate outfits that we all contribute to whenever we have an idea.”

“That makes a disturbing amount of sense,” Violet looked mildly impressed, and if any of the rumors Maxwell had heard about how she had managed Fame’s front office, that approach wasn’t too far off from how Violet herself had attempted to tame the beast.

“Rule one of surviving at Galactica: Never disappoint Miss Fame. For once, however, Fame isn’t the problem.” Maxwell sighed, taking a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk. “Raja is.”

“Raja?” Violet looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Yes really.” Maxwell crossed his arms. “Every year, she tells us that she’s chill, that she’ll wear whatever goes with the spring collection or the theme-“

“And every single year, she changes her mind at least four times.” Bob chimed in, the drama loving smirks on his lip. “More if you’re lucky.”

“Which is why,” Maxwell nudged Bob’s side with his elbow. “We’ve unanimously decided that you have the honor of dressing Raja for this year's Met Gala.”

“Me?” Violet’s eyes widened. “What? Why?” Violet looked at them, confusion painted on her face. “I’m the most junior member of staff.”

“True, but you’re also sucking her brother's dick,” Maxwell grinned, “so we figured she can’t kill you during the process, unlike the rest of us mere mortals.”

***

It should have been one of the most exciting mornings since Courtney started at Galactica--Miss Fame and Raja were being interviewed on a talk show, and so she got to go to the famous 30 Rockefeller Plaza building, and be on the set of a real television show. Unfortunately, it was such a whirlwind of activity and Miss Fame was in such a demanding mood that she didn’t have a second to enjoy it.

She felt like a chicken with its head cut off, running around in a hectic scramble to meet every request. Today was the last day before their holiday break, and even though Courtney knew that spending her break with Bianca would be incredible, she also knew that she had about a billion things to do before that could even start. Today was supposed to be a half day, but with how packed the schedule was, she’d be lucky to leave by 5.

She entered Miss Fame’s green room, silently handing her the coffee she’d asked for and then leaning on the wall to catch her breath. Miss Fame took a sip and then immediately spit the coffee back out.

“What is this?” she asked, holding the cup out like it was a bag of dog shit.

“It’s your usual-”

“This is not my usual. This is weak, and not hot enough, and-did you just roll your eyes?”

“No, Miss!” Courtney insisted, praying that she was telling the truth. She was tired, having arrived at the office at 6 am to drop off her stuff for Bianca’s, and there was a teeny tiny chance that she may have (accidentally) rolled her eyes. “Would you like a new-”

“Let me tell you something, Courtney. This may be the last day before a vacation, but I expect you to be fully present and accounted for. We have too many important things going on and I will not accept anything less than your absolute very best. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Now. Please go find me some decent coffee before I get a migraine.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“And after you come back, I need you to go to the dry cleaners. I’ve decided to wear my ivory Valentino suit to meet the investors later.”

“Yes, Miss, will do.”

“That’s all,” Miss Fame said, waving her hand, and Courtney took off back down the labyrinthine hallways of 30 Rock to hunt down a coffee that would meet her standards.

***

“Good morning! Welcome back to Coast to Coast. I’m Nina West, and today we are positively blessed to have with us the icons of fashion, Miss Fame and Raja Gemini of Galactica, here to talk to us about dressing to impress in the new year, and their exciting new business ventures. Thank you so much for being here, ladies!”

“Thank you, we’re thrilled to be here,” Fame smiled, the lie easily falling out of her red painted lips.

Raja could see the way her hands were clenched in her lap, her wedding ring turned inward and digging into her palm, and knew that she was at her tensest.

Raja had long ago gotten used to giving live interviews. She had a laid-back attitude and while she always wanted to represent the company in the most flattering light, she tended to relax and let the conversation flow naturally.

Fame, however, had never quite gotten the hang of it in the same way. She was just so brand-conscious, almost to a debilitating degree, written interviews so much more her speed.

She always looked impeccable, very much the ice goddess she was so often called, but Fame had never gotten the same confidence in her speaking skills as Raja, who had been dragged through developing them in her modeling career.

Even though Fame hated being on live TV, they occasionally got an offer they couldn’t turn down, and between the makeup line being released in January and the overhaul of their website and online store, they had a lot to plug.

The whole thing was so stressful Fame had asked Raja four times to check her pits for sweat stains, her papers with facts from the makeup department and pointers from Pearl not leaving her hand until they literally had to go on.

Raja leaned forward, giving Fame’s shoulder a reassuring pat, and added, “This is our favorite show, we never miss it!”

“Aww, thank you!” said Nina, grinning. “Now, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you have an exciting announcement.”

“Yes, and we’re so happy to be able to share the news with your viewers first-”

“An exclusive!” Nina exclaimed, eyes comically wide and mouth open as if this was news to her.

