#voice over by Bo Burnham

[you-expect-too-much]

I didn’t have “crying into a baked Camembert” on my 2024 bingo card but as someone who knows my own hobbies and interests pretty well, that feels like an oversight

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x reader: Milestones

A/N: I was listening to FaceTime with my Mom (Tonight) by Bo Burnham for the entire time while writing this :’)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 2,255

Visual Prompt here!

You’re so screwed.

So, so, so screwed.

Check the second hand on your watch, dodging out the way of passersby, feet practically dancing over the cobbles as you speed-walk toward the restaurant. There’s no way you’re going to make it. Absolutely no way. Gods, you were already marked late last week. One more strike and the consequences will be inflicted on your salary. You really don’t want to have to rely on Azriel to get food in again.

Eyes flit through shop windows mindlessly, hoping the weather will still be relatively temperate after your shift—your hopes are pretty high. The afternoons have been fairly mild recently, the smallest crispness only just beginning to creep in. Frost dusting the leaves, diamond dew-drops glittering in finely spun web.

A flash of white causes you to come to an abrupt halt, backtracking a few steps to peer through the large expanse of glass, the shop name typed out in bold letters across the pane. Contained within the front display are three dresses: pale yellow, white and pale orange, from left to right. Each is held upon a female mannequin torso, the fabric swishing as customers pass by in the background.

The centre dress. It’s lovely. The stitching, the length…the fabric looks like it wouldn’t itch, either.

Shuffle around some mental calculations…size, width, length. All good.

Damn. It looks like it would fit you.

Your watch practically burns into your wrist, searing your skin, urging you to move forward, time ticking away as you stare and stare. Looking at it alone, you know it’ll be pricey…possibly unaffordable, if you get a portion of your wages spliced off. You just have to try it on. Even if it’s utterly out of your price range, you can get to wear it, just to see if it really is as lovely as it looks.

But for now, you’ve got to sprint to work. You’ll just stop by later. Have something to look forward to.

————

You’re in absolutely no condition to try on that dress.

One slightly too-loud word away from crumpling into a pile of tears and washing down a drain, never to be seen again. Left to wallow beneath the city, dissolving into the Sidra.

Velaris is a lovely place to live, but it’s not perfect. Well, its citizens aren’t perfect. Between the male who had insisted his steak wasn’t properly cooked, to the female who sent her food back seven times, to the group of fae who were short on their bill by five gold pieces… Tears well at the memories alone. You got stuck on cleaning up, anyway—punishment for being late. At least your salary will remain untouched for now. The dress still stands a chance.

However, it will have to wait for tomorrow. Cleaning up takes long enough as it is, but having to do it on your own is a whole new level of misery. By the time the chairs are up on the tables, the floor’s been swept and the remaining utensils washed and returned to their rightful places, you’re on the verge of collapsing. Feet aching, wrists aching, head aching. The moment you get home, you’re going to pass out on the welcome mat.

The key clicks in the restaurant lock, finally done with the horrifically long day, and your back slumps, spine aching. What a miserable day.

Footsteps sound behind you, closer than any of those passing by, and you turn. Only to be overshadowed by—

You nearly burst into tears. “Az…” Lips tilt down in the corners, vision blurring as your voice wobbles.

“You were supposed to be home three hours ago,” he says gently, stepping closer, wings flaring to shield you from the partygoers and other currently unwelcome folk. “I thought you might’ve been hit with a long day,” he sighs, arms reaching out, tucking you against him, wings curving round, swallowing you whole.

You whimper as you fall into him, a few tears slipping out as you grip him, pressing into his leathers as his scent encompasses you. Heat warms your bones, sinking into your skin, slowly encouraging your light to start up again. Tears begin to slow, eyes drying as his comfort soothes you out, calming you down from the utterly hellish day. His hand strokes patterns down your back, pressing kisses to the crown of your head, making you want to melt like butter. Melt and splash onto him, soak into his skin so you can always be together.

Sniffing, you step back, wiping your cheeks; drying your eyes as you manage to get a hold of yourself. Azriel’s hands rest atop your shoulders, holding you together while you gather up the strength to do it yourself. “Feeling better now?” He asks, attention solely on you. Head dips in confirmation, though he waits a moment longer before stepping away. “Let’s get home. Then we can get into bed and forget today ever happened.” A sad smile lifts your lips as you look up at him gratefully. “Thanks, Az.”

He shrugs it off, hand swallowing yours as you begin the darkened walk back, faelight illuminating the way. You don’t miss how his shadows dart around you when you reach a slightly unstable part of the cobbles, how his hand tightens on your own. “Want to talk about all the shitty people?” He offers, a laugh bubbling from your chest. “Not really,” you mumble, “I don’t want to give attention to their shittiness.” He nods in the low light, going quiet.

“You know,” he starts slowly, “I think you’re pretty strong for going back there day after day.” You snort. Hand squeezes you, “I’m not joking. Having to interact with that many people, put up with so much bullshit, and keep going back?” He hums quietly, and the tears well again—you turn your head slightly. “Says the Spymaster,” you mumble, “you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“And you don’t see me waitressing,” he counters.

Laughter bursts suddenly from your lungs, blaring through the night air. Tears spill as you laugh, squeezing closer to him, feeling how his wing wraps around you affectionately. “I really love you sometimes, Az,” you half cry, half laugh. You can feel the grin on his mouth as he peers at you, a single brow quirked. “Only sometimes?” You sniff again, praying your nose won’t start running this time. “Okay…all the time,” you relent, “but particularly now. I extra-specially love you.”

He replies with a laugh of his own, making you go all soft and fuzzy inside, heat warming your breastbone as your temperature spikes with pleasure. Hearing him laugh…it makes you happy. Especially when he’s happy from you. That’s the Special Happy—only his kind.

————

“Oh…”

You blink a few times, comprehending the words. It was sold a few days ago.

“Do you know…I mean, will there be another?” You ask, trying not to sound as crestfallen as you feel. The shop assistant shakes her head, curls bouncing as she does so, “I’m afraid not. At least, not that I know of. It was a one-off from the seamstress—she generally doesn’t do dresses like that.”

“Oh…” You repeat.

“I’m sorry you missed it,” she tries to console. “If it helps at all, the male who bought it mentioned it was for his wife—it’ll have a loved home.” You nod weakly. It helps a little. You press your lips together in a tight smile, “thank you anyway, for being so kind about it. You probably didn’t want to have to comfort a moping customer today when you clocked in.”

She smiles gently, “it’s no skin of my back. I hope you’ll find something else at some point.” You nod your head dutifully, then turn, glumly padding out of the shop. Azriel remains where you left him, stood just to the side of the entrance—worried about knocking a mannequin over in the compact shop. “They didn’t have it?” He asks, noting your expression. Shake your head dismally, sighing. “Gods, if I’d been earlier that day I could’ve gone in after work. It might’ve still been there.”

His arm wraps over your shoulders, pulling you into his side while you fall into step beside him. “Oh well,” you murmur, “the female was very nice about it, so that’s something, I suppose. Not a totally awful experience.” Azriel hums in response, squeezing gently. Puff air out from your lips, “anywhere you’d like to go, then?” He thinks for a little, pausing to contemplate the question. As if he hasn’t already made a list ranging from highest to lowest priority of places he’s like to visit today. You know his games quite well.

“What about food? A hungry stomach won’t help with your mood.”

“I asked where you’d like to go. Not where my stomach does,” you reply grumpily. He gives you a pointed look and you sigh. A reluctant smile raising your lips. He’s right.

“Will you at least pick a place you like?” You sigh, leaning into him, taking in his scent. He chuckles at that, already leading you away from the shop, distraction having succeeded.