“Yes, exactly. Early this year, we released a limited makeup line, and it’s been doing just wonderfully. So in 2015, we’re going to be rolling out a full line of makeup and skincare, with special edition palettes and colors all throughout the spring.”

“All natural, vegan, cruelty free...I always want the very best for my own skin and I wouldn’t offer our customers anything less,” Fame cut in, and Raja felt a surge of pride at how natural she sounded. All their rehearsing had clearly paid off.

“If you use it, I’ll use it!” Nina said with a chuckle. “You both have the most gorgeous skin I’ve ever seen.”

“We expect the first batch to sell out quickly,” Raja said, “So go straight to our website, Galactica dot com, and sign up to be part of the mailing list to receive alerts on all new product launches and where they’ll show up in stores.”

“I’m doing that, the second we go to commercials,” Nina said. “But first, I heard that there’s more news about your spring line...”

***

Patrick reached for the remote, turning off the TV as Nina West rounded out the segment with Fame and Raja.

He was sitting in his office, wrapping up the last details before the firm could close down for the holiday break.

Fame had done a great job, the nerves he knew she had felt not showing on her beautiful face. Patrick picked up his phone, a smile on his lips as he started to type out a text.

Fame would probably not read it until she left work for the day, but he was proud of her, and he hoped that she was proud of herself too.

***

Fame collapsed onto her dressing room sofa, completely emotionally drained, the crystals she had stuffed in her bra digging against her skin.

Being on camera for live television always took up every drop of energy, and left her with nothing to spare. Unfortunately, she knew that she didn’t have much time to rest, since she was due at the Russian Tea Room to meet her potential investors in less than an hour. The makeup artist they’d hired was standing by for touch-ups, and her ivory Valentino suit hung in its dry cleaning bag on the clothing rack. But first, she knew that her blood sugar was dangerously low, so she needed…

She looked around. Where on earth was Courtney? Fame had never met someone with such a tendency to be underfoot at the worst times and completely MIA when her presence was required. She walked to the doorway, spotting Courtney having a casual chat with a girl in a headset, carefree as anything.

“Courtney!” she snapped, and Courtney looked up, surprised, even though she was literally here for the sole purpose of taking care of Fame’s needs. “Come!”

Fame turned and walked back into her dressing room, irritated, the rapid click of Courtney’s heels as she ran over grating on her nerves.

“Yes, Miss?”

“I need to eat.”

“Oh…” Courtney’s gaze shifted to the table, where a fruit basket sat amongst assorted pastries and other snack food.

“Not that sugary garbage,” Fame explained. “Violet always had- Don’t you have any protein bars?”

“Oh, of course!” Courtney exclaimed, rummaging through her purse.

Fame rolled her eyes, sighing. That girl truly was useless. What Bianca saw in her, Fame would never understand. She took one of the protein bars that Courtney had carefully lined up on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“I think you’d better head back to the office and prepare the conference room for the investor presentation.”

“Oh, but did you need anything el-”

“No, I’m much more concerned with the meeting,” Fame said. “Everything needs to be perfect. These people will be paying attention to every little detail.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Oh, and take this back with you…” Fame handed over a large manila envelope. “It’s some sketches I’ve been working on.”

“Sure.” Courtney began to put the envelope into her bag, and Fame’s eyes widened with alarm.

“Don’t bend them! For god’s sake…”

“Sorry Miss,” Courtney said, biting her lip, holding the envelope at her side. “Is there anything else you need before I-”

“No. That’s all.”

***

Courtney sat in the back of a cab, eyes squeezed tightly shut, using the time in traffic to center herself and go over her massive to do list. She had to make sure that all the presentations for the meeting were set up, work with IT to test it, messenger out the holiday gifts that Miss Fame added at the last minute, make sure the schedule for January was in order, set up her out of office reply…

Plus, the meeting with the investors wouldn’t begin until they were back from the restaurant, so the “half day” was looking more and more like a full day. At this point, settling in at Bianca’s felt like it was a million years away--and traffic crawling at a standstill didn’t help anything.

She pulled out her phone. Maybe she could set up some of the gift deliveries now, while she was stuck in the cab.

When they were finally in sight of the Galactica building, her phone started buzzing. She looked at the screen. Miss Fame. That couldn’t be anything good.

Courtney took a deep breath and answered, stomach tightening.

“Hello?”

“Courtney!” Miss Fame’s voice was sharp, sharper than usual. “Do you ever use your head? Or do you just go through life without a shred of critical thinking?”

It was fairly obvious that it was a rhetorical question, so Courtney kept her mouth shut, wondering what had gone wrong, what mess she’d have to clean up now.

[refriedweeb]

LET ME SANCTIFY YOUR BODY (SHINSOU + PLUS SIZED READER 18+)

A/N: refriedweeb here my little chickadees. Here’s another plus size reader one for all my beautiful thick babes out there. I’ve started hardcore sipping over everyone’s fave emo boy (who I always thought would prefer a thicker girl bc it just screams at you he would be) not responsible for any emotional trauma caused. ALSO, I used the same quirk from the Hawks’ series I have going on don’t judge me it’s honestly my favorite quirk I’ve thought up (and totally not bc I'm self-inserting) also if anyone draws y/n/me/yourself in this hero costume y/n chooses I'd die bc I think it’s so incredible

Prompt: Your hero agency has been pressuring you into a more scant, sexually appealing hero costume. Though you’re a hero, you’re still coming to accept your body and feel that the new costume they’ve put you in is anything but. Your boyfriend has other thoughts.

Tags/Warnings: body worship, oral, sex, spanking, shinsou being an absolute god

Word Count: 6,009

You stared at yourself in the reflection of the mirror in your bedroom. It’d been a long, exhausting past couple of weeks between you and the hero agency you worked for. They were insistent on changing up your hero costume, eager to add some sex appeal and tighter material around the assets that made you such a ‘feast’ as they called it. You were fuller figured, plump in spots that other female heroes weren’t. Your curves had caught the eye of the media surrounding the hero discourse, and you’d become something of a source of body positivity for the public. It wasn’t about your health, rather, but that strength and power came at any size, and a hero didn’t need to look like the heroes of the past in order to do good and be worthy of everything you had in your life. At first you’d been a little skeptical, sure that the other shoe was going to drop and you were going to be shunned for the tummy you had, the thickness of thighs that made you look ‘more beautiful than Venus being born’ according to one of the magazines that had commented on your body. 

However, you hadn’t seen anything wrong with the hero costume you’d been rocking prior to the media’s public obsession with you. It hid the insecurities that you wished to conceal, like that very tummy so many people had started to praise. The dimples in your thighs that showed through in the latex and skin tight material that made up so much of hero costumes. Many designers of said hero costumes had been scrambling to get their designs to your hero agency, practically groveling for you to pick theirs. You’d left that day after your seemingly endless patrol (thankful that nothing out of the ordinary outside of small, petty crimes) had come to an end. But...that didn’t mean the work was over just yet. The agency you worked in had been persistent that you needed to pick a new costume by the end of the week, and it was already Thursday. 

Your eyes moved from the mirror to the laid out costumes on the bed. The hero alias you went by was that of Nightmare. Your quirk was an Emitter quirk, and worked in a way that many people had been careful to get within your reach of. Once you activated your quirk, you could raise your target’s worst nightmare into a warped physical reality around them, or at least they perceived it to be a physical reality. What it really was, was a field of false reality with layers so thick it was hard to look through in order to see that it wasn’t real at all. A hallucination of the worst kind. You, much like your boyfriend Shinsou, had been people that your fellow classmates had thought would be best as villains, rather than heroes. People didn’t trust you, didn’t want to get to close to you lest you reach out a hand to their forehead and bring forth their own personal hell. 

They wanted to make someone they had once demanded be too dangerous to be a trustworthy hero into a sex symbol. The fleeting thought caused you to snort, your eyes moving back over the costume layout once more. Shinsou hadn't popped around to yours yet, likely still finishing out his own patrol. His opinions might have helped, but you weren’t sure when he’d get to yours and you’d rather get the uncomfortable trial and error of why your body didn’t look right in any of the costumes that had been sent to you over with. That way you could curl up in bed under the sheets and wait for Shinsou’s warm embrace. It’d always managed to make you feel better when you were sure the world hated everything about you. That very reason had been one of the reasons you and Shinsou had bonded so quickly. The world was determined to make you a villain before you’d even had a chance to prove them otherwise. You were each other’s biggest support system, the team cheerleader while you raced to make the world a better place. 

What would Nightmare wear? What would the unstoppable, dangerous Nightmare wear? The first costume was definitely not your speed, a deep plum color that was beautiful on its own. Yet, it was cut deep in the back with a half-peplum tiered skirt at the back of your waist. To you, it made you feel like a joke of a circus ring leader, feeling more like an overripe raspberry than a hero worth going toe to toe with. You didn’t have a body like Midnight or Mt. Lady. You were fuller all around, a pooch of a stomach that stuck out more than theirs, thighs that were thicker in muscle and fat then theirs. An ass, that as Shinsou had once said when he was drunk on sake, wouldn’t quit. Once again, you didn’t see anything wrong with the hero costume you had now. It was baggier, yes, allowing you to obscure a body you hadn’t fully come to terms with despite the years of progress you’d made with self-acceptance. Sure, the trench jacket did nothing to show off much of the body you’d worked hard to maintain and love, but it hadn’t been about how good you looked. It’d been about being able to do good and save people from villains. If you’d wanted to be judged for your looks, you would have signed up to be a model. But hero politics were the same politics that existed in every aspect of reality, and you had gotten used to it. It was really only a matter of time that you’d be up next in the line of speculation. The first costume was a hard no, and you peeled yourself out of it already feeling the sinking feeling of defeat as it crawled up into your spine. 