————

A week later, and the dress still glimmers in the backstreets of your memory.

Eyes have begun checking the store front day after day, just to see if another similar one has been sent over, but—nothing. So far.

So far, you remind yourself. There’ll be other dresses. Other nice things to look forward to. Other things to be happy about. Like your husband having been completely free today. A smile curves you lips as you shuffle through your wardrobe, searching for something nice to wear for him.

Neither of you particularly fancied going out to eat—despite it probably having been easier to do so. But you spend so much time around other people eating, and you’d just be habitually tense the entire evening. Not to mention Azriel wouldn’t find it fun, either. So you’re having a quiet night in, after a loud day out, shared with friends and family alike.

He knocks on your door, stepping in soon after. “Looking for something to wear?” He asks, a lilt to his voice. You roll your eyes, smiling none the less, “how’d you know? And you didn’t wait for my answer. I could’ve been changing.” Tongue flicks out to wet his lips, eyes latched upon your own. Heat warms your cheeks, shaking your head, grinning to yourself.

Azriel walks over, large hands settling at your waist, gently turning you to face him. Lowers his mouth over yours, lips slanting together. You’re surprised at first, caught off guard by the soft display of affection, but then you melt into it, hands cupping his jaw, his own keeping you close against his chest. Pull away to look at one another. “What was that for?” You whisper hoarsely, peering up into gentle hazel eyes.

Lips curve, turning you around to face the bed. A cream box laying atop the neatly made duvet, pretty bow tied atop it. “For me?” You ask, looking up at him, head tilting back against his chest. He nods, gentle pushing you forward, “have a look.”

Smiling, you raise the lid from the box, feeling his gaze warming your skin.

Blink.

White fabric…

Eyes lock on hazel, mischievous and adoring.

Turn back to the gift.

Swallowing, shaky fingers dip into the box, latching on the familiar fabric. Stand from the bed, allowing the dress to unfold in front of you, held up by the seams atop the sleeves. It’s the dress.

Your dress.

Lower it slowly, eyes heating as they connect with his, softened with affection. “You…” Azriel nods gently, expression shifting to something a little vulnerable. “I hope you like it.”

The tears start before you have the chance to even try to stop them, lip wobbling as you set the dress down on the bed, hurrying over. Arms wrap around him, burying your head in his chest, willing your eyes to dry. Hands settle against you, stroking your hair, tracing circles over your back, laughing quietly. Keeping you safe in the quiet of your bedroom.

“You like it?” He asks, making sure he’s gotten it right. He could never get it wrong, but you nod anyway. “I love you and hate you so much right now,” you mumble, sniffing. Pulling away a little—enough to peer up at him. “What have I done to earn your hate?” He smiles, hand still stroking your hair. “How am I ever supposed to top this for you?” You murmur, fingers gripping him tighter. “You’ve set the standard so high, how am I ever supposed to match it?”

Azriel laughs, shaking his head, “go put it on for me, and you’ll have done so.”

You doubt it, but follow his instructions anyway, changing out of your day clothes, shifting into the dress. Soft and gentle on your skin, fitting comfortably, not too heavy; not too light. Utterly perfect. Lip wobbles again as you arrange the fabric to sit how you want, turning to look at him, waiting his opinion. “What do you think?”

“I think I pity everyone who’ll never get to see you like this,” he murmurs, silently walking forward, stopping when his feet are either side your own. “And I think I’m the luckiest male alive because I’m the first you chose to show.” Cups your jaw, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Pulls away to look at you, smiling adoringly.

“Happy Birthday.”

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Clorinde with a reader that’s scared of spiders

characters: Clorinde x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Listened to Bo Burnham's song "Spider" and found it highly reletable. So I thought since I'm currently in a bit of a writing block I might as well use the inspiration to try and write smth short for Clorinde.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Clorinde

Both of you had drastically changed since the first time the two of you met, and yet, there were still many things about you that remained the same, no matter how little they seemed to make sense or how… admittedly silly they were. So when she saw you tense up whenever you saw a spider, no matter the size, in your home, Clorinde couldn’t help but smile.

No matter how formidable of a foe you had bested in the past and how even things that once put you in terror now seemed to have relatively little effect on you, your arachnophobia never seemed to grow any dimmer, your constant mutters of “at least it’s not a spider” whenever facing one of your other fears doing a great job at weakening them while at the same time feeding your biggest weakness.

“It’s just a spider in the corner, that’s absolutely normal. I’m not scared of spiders or anything, that would be silly. I fought mitachurls and sentient water bubbles, a small spider is nothing compared to that”, your shaky voice rang out loud enough for Clorinde to hear you from the next room over, almost instinctively causing her to stand up from her chair and begin making her way over. Whether it was to help you out or simply to witness the spectacle? Even she couldn’t tell.

When she got to the room however and you quickly threw her a glance before greeting her and shifting your attention back onto the –now visibly empty– corner, the sanity you barely managed to hold onto began to slip.

“Oh, it’s gone. That’s that, I guess”, Clorinde absentmindedly stated before starting to turn around, only to halt in her tracks the moment you pulled out your gun and started to point it at the spot the spider was last seen, frantically starting to search for it behind every piece of furniture you had. .

“Where did he g- where the f- WHERE ARE YOU!” 

As Clorinde carefully watched your… unique way of facing your biggest fear, she prepared herself to step in and stop you from blowing a golf ball sized hole into your walls or furniture, her eyes fixating on your index finger to make sure it didn't get anywhere near the trigger. Of course nothing stopped her from stopping you then and there, a simple word from her probably being enough to get you to calm down, and yet, Clorinde caught herself wanting to spectate the scene for just a bit longer.

“SHOW YOURSELF! YOU THINK I’M AFRAID OF YOU? YOU THINK I’M AFRAID-"

[storiesforallfandoms]

look at me ~ bo burnham

word count: 2323

request?: yes!

“so you already know that inside: the outtakes has gotten so many people back into their bo thing. me included. sooooo i was thinking, he’s a big guy, ya know👀 so my lil brain was doin some thinkin (not at all while horny) and it came up with this: bo fucking you in front of a mirror!! he’s holding you up, fucking you from behind, saying things like ‘look at how much of a pretty little whore you are for my cock’. just, please please please do your thing and make this something great🥹”

description: after a long day of filming his special, he finds himself pent up and wanting to release his aggressive sexual energy, so he decides to take his girlfriend in the first place he finds her: in the bathroom in front of the mirror

pairing: bo burnham x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two, three)

Bo had a lot of feelings surrounding the filming of his quarantine special. At first he was upset over having to cancel his plans of returning to live performances, but then the idea of filming, editing, directing, lighting, etc., his own special seemed exciting. And getting back into writing comedy felt almost therapeutic. The longer quarantine went on, though, the more his mental health struggled. He was enjoying creating, but he hated that this was how he had to create. And he hated how much he struggled to make everything perfect.

But more than anything, he was unbearably horny. To a point where he was writing extremely horny bits into the special.

It was his own doing really. Bo would spend every day - from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep - working on the special. Most nights, that was late enough that his girlfriend, (Y/N), would be fast asleep. Other nights, he felt too mentally exhausted to try and initiate sex.

He felt guilty for the quality time he was losing with her by working all day, but (Y/N) was incredibly supportive. She would check on him every day to make sure he was doing okay, occasionally bringing him food so he would eat. She’d get him to take little break every now and then before going back to long hours of working on the special. Bo felt extremely grateful to have her in his life. But man, did he ever miss being intimate with her.