The second costume was better in some aspects, worse in others. It was black in color which was much more your speed, with a black mask to match that shielded the top half of your face. Yet, over your bust and over the widest part of your hips ran horizontal white lines, giving the effect of making them appear wider than they were. It wasn’t as if they just ran the front of the costume, either. Traced around your back and your butt, you only felt that sinking feeling grow. You looked wrong, and felt worse. There was no way people actually thought this was going to look good on you, did they? An annoyed sigh passed through your nose, doing one last turn around in the mirror confirmed your thoughts. These people had no idea what would look good on you. The cynical part of you was sure that this was the other shoe dropping. This was some grand joke that you were the punch line of. If you picked any of these costumes you’d be ridiculed for your body just like you’d been when you were a kid. That mere thought sparked tears in your eyes, but you pushed them down. There was one costume left. Though you didn’t have much hope for it. 

You were so in your negative thoughts at the moment as you stripped down from the second costume, you hadn’t heard the front door of your place open and close. Nor the sound of shoes being kicked off. 

The third costume was by far the most aesthetically pleasing to your tastes. Like Goldilocks and the three bears, it’d been the one you thought would be best. It was a one piece jumpsuit as the rest had been, cut deep in the front and back, low plunges that exposed everything to your naval in the front, and the small curve of your lower back. Though where freshly exposed skin would have been free, black mesh was laid overtop to give the graft appearance. There were winding slits down the long sleeves of the costume, making the mesh look like ropes winding down the length of strong arms and deliciously thick thighs. The mesh at the lower back connected to the beginnings of the mesh at the back of your thighs, lining up with the mesh that curved down from your naval and over your hips to meet up with the front mesh of your thighs. The mesh of the costume was one continuous running line, and you had to admit you liked how it shaped your body. It was tight as the other costumes, and certainly left nothing to the imagination of anyone who’d see you. If you picked this costume, everyone would know what it was you were working with. And that was what they wanted, right? The final costume was by far your favorite, opening and closing the fingerless gloves that had come with it. But were you okay with the world seeing the rest of your body? You didn’t think you were ugly by any means, and hadn’t felt ugly since you were a teenager. But...that didn’t mean the world wouldn’t take that chance to pick you apart if they thought you’d gotten too confident. 

You leaned up on your toes, angling to this way and that so you could get a full view of how you’d be seen from all angles. Your hand rolled over the little pooch of your belly, over the curve of your backside into that meshed lower back of the costume. The way your thighs blossomed against the costume, looking strong as hell. In the platformed boots you wore to do hero work, it’d look good. You thought. But was it too risky? Would you look like a joke? Your shoulders sagged in defeat, not sure you had the confidence to pull this off like the world seemed to think you did.

“Well, well...” came that deep drawl of the man you cared so deeply for. You jumped, completely unaware that for the last five minutes you’d been examining yourself in the mirror, that Shinsou had been eyeing you up from his position. Leaned against the frame of the door, hands tucked into his pockets with a shameless look on his face. “These those new hero costumes you were talking about?”

Once you were sure you wouldn’t about faint from the racing of your heart, you nodded. “Yeah, they weren’t that great,” you said and jutted your chin to the ones you’d hung back up on their hangers to be sent back. “Those were the first two options, and they looked...gross on me.” you said, voice dropping as the negative term against yourself left your throat. Shinsou angled a brow upwards question, violet eyes moving over to look at them. He doubted that they looked bad on you, almost disappointed he hadn’t gotten to see your skin slip under that tight material, the way it ran so flush over that body of yours he’d worshipped for so long. For all Shinsou cared, you could be running around in a trash bag and he’d find a way to think you were the most beautiful person in the world. But, one thought he shared in common with you on the first two hero costumes, was that they didn’t speak Nightmare. Your quirk was exceptional, like his in a way. It needed something as equally daring, as enticing as you were.

“I doubt that...” Shinsou strolled over to look at them, running the fabric of the raspberry suit between thumb and forefinger. “But they’re not you. They’re too tame for you.” the comment was innocent enough, but your mouth dried up at it. Sunken eyes moved over to look at you once more in that black suit number, one that he found himself to be a growing fan of. “What about that one?” His expression was hungry as he dragged his gaze up and down your body, over the curves showed off so freely.

Shinsou had never had an issue with your body. Rather, he preferred a partner that was on the thicker side to begin with. He liked being able to feel you in his hands without worry about hurting you too much. Your skin was a comfort to him, the way you were soft and plush drove him up a fucking wall. He might not have been the biggest fan of public affection, but when it was just the two of you he couldn’t keep his greedy hands off you. And how could he? Even in that moment, his fingers twitched with the carnal need to have your flesh under the pads of his fingers. 

“It’s definitely the best of the bunch.” You shrugged, hand running down the shape of your belly once more, your mind still stuck on whether or not it was going to get you ridiculed. “I just don’t...I think it’s too much. I don’t think...” you trailed off. “I don’t know if I look good in it.”

The sound of a snort from behind you had you meeting Shinsou’s gaze through the mirror. He wore an incredulous expression as if you’d just claimed that there was no such thing as gravity. He shook his head and approached you slowly. “You’re kidding, right?” Shinsou stood behind you, his chin resting on the top of your head. His body was pressed flush against yours, and you could feel the half-hard length of him pressed against your backside. “You don’t think you look amazing in this, (Y/N)?”

A blush hit your cheeks as his hands rested on your shoulders. “It’s not that, Shi. I just don’t...I guess...I don’t think people will want to see me like this. So...exposed.” Being sexy wasn’t the problem here. It was how others would see you and if they’d take the same thought away that the agency had, that Shinsou had, that some of the media had about you. You could take being ridiculed for your ability to act as an hero, if you messed up on the job or anything like that. Those criticisms pertained to your ability to help and change the world, and nothing to do with your physical appearance. Changing your hero costume would open up that path to criticisms about your appearance that had never been there before. 

“Ah...so that’s it.” Without having to say much, Shinsou understood where your mindset was. He sighed, feeling somewhat guilty. Had he not shown you how beautiful you were each time he settled his mouth or his cock between your thighs? Had he not told you how you were the only person who was ever going to have his eye whether you were dolled up in a face full of makeup or drooling while you slept? The last thing he wanted for you to feel about yourself was inadequate because of how much you weighed or what your body looked like. He knew it wasn’t for him to decide, that only you could determine your self-worth, but you were perfect for him. And if he was selfless enough to let the world see you how he saw you, he would in a heartbeat. But just because he wanted the world to see it, didn’t mean he was a fan of sharing. Timidly, you met his indigo gaze through the mirror’s reflection. “Here’s what I think, kitten.”

A chill ran down your spine as his fingers started to ghost over your shoulders. “I think...” He slowed his movements,  tracing the seam where mesh met spandex, Shinsou’s eyes narrowed as they followed where his fingers met. They ended at the inner point of the V that formed the front of a potentially new costume. Goosebumps erupted over your skin wherever his fingers trailed, and all you could do was watch in the mirror as his head came to rest on your shoulder, doing the same. “This looks downright sinful...” his fingers moved back up the V of the spandex material, only to pause as his fingers cupped the fullness of your breasts, thumbs whispering over piqued nipples. He hovered there for a moment, tracing circles around them as you shivered against the well defined muscle of his chest. “Not a thing left to the imagination...” Shinsou murmured, taking as his hands swept over the top of your chest to your shoulders, slowly down your arms. The winding tightness between your thighs had started, and he’d only been gentle with you so far. His thumbs moved along your inner forearm, traced circles along the sensitive part of your inner wrist before they flowed back up the length of your arms, returning to your breasts where he pulled and teased once more. “You’re telling me I might have to share this with the public...”

Shinsou’s eyes, a beautiful shade of setting sun, were narrowed as his hands traveled down the mesh material of your stomach once more. His fingers spread as he traced your belly, fingers bent just slightly so you felt the drag of his fingertips through the material of the suit. It was just a prototype, after all. The real work effectiveness of the suit would be put in place if you agreed to have it. At the sensation of his nails scratching along your stomach, your thighs turned inwards, backside pressing in against a growing erection. It only caused Shinsou to smile that smarmy smirk that had caught your attention all those years ago at UA. “You’re telling me everyone’s going to get to see this goddess body I get to claim night after night...” Shinsou continued, pulling the soft pudge of your skin in his hands as he raked them to the side to grip your hips. Those fucking hips. His fingers dug in sharper there, knowing your skin could handle it. So full, so fucking lush. “Hell, kitty, you might just raise the crime rate because everyone wants to see you in this costume...” He released his iron grip on your hips, hands sweeping towards your backside to grab at the bountiful ass you had. How it drove him up a fucking wall to see how it bounced against his hips when he took you from behind. “You have no idea...” Shinsou paused to pull up the legs of his pants before he squatted down to his knees, his hands still on your ass.