He was sat in this guest house one evening, editing his most recent bit, which was a song about sexting. His mind was on (Y/N) as his own voice played through the speakers. He thought about how badly he wanted to hold her, feel her body against his, her warm walls around him. His horniness was definitely trickling into his work and it was something he needed to fix soon or else he felt like he might explode.

Bo stood and looked out the window that faced towards his house. He could see a light on in the room that belonged to him and (Y/N), signaling that she was still awake. He quickly rushed out of his guest house, leaving the unedited song running.

(Y/N) was in the ensuite bathroom getting ready for bed. She had peaked out to the guest house to check on Bo. The lights were off besides a dull blue light that she assumed was Bo editing another bit. She had sighed to herself before going to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. As proud as she was of Bo for working on this special all on his own, she really did miss getting to spend time with him. Their bed felt too empty without him.

She was leaned over the sink, washing her face, when she suddenly felt two arms wrap around her. She let out a yelp and stood up quickly to see Bo’s towering figure behind her in the mirror. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, lightly kissing the area, causing her heart to flutter for a different reason.

“Hey,” she said. “You finished up early tonight.”

“I can’t standing being away from you anymore,” he responded. “It’s getting too hard to not have you in my arms.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s hard,” she teased.

Bo chuckled and grinded his hard, clothed dick against her. “You got me there.”

He continued to kiss her neck as he pressed himself against her. She lulled her head to the side, giving him more access to her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed. His hands moved from around her waist, one going upwards to cup one of her breasts and the other moving down between her legs. Her breath hitched as he teased the waistband of her pajama pants.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hot breath fanning over her ear in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. She nodded in response. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, please Bo.”

Bo grinned and nibbled on her ear as his hand dipped under her waistband. He ran a finger through her folds, teasing her clit with a feather-light touch.

“You’re already so wet,” he whispered. “Desperate for me to you, baby?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) whimpered. “I’ve missed your touch so much.”

“I’ve missed touching you. You don’t understand how much I’ve missed having you. I think about being inside of you practically every waking moment, and when I’m sleeping too.”

She moaned as he finally applied pressure to her clit. He rubbed slow circles into the bundle of nerves as he continued to kiss over her neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin, leaving red marks in his wake that he really hoped would turn into hickies. There was something so hot to him about marking (Y/N) in a way that other people would see and know she was his. He slipped his hand under her shirt to cup and knead at her breasts, one at a time, making her nipples pop out underneath his fingers.

(Y/N) was a moaning mess; putty in Bo’s hands. He was essentially holding her up at that point as she was leaning back against him, her legs wobbling to a point where she wasn’t sure she could stay up much longer.

“Are you close already?” Bo asked. “I can feel you trembling.”

“I-I’m s-so close,” she said.

“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me while you cum.”

She pried her eyes open to look into the mirror. Bo’s eyes were staring back at her, dark with lust. It was hard to keep them open as her orgasm washed over her. Her legs just about gave out from under her as she cried out. Bo held her, smirking to himself as she trembled in his arms. He whispered praises into her ear as she came down from her high.

“I need you,” he whispered. “Right here, baby, please.”

“The bed is just a few steps away,” she teased.

“I can’t wait. I’m a slight breeze away from cumming in my pants.”

She giggled and turned her head to kiss him. She reached back to run her hands through his long hair. At first, she wasn’t a fan of the idea of Bo growing out his hair and facial hair, but now, with his beard leaving a tickling sensation in its wake and his long hair giving her something to hold on to, she suddenly loved it.

Bo broke away from the kiss to shove (Y/N) down over the bathroom counter. He pulled her pants and underwear down around her ankles, helping her to step out of them and kicking them off to the side. He let his own pants fall to the floor as well, his hard dick springing free from his pants. He took it in one hand and ran it through (Y/N)’s drenched folds, collecting her slick to use as his own lube. (Y/N) bit down on her lip as she whimpered, but couldn’t contain her moans once Bo pushed the head of his dick against her entrance. He easily slid his cock into her, slowly moving inwards until he was buried at the hilt inside of her. He dropped his head against her back, groaning at the sensation. It was a feeling he had been longing for, and now that he had it he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to last.

He slowly pulled himself out halfway before slowly thrusting back into her again. The head of his dick so easily nudged her g-spot that it made her already shaky legs even more wobbly every time he thrust inwards. She held on to the counter, digging her nails into it with such a grip that she thought she was going to break the counter.

Bo kissed over (Y/N)’s neck and what he could reach of her face again. “Can I start fucking you, princess?”

She nodded, unable to speak. Bo took that as enough of an answer for him this time and started thrusting into her at a quicker speed. He held on to her hips as he slammed into her, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. (Y/N)’s mind went blank, the only thing she could think of being Bo, Bo, Bo! She cried out his name, a sound more beautiful than any song Bo had ever heard.

“I might not last long,” he told her. “Do you think you can give me one more before I shoot this hot load inside you, baby?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes.”

It became a chant, like that was the only word she knew.

Bo smiled and put his hand around her throat, pulling her up so that she was flush against his chest. He continued thrusting at his brutal pace while reaching his other hand between her legs to rub her clit again.

“Look at how much of a pretty little whore you are for my cock,” he said. “God, you look so fucking hot, falling apart for me like this.”

Her eyes were rolling in the back of her head, which clearly was not what Bo wanted. He squeezed her throat slightly, just enough to block her airways and make her lightheaded.

“I said look at me,” he growled into her ear. She opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. He smiled at her. “Good girl. Look how fucking good you look, all cock drunk for me like this.”

Her eyes were hooded, threatening to close again, and her mouth was in a permanent “O” shape as her body bounced with every thrust. Bo looked like a man on a mission, watching her face intently as he rubbed ruthlessly at her clit and thrusted hard into her. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, a sight which just drove her further over the edge.

She didn’t have to tell him this time that she was close. Actually, she didn’t even have time to tell him. Her second orgasm hit her quickly and intensely. Her vision clouded for a moment and her entire body felt heavy. Bo wrapped an arm around her lower stomach, keeping her up for his last few thrusts before he also hit his own climax. He buried his head in her neck again, muffled groans tumbling from his lips as he gave a few more shallow thrusts.

They were both panting and sticky with sweat once they finally started coming down from their highs. Bo was reluctant to pull out, but he could feel himself becoming soft and slipping from between her legs. (Y/N) gasped as she felt the hot trail of cum running down her legs.

“Let me clean you up so you can finally lay down,” Bo said.

He reached past her to grab the face cloth she had been using early and ran warm water over it again. Turned her so she was facing him and knelt down in front of her to wipe her legs and between them. He planted a kiss on both of her inner thighs, causing her to twitch a little from overstimulation. When he stood again, he discarded the cloth onto the floor and took (Y/N) into his arms. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to bed.

He laid her down first before crawling into bed next to her. He took her into his arms, reveling in the feeling of her warm body against his. It had been so long since they had been able to fall asleep together. He rarely tried to cuddle her when he came into bed after she had fallen asleep in fear that he would wake her.

“Are you done working for the night then?” (Y/N) asked, her voice soft and sheepish.

“Definitely,” he decided. “This takes so much more precipitant than working on that stupid special.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid. I think it’s going to be really good.”

Bo chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You haven’t even seen any of it.”

“I saw that one that was a parody of Drake’s music.”

“Eh, I’m thinking of cutting that one. I don’t even like it all that much.”

“Don’t do that! It’s my favorite one!”

He squeezed her slightly and kissed her again. “Okay, no promises, but I’ll try my best to put it in.”

“Thank you.”

They laid in silence for a while. It was quite comforting. Bo never wanted to leave the bed. He just wanted to hold (Y/N) and lay here in the dark and silence.

“I miss this,” (Y/N) whispered into the silence.