“How fucking good you look in this...” You were speechless as he continued to knead at your ass, giving that plump backside of yours a soft slap that sounded through the room. He worshipped your body day in and day out, and had simply no problem letting you know how much he loved every square inch of it. Shinsou let out a low hum. His hands continued their march, coming to cup the lower part of your ass in his hands. He was greedy when it came to this, the best fucking handful and then some any god could have given him. “Your ass looks so fucking good...” he whispered, side of his face nuzzled up against the curve of your thigh. One hand slipped from the grip it has on your backside, slipping between your thighs. An idle thumb swept through your lips, so thick and full that when he ate you out he simply rested his head there. A sharp gasp escaped you, rolling into the touch that ended before it’d even begin. This didn’t go unnoticed by Shinsou, that devilish smile there once more. “And these fucking thighs...” he whispered, his second hand repeated that sinful sweeping motion between your legs, his hands gripping your inner thighs, slowing pulling them apart. All the while, you watched through the mirror, his eyes zeroed in on the puffy mound of your pussy that seemed particularly swollen in that jumpsuit. “These fucking thighs that I love to have wrapped around my head...” Shinsou turned in so his nose was pressed against your left thigh, his teeth soon enough caught the material of the jumpsuit between them and pulled it back from your supple skin. A moment later, a sharp snap hit the air as it slapped back against your skin, causing you to squirm. “You’re telling me the world is gonna know how fucking delicious these thighs are...”

He wasn’t the jealous sort, Shinsou. He knew that you wouldn’t be with him if you didn’t want to be. That you came home to every night because you wanted to. In that sense he was secure in his relationship with you. But he wanted to make it astoundingly clear to you just how beautiful your body was, and how everyone else in the world who had their head screwed on tight enough was going to see it too. He was hungry to devour you in that suit right there, to fuck you and mark you so greedily so that the world would know his mark on you, but this wasn’t about him or his selfish wants. This was about making you feel like the strongest, sexiest, most powerful woman on the entire earth. And based off the heat he was feeling so close to his hands that gripped your thighs, his mission was working. He hummed, digging his fingers into your skin. “I could spend hours on your skin, kitten.” he murmured, his nose inching up the length of your thigh to where it curved, the crease of hip into thigh his goal. “Kissing it all over, tasting all of you...” you squirmed as Shinsou shifted on the ground slightly, so that he knelt in front of you. The sight of him looking up at you, sunken eyes dark with lust, made your waver on your knees. It was next to holy imagery, his legs spread wide, hands gripping your thighs for purchase as if he didn’t, he’d disappear entirely. “You gonna let me taste you, kitten?”

Shinsou didn’t wait for your answer, moving on his own agenda. He leaned forward into that sweet, tantalizing mound of yours. His nose burrowed in, hands moving up to grip your hips as he pulled you in against him. The flat of his tongue slipped over the clothed length of your cunt, warmth radiating against the sweetness of your pussy as he pulled your thighs apart for him. You moaned out his name, the action he took so simple but enough to threaten you over the cliff. Shinsou had only touched you, slow and measured at that, and this was the first he’d put a hand or tongue where you needed him most. The fabric that had been between your legs was in his mouth, Shinsou sucking on the fabric there to get as much of you in his mouth that had already escaped you while he’d been busy touching you. The fabric fell from his mouth when he was done, slapping against your heat and causing you to jolt forward. Your fingers found themselves wound through the thick tendrils of indigo hair, balancing as he smiled up at you with his head tipped to the side. The look was downright bastardly, and you tugged on his hair. “Don’t tease me,” you said, breathless.

“No teasing here, baby...” Shinsou breathed, pausing to blow hot air against your sex. “I want to make my girl feel good,” while he spoke, he stroked his middle and index finger up and down the slit of your cunt, pushing in slightly so the fabric dipped in your glaze. “I want to make you feel good about this fucking body I intend to destroy...” He sounded so bored as he played with your pussy that it only drove you crazier. You knew from the bulge in his pants that he was far from bored, but how nonchalant he could be while he was winding that coil of an orgasm tighter and tighter inside of you could have pushed you over the edge. “I want to take my time getting you there...”

You mewled, rocking against his fingers as they slipped back and forth, agonizingly slow in their rhythm. Shinsou had never been a fan of when you doubted yourself or your abilities, your worth and your beauty. This wasn’t exactly what he would have called a punishment, rather a reminder that there wasn’t a single part of you that he would want to change about you, and that you should have felt the same. He worshipped you, every second of every day. Frankly, in his eyes, there wasn’t enough hours in the day to give thanks to whatever deities were out there that created the fucking perfect version of yourself that was stood over him currently. “Sit on my face, kitten.” he drawled, eyes raking upwards over those delicious curves of your body, the thickness of your skin so plump, until he was looking into your eyes. “Let me taste you.”

With the way he’s looking at you, you know you don’t stand a chance of saying no. “Yes,” you rasped out, Shinsou’s hands soothing you as they smoothed up and down your thighs. You took a step back from him, Shinsou staying where he was, frozen as he watched you pull down the suit.

 It was like a work of art, his cock hardening as you pulled the front of it down, exposing your mounds of flesh, nipples piqued and flushed from when he’d been teasing them earlier. As the black material folded over your arms, exposing soft skin he ached to get his hands on. Down over your midsection, exposing the little roll over your belly that had his mouth watering. “You look so fucking beautiful,” his voice had hollowed out, thick with need to have your thighs practically suffocating him. He watched the blush deepen on your cheeks, only serving to make him grow harder. His eyes snapped back as the skintight material rolled over your hips and his cock twitched. The way your skin pushed out, full and so fucking desirable from the spandex material sent him over the edge. And then there it was. That glistening pussy with the softest patch of hair extending up towards your naval, a landing strip you’d called it once. Shinsou couldn’t help himself as he reached up to his mouth and ran his index finger over the swell of his bottom lip. He could see how wet you were already from the teasing he’d put you through, how your glaze seeped onto the thighs you’d pushed together. He was motionless as you slowly rolled the jumpsuit the rest of the way, over the curve of thighs into calves, finally at those fucking ankles he rather enjoyed having up by his face when he drove into you like a man starved for your fluids. 

“You look so fucking tasty, kitten.” he whispered, settled onto his back. Not once had his eyes left yours. “Let me have you, please.” The please and desperation in his voice caused you to squeeze your thighs together again, and he moaned. But you indulged him once he’d taken his shirt off, your eyes directly tracing the spattering of indigo chest hair that lead a thin trail to his naval, the patch at his waist thickening as it disappeared below his pants. Slowly, you lowered yourself until you were sat on his chest. The slickness that spread on his chest from your cunt caused Shinsou to moan as his hands wrapped around your thighs once more, spreading you so he was face to face with that precious cunt he called his. “Gonna make you feel real good, baby.” he said and pulled you forward so that your thighs were pressed in against either side of his head. When he spoke next, the breath he exhaled was right against your heat. “The world’s prettiest cunt, all mine...” Shinsou’s chuckle had you fisting your hands. “One thing I won’t share...”

And then he dived in, having dessert before he’d even had dinner. He’d been aching to get his mouth on your cunt since he’d seen that swollen mound of the hero suit you’d tried on. Now that he had it, he was going to ravage you until you were begging him to stop. His nose pressed in against your mouth, hands spreading your legs further as he lapped noisily against your wet pussy. You were so wet for him already, his tongue lapping up those juices only spurred you to drip more. He was always sloppy when he ate you out, simply because Shinsou wanted to have as much of you on him as possible. You tasted like honey, like a lazy Sunday morning, like the feeling of victory. He slurped and suckled, his teeth grazing over your clit as you found the rhythm of his tongue and started rocking against him. Soon enough the sounds that filled your bedroom were the wet, sloppy noises of Shinsou eating you out, and you whispering his name like a prayer as he suckled on your clit with feral need. His face was slick with your silk glaze, running down his chin and onto his neck, the floor underneath him. But frankly, he didn’t give a fuck. Your thighs had done what he’d hoped they would, squeezing and flexing against his head as he played with and teased your clit. Shinsou could hardly breathe, but if this was how he was supposed to go, he certainly didn’t mind. 

He’d started to flick and circle, traced his tongue around your bundle of nerves faster, and you started to ride his face harder. It was a chase to your orgasm, and just before you reached that finish line, he stopped. A desperate whine escaped you, writhing in an attempt to get back on his tongue and finish out your eye. Except, Shinsou was hiking one leg over his shoulder so that you were off his chest entirely. You whined once more, your core throbbing at how wet his face was. “You taste like fucking heaven...” he groaned as he wiped his fingers over his face, coating his hand in all your silk. Then, he undid the button of his pants, the zipper. And as you adjusted yourself with legs spread, you saw the brilliant pink tip of his cock, dripping pre-cum as he sprung free. You whimpered, desperate to be full once more and to reach your orgasm. Shinsou eyed you up, taking the wetness of your slick from his face in his hand and pumping himself as he came to rest between your thighs once more. 

“I want to cum,” you groaned as you reached out, fingers ghosting through the curls of the violet hair around the base of his cock. Shinsou pried your fingers away, returning it to where it’d been beside your head.

“I’m gonna let you, kitten.” he said, as he continued to coat himself in your silken drip. First, he wanted to take a mental picture of how fucking good you looked on the floor. Hair fanned out around your head, your cheeks flushed, eyes blown wide with lust. The rapid rise and fall of your chest, your divine breasts moving with each movement. On your back, you were subject to his mercy. The only plan Shinsou had was to make you cum, to make you realize how fucking incredible you were. “You feel good for me?” he asked as he pulled you close to him by the legs, leaning over so that he could hike them up over his shoulders. 

You nodded, any of the previous doubts about your body and how you looked quieted as you watched Shinsou turn his head to the side and nip at your ankle. “You’re so fucking perfect. These fucking legs drive me wild every time, kitten.” You felt Shinsou pressed up against the entrance of your cunt, feeling him leak onto your slip. “I don’t ever want you to feel bad about yourself when you look so good.” He was slow as he pushed into you, feeling the stretch around his cock as you moaned out his name. “Your body is fucking perfect,” he said through gritted teeth as he propped himself up on his forearms, leaned in over you so that violet hair hung over your face. Once he started thrusting, he was slow, hitting deep against your walls. 