Bo sighed. “Me too. I promise I’ll try not to work too late so that we can have these moments more often. And I promise I’ll try to finish the special soon so that I’m not working on it at all anymore.”

“You don’t have to finish it soon if you don’t feel it’s ready, but I would prefer it if you were here in bed with me when I fell asleep at night. It’s not the same to fall asleep in a lonely bed all by myself.”

“I promise. Now get some sleep. I can tell you’re fighting off the unconsciousness.”

(Y/N) shook her head and smiled to herself. Of course he was right, she felt exhausted now after their bathroom activities. Being curled in his warm embrace didn’t help that matter either. She settled herself next to him and closed her eyes, letting the sleep take hold of her. Bo wasn’t too far behind, placing one last kiss on the top of her head before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep.

[smudgethebadbard]

I've been craving a Stardew Valley show or short film, and this is who I would cast for each of the characters!

Please concernedape I need some sort of show regarding these babies I love them so much.

Wizard: Matt Berry (Laszlo Cravensworth, WWDITS)

Gus: Marco Barricelli (Massimo, Luca)

Lewis: William Dafoe (That weird guy that's in everything)

Willy: Tom Waits (Musician and entertainer)

Pierre: John Corbett (Chris Stevens, Northern Exposure)

Harvey: John Mulaney (My skrimblo)

Elliot: Christian Bale (Howl, Howl's Moving Castle english dub)

Gunther: Les Claypool (Lead bassist and vocals of Primus)

Linus: Ian Mckellen (Gandalf, LotR)

Abigail: Olivia Olsen (Marceline, Adventure Time)

Vincent: Collin Dean (Gregory, Over the Garden Wall)

Jas: Kyla Kowalewski (Anais, Amazing World of Gumball)

Jodi: Carolyn Lawrence (Sandy Cheeks, Jimmy Neutron)

Alex: Keanu Reeves (Theodore Logan, Bill and Ted)

Sam: Alex Winter (Bill S. Preston, Bill and Ted)

Sebastian: Aaron Dismuke (Tamaki Amajiki, BNHA, english dub)

Shane: Pedro Pascal (He just plays tired single caretakers so well)

Maru: Heidi Hynden Walch (Princess Bubblegum, Adventure Time)

Emily: Sarah-Nichole Robles (Luz, The Owl House)

Leah: Vico Ortiz (Jim, OFMD)

Marnie: Dolly Parton :]

Penny: Theresa Gallagher (Nichole, Amazing World of Gumball)

Morris: Bo Burnham (Capitalist goblin go brrr lmao)

Haley: Rachel McAdams (Regina George, Mean Girls original)

Robin: Kimberly Brooks (Jasper, Steven Universe)

Caroline: Deedee Magno (Pearl, Steven Universe)

Evelyn: Jennifer Saunders (Ms. Spink, Coraline)

George: Dan Castellanetta (Abe/Grampa Simpson)

Kent: Viggo Mortensen (Aragorn, LotR)

Mr. Qi: Keith David (Cat from Coraline, Husk from Hazbin Hotel)

Sandy: Wendie Malick (Edalyn, the Owl House)

Leo: Kwesi Boakye (Darwin, Amazing world of Gumball)

Krobus: Alex Hirsch (Only suitable voice for him)

Let me know if you would like more stuff like this later on! Enjoy folks :D

[honoviadakai]

What you favorite Hazbin hotel song says about you 😈🎶😇

(This list includes songs from the pilot as well as a few others that are not official but are near and dear to the fandom's collective heart)

I’m always chasing rainbows 🌈:

…so how’s your relationship with your parents?

You have a good heart but you’re way too hard on yourself

You don’t always have to be busting your ass off, taking breaks is not a crime

Also failing is not the end of the world

I believe in you, please be kinder to yourself

Inside of every demon is a rainbow 🌈 😈:

Golden retriever energy

You are so sweet but so naive

I honestly feel like if this is your fav song, I could spit in your meal and you'd just smile and get a new plate

It's ok to go apeshit

If you did ever get mad I genuinely feel like you'd be absolutely terrifying

But you're such a sweet person, i can't imagine someone pushing you to that point

Inside of every demon is a lost cause/Alastor's reprise 🎶👿:

You're a cynical bastard and you wear that shit like a badge of honor

You're on the same page as Alastor in terms of redemption being impossible/pointless

If this song is your favorite, you laugh at children when they fall over

very loudly

You're the one in your friend group that everyone has to warn about before introducing you to knew people

You receive the bombastic side eye so often you smile every time it happens

ADDICT🕸️🚬:

You need a hug

All of the hugs

You're doing your best and I just want you to know I'm proud of you

Vox's Interlude📺🎶:

You like Dubstep

You like Dubstep to a concerning degree

You're also disappointed Vox doesn't have the same voice effect in cannon that he has in the song

You're a Vox simp, but you're really chill about it

Royal Flush🥃♥️♠️♦️♣️:

Hello my fellow Pansexuals and Husk Fans~

If this if your favorite song, you're a Mick Lauer fan and you were sad to hear he wasn't coming back to the official series and it made you even more jaded than you already were(I feel you)

You're also a fan of Johnathan Young and Rock music

You lowkey giggle every time you hear the "every hole is a goal" line

You probably have a sever resting bitch face that scares ppl sometimes, but deep down you're a softy

A jaded softy, but a softy

Radio Play📻🎶:

Hello Alastor fans that lament the recasting of Edward Bosco

Hello Black Gyrph0n fans that think he's not receiving enough recognition

How deep in the financial debt hole are you because of your love of Alastor and new found desire to have a retro 30's aesthetic once this song dropped?

You have good taste in music but I feel like you'd say out of pocket shit on accident

You probably know how to do the Charleston pretty well and that's pretty cool

Redemption arc🙏🎶:

Hello my depressed gifted child burnouts and Elise Lovelock fans

You're a girlboss, you really are, but I need you to take more breaks and drink more water

You strike me as someone who takes the phrase "act your wage" as a suggestion at best

If over thinking was an Olympic sport, you'd win gold, silver ans bronze

stop trying to carrying other people's baggage on top of your own, that's not building character, its building more work for your therapist

Assuming you've even allowed yourself to see one!

Insane🦌🔪:

You're unhinged

like Niffty levels unhinged

but you have good taste in music

You're also a very vocal Alastor fan

You need to be watched 24/7 because you strike me as someone who'd commit war crimes for fun

Eyes on me📺🥲:

You like Techno a normal amount

you're probably a Bo Burnham fan

You also give the vibe that you like anime like Evangalion

as well as the vibe of hiding behind a chill facade even though you're kinda depressed

you also give the impression that you're into enemies to lovers and once sided pining in romance

You ship Vox x Alastor in a wholesome way and you're foaming at the mouth for their backstory

You hate Val(as you should)

Change the order 👑🪽:

You lament that Lucifer doesn't have a British accent

You HEAVILY lament Lucifer not being a heartless asshole

You oh so desperately wanna see Lucifer and Lilith in their prime/as a united power couple

You have slight daddy issues

You're also probably someone who grew up with some religious trauma

You're in your villain arc but it's mostly yo protect yourself

i highly suggest getting a dog, a rubber duck collection and a therapist

Get hooked🚬🦋:

Your search history is not suitable for human eyes

You definitely have daddy issues

You desperately wanna see Val on the poles

You're fun at partied but you cannot be left unsupervised under any circumstances

You radiate bad bitch energy but I feel like you'd apologize to a kindly janitor if you had to walk on a floor they just finished mopping

You can run in heels and I respect that immensely

Smile like you mean it😁🦌:

I get it! You love Alastor! Please lower your voice a tad friend!

It's concerning how quick you'd sell your soul to this man

You like jazz unironically(nice)

You wanna experience one of Al's radio shows

...I'm not entirely sure if you wanna hear it or be the victim...and that deeply concerns me

Use me up🕷️🥲:

You wanna see Angle Dust fuck shit up(same)

You don't make friends easily but you're the loyalest son of a bitch anyone could ever have and more people need to recognize that

You probably had a really rough childhood

You give ppl middle fingers and sass the way Oprah gave out cars back in the day

You just want a hug, someone to say they're proud of you(I'm proud of you friend) and a month long nap

We're sure to drown🐈‍⬛🥃🥺:

Hello again my fellow Pansexuals and Husk fans

Specifically the ones with severe depression, trust issues and think mixing Tequila and monster energy drinks will help with the abandonment issues

yeah, i see you, put the bottle down mf

get therapy, this a threat

You're so cynical that even shadow the hedgehog would ask if you're ok

asking for help doesn't make you weak fam, i get where your coming from but you need a good plucking you prickly cactus

oddly enough, you give the best advice to the few friends you keep in your circle but take none of your own advice

You listen to country rock with lyrics so sad that everyone in the car with you immediately get concerned

definitely a cat person

POP!👁️💥:

You either wanna be stepped on or do the stepping on

You probably watched Black Lagoon and loved Revy

If you don't know what I'm talking about, look her up, that's your type

Low key probably a pyromaniac

You're that one friend that's ALWAYS ready to punch your friend's ex's in the face

Honestly, I feel like you're scrappy enough to fist fight god with the confidence of someone who thinks they have a shot at winning

My machine 🐍 ⚙️:

You were really excited to see Pentious be one of the show's antagonists

You're still a little bitter about not getting your mad scientist, steam punk, snake man

You did love his War General outfit though

You probably really like shows like Arcane

You really wanted 'Enemies to lovers' CherriSnake or platonic/rivals CherriSnake

You probably have reptile as a pet

most likely a snake

Happy day in hell🎶🎤:

You're a basic Broadway bitch but your optimism is a tad infectious so I'll let it slide

You're a tad too optimistic though

Like, to a concerning degree

Someone could punch you and you'd ask them if they were ok despite having a split lip

you're definitely a workaholic

take that PTO sweetie, work will be there when you come back

Hell is forever😇😈:

you either really like Alex Brightman or you LOVE villains

you also love rock

You kicked your feet like a love sick when Adam did the guitar solo bit

Probably a fan of bands like Skillet

You have religious trauma but your coping mechanism is to crack jokes about it

some of them are probably inappropriate

Stayed gone📺🦌:

You ship Vox x Alastor a "normal" amount

You'd sell your soul for Vox and Al to have more duets together

You're probably a Vox simp

If you're not, its cuz you're an Al simp

You giggled at "That's the tea"

You also drooled at Al's demon form towards the end of the song

It starts with sorry🐍🥹:

friend, you are way too forgiving

someone could steal your life's savings and I feel like you'd just let them have it because "they probably need it more"

You were very proud of Pentious

Respectless💅📱:

You radiate chihuahua energy

You are 5'2 or smaller and 90 lbs soaking wet

someone need to make sure you don't run these streets lawless

don't get me wrong

You are absolutely a bad bitch that serves cunt like a 5 star restaurant serves gourmet steak

but you're gonna say the wrong thing to the wrong person one day

you cannot afford to fuck around and find out when they're over 5'9 my friend, sit down please

Whatever it takes🦋🩰:

you're the eldest child of your family aren't you

You don't need to prioritize everyone before yourself!

Love yourself first damn it!

You probably like Milfs or goths

You also probably wish Zestial had more songs

I have a feeling your favorite Disney movie is Encanto...

Poison🚬🕷️🥺:

Holy fuck you need a hug

You're either a survivor of some kind or life has just been kicking you in the balls for no god damn reason

Come here, I'm adopting you and making sure you're actually happy

You're low key an amazing dancer

literally one of the best people to be friends with

Loser Baby🐈‍⬛🕷️:

hello my fellow queers, Keith David fans, Blake Roman fans and Huskerdust shippers

You are a connoisseur of slow burn romance

You're probably a depressed hopeless romantic

friend, if you want the Husker to your dust...the loser to your baby...you gotta talk to people...

go touch grass

you're that one friend who bullies your bestie but that's cuz that your guy's love language

If anyone messed with your bestie, you'd fight that person to the death the way Husk and Angel did to those loan sharks

Hell's greatest dad🪽🦌:

You either beef with ppl for fun or you're a very flamboyant theater kid

Its probably both tbh

You probably fell in love with the blonde short king after this song

You ship Radioapple

you want a sitcom ft Radioapple and you'd sell your soul to get it

Your fav Disney movie is probably Aladdin

You totally play "HaHA! Fuck you..." on repeat

More than anything🪽😭:

So how's your relationship with your dad...

You cried so hard to this song that it scared you

grab the tissues, get your coziest blanket and go get your favorite treat

and some therapy

Welcome to Heaven😇🎶:

Emily is your favorite character

Your gaydar was going off when St. Peter started existing

Your a chill person

A little too chill though…

You might still be an active member of your community

Ya might wanna consider reducing your hours, there is such a thing as too much loyalty

Treat yourself to a vacation

You didn't know😧🪽:

Hello fellow black sheep of the family with severe religious trauma

You freaked the fuck out when the “If Hell is forever then Heaven must be a lie” line dropped

You felt so vindicated after this song and honestly, same

You LOVED Emily by the end of this song

Out for love 💗 🩰:

You like MILFs

You want Carmilla to kick/step on you

You’re either a magical girl fan, a fan of Latin music or both

You cheered so hard for Vaggie at the end you definitely got a noise complaint 🤣

Ready for this🎤⚔️:

You have anxiety

Your favorite character is probably Charlie

Your favorite movie is probably Marry Poppins or something in the same time period/genre

You’ve dealt with Karen’s before and watching Susan become tolerable was so satisfying for you

You want Alastor and Rosie to adopt you

More than anything(reprise):

You're the poster child of sappy hopeless romantics

You cried a little from joy here

You’re definitely not straight

You want this moment, go get yourself a Vaggie cuz you’re definitely gonna be the Charlie of the relationship

Finale🎶🎆:

You're the ultimate theater kid

This song hit all the sweet spots in your depressed brain for you

Let’s be honest, your favorite part of the song was either the Vees or Alastor

It’d your favorite part was with the Vees, your a huge chaos gremlin

You cannot be trusted with information but you’re very fun at parties

If your favorite part was Alastor’s part, get therapy

If you related to that part on a spiritual level, you mask so hard I’d believe you if you said you were born wearing a mask

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Pairings; Jason Todd x Female Reader (1) Pride and Prejudice and Hair A/N; Bo Burnham's INSIDE album is def the most motivational writing music ever lol

2- Seven-Eleven Karens and Pinky Promises At 3 AM

Jason hopped from the neighboring roof of your apartment building and then climbed down to your fire escape. He expected you to be awake, since it was a Saturday night, probably sitting on the couch working on something or baking in the kitchen. Secretly, he hoped that you were baking. Somehow, in some amazing, planets-aligning-just-right, way, you made cookies that tasted exactly the same as Alfred’s. The thought made his stomach growl. 

When he reached your window the light was on, illuminating the landing of the fire escape, which meant that you were awake, so he slid into the unlocked window. Tossing the mask on the couch, Jason walked through your apartment hesitantly. Never before had he been in there without you, and, so far, it seemed like there wasn’t another soul there. 