“This tummy is so fucking beautiful,” he groaned as your walls clamped around him once he picked up pace. “Feels so fuckin-nngh,” he sputtered, your feet locked behind his neck. “So good to rest on.” His pace quickened again, purple shaded eyes dropping to your breasts as they bounced in time with his thrusts. “These fucking breasts,” he grunted. You whimpered as you felt that mounting wave of your high start to climb again. “So fucking hypnotizing to watch while I fuck you,” he hissed, your hands braced against his muscled biceps as his pace started to turn sloppy. Your nails dug in, and Shinsou tossed his head back as he hit the final turn.

When he looked back down at you, there was carnal need in his eyes. “These fucking lips,” he moaned, leaning down to capture your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss that left behind traces of your cunt. “I can’t get enough, kitten...” His tongue ravaged the rows of your teeth, lapped against your tongue as he fought to taste every part of you could. You were at the climax of that wave mounted in your heat, and you moaned his name, the only indicator he needed of to hurry the fuck up. He started to fuck harder into you to the point where bruises were likely to blossom against where his skin slapped against yours. “That’s it, kitten, that’s it.” he cooed, listening to the mewls falling past your lips as you started to spill over, the wet sound of sex filling the room louder than it had been. 

Shinsou leaned back just slightly and returned his hand to your clit, the final push you needed as he paid it loving attention. You came undone around his cock and thumb, the shuddering orgasm ripping through you as you cried out his name. Your legs spasmed, squeezing against once more as he followed after you moments later, spilling hot ribbons of cum inside you. He continued to thrust after he’d come, emptying whatever remains he had until he was empty and spent. Breathless, Shinsou flopped against your chest. His head rested against your breast, moving in time with your rapid breaths that mirrored his own. His thumbs traced loving circles over your hips, his cock soft inside you but Shinsou not wanting to leave you aching and empty of him just yet. “That’s my good girl,” he rasped, swallowing heavily. 

Your hands raked through the thick wave of indigo hair, gentle as you combed through it. Words and thoughts were out of your functionality for a passage of time, but when you finally remembered how to do both, you asked a simple question. One that you really already knew the answer to, no longer abashed about how it hugged the curves of your body, just another indicator that you were human. After how much attention Shinsou had dedicated to your body, you almost felt silly for having felt insecure to begin with. “The black suit?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the breast opposite the one he was slumped on.  Shinsou turned his head slightly so that he could look at you, admire all that you were. And what you were to him was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life making feel that good about herself, about her place in the world. However he had to do that, he would. It was only right because you had supported him through so much and had never asked for anything in return. You were the only person who had ever looked at him like he was normal, like he wasn’t some type of freak. And he’d done the same for you when you’d both attended UA. As far as he was concerned, the only forever he needed was right there, pressed up against his naked body. Shinsou’s grin was lopsided and he nodded. “The black one.” 

[starfxckersinc]

1, 14, 15 (1st favourite for both)

1. 11 favorite bands

im gonna do of all time, and rank them ultimate fave to lowest fave. it’s super hard to do lmao & i may forget some esp since I tend to get into solo artists ♥️♥️♥️

1. Nirvana

2. PJ Harvey original trio

3. Hole

4. The Stooges

5. The Beatles

6. Marilyn Manson

7. Johnny Cash and the Tennessee Three

8. Bikini Kill

9. Violent Femmes

10. The Shangri Las

11. The Smashing Pumpkins

Number 14. Fave song by fave band?

LITHIUMMMMM is one of my favorite songs ever made. it has incredible emotional significance to me, like, every line. some are too intimate to like, write out in anything that isn’t a journal. the lyric I most related to when I first got into the band, as Lithium was the only song of theirs I could tolerate, was “im so happy, cause today I found my friends, they’re in my head” because it was the only lyric i had ever heard that accurately described the effects of maladaptive daydreaming long term.

Fave album by fave band?

I always say Unplugged bc I think their sound is the most powerful there. in terms of their not-compilation works, bleach is probably the most musically powerful & inventive, nevermind has some of the most powerful songwriting(in terms of simplicity + structure), and in utero has the best lyrics, hands down. unplugged is just really great bc it was one of the only actual confidence boosts that I think Kurt ever took to heart, he was super super nervous to do it and everybody thought it would be a disaster. they never even rehearsed and everybody was estranged by that point. Kurts voice is TREMBLING when he speaks before about a girl, the first track on the record. but afterwards, after being convinced by a friend, he said “I was pretty fucking good, wasn’t i?” which is really really cute. his self confidence was awful lmao. also where did you sleep last night? is another highly intimate one.

thank u sm I LOVVVE these!!!!