He called your name softly, hand subconsciously going to his gun. Something felt off. He didn’t know what, but when the light was on you were there. 

“I’m in here, Jay,” A sleepy voice called from your room. 

Instant relaxation overcame him for a second, and his hand fell by his side. Quietly, he went to your room. You were still laying in bed, rolled onto your back with an arm thrown up to block the light coming in. Awkwardly, Jason stood in the doorway.

“Hey, gorgeous,” You said, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Hey,” Jason inched closer as you patted the spot next to you to sit. “Sorry that I woke you up. I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Nah,” He could see the smile on your face through the dim lighting. To him, you look like Sleeping Beauty incarnate. “I would tell you if you were, and you couldn’t bother me even if you tried. I’m that chill.”

“Is this coming from the girl that yelled at an old lady in seven-eleven the other day?”

You laughed and moved over as Jason moved to sit. “She was such a Karen, though. You’re not a Karen.”

“Who knows, maybe I secretly am.”

You started to reach up to touch his hair, to tuck back that one curl right by his ear that just would never stay tucked behind it, but stopped short. Instead, you opted to grab his gloved hand, knowing that he wouldn’t object to that. 

Jason watched as you intertwined your fingers, slightly angry at himself that he only felt okay with holding your hand when the gloves were on. He was scared that if you felt the callouses and scars on his hands you would be disgusted with him. Never want to see him again. He thought that would probably be worse than some of the things he had been through. 

“No, you’re not a Karen,” You traced a stitch in the glove with your nail. After a moment of silence, you spoke again. “You had an okay night?”

“As okay as you can get being a vigilante in Gotham,” He tried to joke, to disperse the seriousness that came with the question. 

“You were safe tonight? Vigilante safe, I guess.”

“Yeah, I was.”

You sat up, leaning forward so that your faces were close together. “Good.” A yawn cut you off as you started to say something else, eyes drooping just a bit. Jason patted your pillow, to lay down. 

“Get some sleep. Gotta stay sharp for those Karens, right?”

You snorted, nodded, and laid down. “I’ll protect the cashiers from entitled old people if you protect yourself... Keep yourself safe.”

“I will,” Jason whispered. “I promise.”

You held out your pinky. Jason wrapped a gloved pinky around yours, thinking back to the first time you made him pinky promise. He couldn’t remember what it was for, but your smile--He remembered that. A goofy grin that made him feel nothing but butterflies and warmth. 

“Jay,” You whispered. 

“Yeah?”

“I left you a surprise on the kitchen counter,” You turned over, wrapping the covers over your head before he could get a question out. 

He sat, watching you for a minute, trying to gather up the courage to try and kiss your head goodbye, but couldn’t. The moves he made leaving were quiet, but his stop by the kitchen made him snort out loud. You had baked your heaven-sent cookies and put them in a shiny red Robin Tupperware container. Stuck to it was a sticky note that read; 

Bring this back so I can put more cookies in it!! Please be safe, Jaybeans. 

Jason shoved the note in his jacket pocket to put with the rest of the notes you gave him then tucked the Tupperware under his arm. Hopefully, his brother wouldn’t catch him eating out of the Robin container, just to avoid all the questions of where it came from. 

And so he wouldn’t have to share the cookies.

[egotisticaleverything]

High school Party

Bo Burnham x reader

A/N: this has been rotting in my draft for centuries so not requested just needed to finish this and cure my writers block for good !!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, Bo being unreasonably mean, reader is a down bad loser, almost fucking to prove a point

“Hey-Uh Bo?” I tap the tall boys shoulder, trying to get his attention in the crowded living room we’re standing in, “I wanted to ask if I could have your number- so we could like hand out some time?”

“What?” He says after turning around

“I said could I have your number-“

“I heard you fuck face I’m just not falling for the same song and dance again” he scoffs, taking a sip from his cup.

“What do you mean-“ I sputter out

“I know Chrissy sent you over here to fuck with me alright?” He shrugs “hey hot popular conventionally attractive friend of mine, go over and ask out the weird skinny kid.” He mocks her in a high pitched voice.

“What- no I just want your number asshole the fuck?” I scowl at him stepping back, phone in my left hand, beer in my right.

“Fine whatever. I’ll put my number in your phone. Just shut up.” He grabs my phone.

“Thanks, geez for an apparent ‘nerd’ you sure are a dickhead” I roll my eyes, looking down at my beer.

“Here.” He almost chucks the phone back at me “you win your little dare, pass go to collect 200” he walks away unphased.

“Bo- wait” I grab his arm “could we like maybe hang out some time..?” I manage to crack a slight smile as if my heart isn’t racing

“God you’re a good actress” he turns his head towards me “fine. Lunch. Tomorrow. Text me your address.” He pulls his arm away.

I look down at my phone to see the contact name he’s given himself “Truth or dare”, thought he’d be more original.

Me: I’m not Jk wit u I actly like u dmbas :/

TorD: ok def selling it 2 hard

Me: fuk u

TorD: shut up ur drnk

Me: I wish I wernt so cute cuz if u wernt id kill u

TorD: get sober then u can smd :P jkkkk

Me: u still at da party

TorD: obvi dmbas

Me: meet u upstairs in 10

TorD: no u wont

Me: yes I will

TorD: fine im redy for ur prank or wtver

Me: u still think im jk lol XD

________________________________

———————————

I walk into the room to see Bo sat on the bed “Surprised to see me here?” He jokes “I made sure to scope out the whole room for whatever you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning anything- what is wrong with you?” I am starting to get annoyed at this point,

“Yeah sure whatever-“ I cut him off by pulling him into a kiss, grabbing the collar of his shirt as I straddle his hips on the bed. I slowly bring my left hand up behind his head, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss as he groans. “You’re a good fucken actor.”

“I-… am not-… acting-…” I say between kisses as I lower Bo onto the bed, “you fucking brat.” I heave,

“God you’re something alright…” Bo attempts to catch his breath

“You’re lucky I take birth control” I say as I start undoing my jeans,

“Holy fuck you’re serious about this…” he looks up red faced

“You’re finally catching on, great work.” I scoff “Now what do you want me to do to you?” I giggle, trailing a hand down his chest.

“I-uhm wow” his cocky demeanour has completely disappeared, replaced with a flustered mess of a man who’s almost melting below me.

“What do you want me to do to you?” I ask him firmer this time as I throw my shirt across the room.

“I-oh wow uhm I-I’ve never gotten this far” he stutters and stumbles as i straddle him in nothing but my underwear and bra,

“I can tell.” I cross my arms “now use your big boy words and tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I mean I really do-I’m not sure I-“

“Just say it”

“What”

“The first thing that comes to your mind”

“I-uh- fuck- I’m sorry” he facepalms, the crimson of his face barley peaking out.

“What-Bo?” I pull his hands away from his face, genuinely concerned.

“Why are you of all people into me?” He looks away,

“I-what do you mean?” I ask genuinely confused, what does he mean ‘me of all people’.

“You’re friends with Chrissy and Grace and all those other really pretty girls-“ he starts rambling “fuck you’re gorgeous, I-I mean that’s the reason I was so defensive…” his eyes drifted towards me, as he obviously tried to not look at my body.

“Bo… why do you think I stare at you every day in chemistry-?” I ask now just as red faced as the man below me “why do you think I spend so much time around the drama club when crew aren’t even needed-“

“What-?”

“Ever since freshman year- Bo I’ve been in love with yo-“ I’m suddenly cut off by a kiss, as he sits up, one of Bo’s hands finds its place on the back of my neck, the other places itself on my lower back.

“I’m- I don’t think I want to rush into this…” he sighs “I think you’re really pretty and fun to be around but I don’t want to take things too fast-“

“Thank god-sorry but I like you too much to just fuck you and prove a point.” I laugh sitting up “so… are you free next Friday after drama club?”

[goldendoodlerlockerlove]

@theangrypomeranian made a post where they said Gene is Bo Burnham coded and I loved that so much that I made an AI Cover of Gene singing Welcome to the Internet. It’s not perfect, because it’s AI, but I actually kind of like how it turned out??

The tone of this song and some of the swearing is a little out of character for Gene, but I digress.

[disturbed-and-depressed]

5 Years

CC!Ranboo x GN!Reader

Song: 5 Years by Bo Burnham

Warnings: None

Y/n fiddled with the phone in their hands, still contemplating as to whether or not to actually make the call to their longtime boyfriend, known as Ranboo. Today was their anniversary. Five years to be exact. The two of them were only 18, but they’ve known each other their whole lives, and they’ve been in love with each other for 6 years, that one year was spent silently pining over each other until the h/c teen mustered up the courage to actually confess.

“Oh my gosh, just call him and tell him you wrote him a song!” Tommy exclaimed, laying on his stomach across from his nervous friend. “It’s that simple.”

Y/n shook their head. “Shut up Tom, it’s not that simple. What do you know? You’ve never been in a steady relationship because you can’t get a girl to fall in love with you.”

“Woah! What the hell?” Tommy frowned and sat up. “What did I do?”

Y/n groaned and rubbed their hands over their face. “I’m sorry Tommy. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just…What if he doesn’t like it? What do I do then?”

Tommy didn’t answer right away, trying to find the right words to say so he wouldn’t say the wrong thing and risk getting another blow to his ego. Thinking back on it, he really didn’t know how much the two meant to each other. Him and Tubbo had asked how the two of them had gotten together one night when they were all at Tubbo’s house in England, back when they were still 17 and stupid, but the couple was pretty much vague when it came to their answers.

But the one thing he did know was that Ranboo loved Y/n, and Y/n loved Ranboo. That was enough for anybody wasn’t it?

“Well I know that Ranboo loves you.” Tommy talked slowly, trying to make his words sound a little more meaningful. He wasn’t good at things like this. Y/n would have gotten better advice if they went to Aimsey or Niki instead. Hell, even Billzo or Freddy would be better than him. “If it comes from you, Ranboo will love it. I know that much.”

Y/n peeked through their fingers. “You really think so? Seriously?”

Tommy nodded and held out the phone. Biting their lip, Y/n grasped the object between their fingers.

“Okay. I can do this.” The nervous teen went into their contacts and tapped on their significant other’s profile, pressing the call button and brought the device up to their ear. “It’s ringing.”

They waited and slightly winced at the beeping. “Oh…It went to voicemail.” Y/n informed the blond.

“Just say what you were going to say.”

The e/c person nodded. “Hey Boo, uh, it's me, Um, our anniversary is coming up, it's a pretty big one, and, um, I wrote a song for you. So I'm just leaving you this voicemail because, um, I want the song to begin with this voicemail…”

“...Um, so just, figure it out and text me the voicemail, um, immediately, if you wouldn't mind…Like, right when you get this. Thank you, um, I love you, bye.”

Ranboo smiled as he listened to his lover’s voice fill his ears. He was upset because he hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with Y/n. Ranboo had become increasingly busy with his streams while Y/n had spent more time on their album, just recently releasing outtakes and such.

Ranboo had not forgotten their anniversary but was slightly worried about it slipping Y/n’s mind, not that he would have minded too much, but he would be lying he said the thought wasn’t upsetting. So he knew he was lucky that she remembered.

That was the way their relationship worked. Ranboo was the hopeless romantic while Y/n was the realistic person. Ranboo was a live in the moment and Y/n was a plan ahead type. They balanced each other out and that’s why the couple was able to stay together so long. So with the way Y/n wasn’t big on affection all that much, it wasn’t a surprise she made a song, nevertheless, the thought could not be appreciated enough.

Y/n and Ranboo had been best friends since 5th grade, and the only reason it began was because Y/n had accidentally tripped Ranboo and he had been so forgiving, which was something that still confused the h/c teen to this current day and age.

Secrets have been shared between the two on late nights when it was school the next day. Secrets that they had originally vowed to take to the grave but allowed themselves to slip when speaking to the person who meant everything to the other.

They both had their problems, and they helped each other with their problems, whether it be mentally or physically. Ranboo had always had trouble with the way he looked, never liking his appearance. It had been something that he had confessed to Y/n around 2 years into their friendship. Y/n didn’t like the way other people perceived them, more often than not believing that they were a very tiresome person, and that people are usually annoyed with them.

The two of them were messes. Huge unlabeled weird messes. And even though together they were a bigger mess, it was a mess that just seemed to go unnoticed by most because it was so natural.

It’s been 5 years and things have not changed by much. The pair were still with each other, and things would not be changing anytime soon. Not a big change anyways.

It was around 10 pm at night, and Ranboo and Y/n had just finished a 5 hour long stream and they were starving from having not eaten anything all day, so they agreed on ordering some Chinese food. While Ranboo ordered for them, Y/n searched on tv for a show or movie that would occupy a good amount of time before their dinner arrived and chose to settle on some sitcom that was on its reruns.

The young couple sat on the couch, with Ranboo sitting near the armrest and Y/n right by him, letting their shoulders touch, eating their meal. Y/n was watching the people on the screen move and listening to them talk and the laugh track that would occasionally ring out.

Suddenly, Y/n’s attention was pulled away as Ranboo wordlessly reached over to her plate and grabbed a dumpling before popping it into his mouth. The e/c teen stopped her movements and stared at their boyfriend. Y/n scoffed and shook their head. Like, Ranboo didn’t even ask if he could. Yeah, they’re dating each other, but it should be a known fact that you do NOT take your significant other’s food unless you know they’ll be okay with it.

Ranboo stopped chewing as he caught Y/n’s gaze and stared at her questioningly. “Why are you looking at me like that? What the fuck did I do?”

The teen rolled their eyes. “You know, if you really wanted some dim sum then you should have gotten some when we place in the order dude.”

“You’re a psycho.” Ranboo jokingly told Y/n. “I don’t wanna fight, okay? So let’s just drop this, it’s not a big deal.” He turned back to the screen.

Y/n sighed, “Fine, but for the record you owe me a dumpling, I mean it, I won't forget. You owe me a dumpling or a dumpling equivalent.”

Ranboo bit his lip to stop himself from bursting out into laughter at his partner's words. It was really moments like this that made him love his best friend even more.

Ranboo walked across the slightly cluttered floor that had a few papers, pencils, and a couple sweaters scattered around. It is a calm day.

Or it was.

Y/n’s head snapped up when they heard Ranboo let out a loud screech, watching him clumsily jump on the couch, looking batshit terrified. “Hey what’s wrong!?”

Instead of answering, Ranboo shakily pointed at the ground. Confused, Y/n’s eyes followed his finger and saw the culprit. It was a fucking spider, and it was the size of a nickel.

Y/n let out a panicked gasp and clambered off the chair they were sitting on to stand on the coffee table. They swallowed the lump in their throat and looked at their boyfriend. “You should kill that.”

Ranboo looked Y/n in the eyes as he shook his head. “Um, no, fuck that.”

“Come on, be a man.”

“What?” Ranboo squinted his eyes. “You're a total anti-sexist, a patriarchy fighter. But your whole worldview collapses.The moment there's a spider.” He glanced back down at the eight legged creature. “I get it, this is the real you. It's a pleasure, nice to meet you.” Ranboo held his hand out for a handshake despite the fact that him and Y/n were like 4 feet apart. “Shit like this brings the movement down.”

Y/n scoffed. “Well, haven’t you heard the saying?”

Ranboo picked his head up again, “What saying?”

“Everyone's a feminist until there is a spider around.”

Y/n stood up from their spot on the couch and started walking towards the hall.

“Where are you going?” Ranboo asked from behind them.

“Just to the bathroom.” Faintly, Y/n could hear shuffling from the couch, but brushed it off, assuming Ranboo had gotten up for more popcorn or another drink or something. They were not expecting to be picked up by the waist and moved to the opposite side of where they were originally heading. “What the hell?”

Y/n turned back around in time to see Ranboo dart to the bathroom as well. “Hey! No! Don’t you dare!”

Getting a loud laugh in return, Y/n was unfortunately slower than the giant ass teen and ran into the door as Ranboo abruptly shut it. “Too slow!”

Y/n groaned and hit their head on the wooden door. “Bruh, why didn’t you just use the guest bathroom? This is why we have two bathrooms in the first place!” Y/n whirled around and stalked off, only pausing once to shout one more time. “And I know that you know!”

“It’s fun messing with you!”

“Fuck off!”

Y/n groaned and rubbed their eyes, trying to get all the eye crust off, still groggy from the long nap. They sat up, looking around the room, remembering that they had spent the night at Tommy’s since it was too late for Y/n to leave for the house that they and Ranboo shared.

Y/n sat up and picked up the note that was on the dresser. They recognized the sloppy handwriting as Tommy’s explaining that he had gone to the store and would be back soon, also explaining that there was food in the fridge if they were hungry.

They pushed the covers away and stood up, leaving the guest room and walking down the hall, coming out into the front room, seeing it empty. They moved over to the couch and sat down, leaning back against the cushions and pulling out their phone.

The silence that had taken over was interrupted by a knock on the door. Y/n groaned, standing up and walked over to the door, unlocking it and opening it, realizing at the last second that they should have at least looked out the peephole first. They got lucky though, seeing as it just turned out to be Ranboo.

Ranboo stood in front of his partner and smiled nervously. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Y/n breathed out, surprised he had shown up. “Sorry, come in.” They moved out of the way.

Ranboo strolled inside, glancing around the apartment. “Is Tommy here?”

“Umm, no, he’s out shopping. Who knows what he’ll come back with.” They chuckled. “What are you doing here?”

“It feels like we had a fight, even though we didn’t.” Ranboo mumbled. He held out his arms and pulled Y/n into his chest, breathing in their signature scent. “I know we haven’t had a lot of time for each other because we’ve both been busy with our own things, which also means we didn’t get to have our anniversary yesterday.” The words were muffled, but it was still easy enough for Y/n to understand.

“It’s no one’s fault.” Y/n whispered. “We can just hang out today, and go do something if you want.”

Ranboo shook his head. “No. No, I just want to be around you. I don’t want to do anything today, please.”

Y/n tightened their grip on their boyfriend. “Then we don’t have to. I promise.”

“I really loved the song.” Ranboo muttered gently.

Everything was silent between the two lovers. It was perfect even.

“Happy five years.”

[bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls]

not to be needy or demanding or anything, but i’m still super curious about more of your thoughts on musicals! you said you had at least 10 more and it’s pretty much all i’ve been thinking about the past two days! 🖤 (thank you for responding to the first one by the way 🥹)

I got busy!

The first time I heard of Julie Taymor, it was when she signed on for what would eventually become the legendary Broadway disaster Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark. I’m not sure, but I think my first Taymor movie was Titus with Anthony Hopkins. (I’ve also seen The Tempest with Helen Mirren as Prospero.) But the movie I’ve watched over and over? Across the Universe, her bold, flawed attempt to turn The Beatles’ oeuvre into something approximating a connected narrative. Evan Rachel Wood is adorably fucked-up —she’s the Jennifer Jason Leigh of her generation— and Jim Sturgess was pretty much born to bring charm to a patchwork character like Jude.

I cannot for the life of me figure out why my parents let me go see The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. I know they were teetering on the edge of divorce and were desperately looking for some Family Activity, but I feel like taking a tween and his little brother to a Dolly Parton/Burt Reynolds musical about cheerful, singing prostitutes was… a choice. I remember being told to cover my eyes every time a tit popped out, but that’s about all the curation they did. I’m being generous to call it a modest work, but Dolly is always a gem, and Burt had more screen charisma than just about anyone on the planet.

Bo Burnham: Inside is the only perfect thing made during the pandemic. It’s not easy to watch… even when it’s fun, it’s not. But the kid’s gifts are just off-the-charts, and he perfectly captures the vibe of 2020 in a series of catchy, depressing, hilarious songs.

I ignored Lin Manuel Miranda for a long time, and when I watched Moana, I felt justified in ignoring him… I almost snoozed through it. But when Disney+ released the recording of Hamilton and everyone else was watching it, I figured “what the fuck, join the herd.” So I did. And I was extremely disappointed for about thirty minutes. This oily little twerp can’t sing! What is this shit?! Then Renee Goldsberry raises her glass, the turntable spins backward, the narrative breaks free, and thirty minutes later, the oily little twerp with the thin voice had me crying. Sure, Jonathan Groff and Daveed Diggs steal the show over and over, but how could they not? LMM gave them gold, and they ran with it.

Jewison’s Jesus Christ Superstar is so fucking ‘70s, I almost feel slapped by all the bell-bottoms. And that fruity, goofy opening on the bus tested my twenty year old patience when I first saw it. But when Carl Anderson’s Judas came roaring on to the screen, I was hooked. Then I realized Yvonne Elliman —whose “If I Can’t Have You” is probably my favorite disco song of all time— was Mary Magdalene and “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” hit, so I was taken from “hooked” to “mesmerized”. I wasn’t instantly in love with Ted Neeley’s Jesus for much of that first viewing, but when he lets loose in Gethsemane… well… Jesus.

The Little Mermaid wasn’t the first musical I loved, but it was the first one I bought. I grew up in a time when Disney animation was basically garbage, with nothing meaningful being produced for decades… and then along came Ariel with her collection of forks, and that sonorous crab. When Disney released it at a then-unheard-of price of twentysomething bucks, I gave it a shot… over and over and over again.

My relationship with The Nightmare Before Christmas is trickier. I don’t deny that it’s good, and I grasp that it has dug its claws deep into the culture, but the music… it’s okay. It’s fun. But I seldom find myself humming a tune.

I’m not going to get all detailed about The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, or Aladdin. They were good. Ashman and Menken kicked ass. I’m not in love with any of them —“Hakuna Matata” was kinda run into the ground at the time— but I acknowledge their value.

I’m running out of steam here, and I’ve already raved about Encanto on the blog, so I’ll close with the thought that “Surface Pressure” is the best Disney song that isn’t about loving something, and it is perfect.

[wallpaper-inside-my-heart]

stellaaaa as i ruminate on mine tell me: who are your top 3 favourite bands/musicians? - katie

take your time @jovenshires😹💕

This is a super easy question for me tbh. And everyone who ever talked to me about music will know nr.1 and 2 for sure 😅 And most mutuals on tumblr could prob guess at least one of the two, since my url is based on the first; and I've made several posts about the 2nd 😹 (Spommy tv, my beloved)

The Amazing Devil ❤️

-> hands down, the best band of all time imo; I just love all of their stuff so much, both in terms of lyrics, voices and just the musical composition of their songs in general. And I would literally sell my first born child or whatever just to see them live one day 💚

2. Taylor Swift 💖

-> I will be fully honest and admit that it's only been a few years ago, that I fully started listening to her music. But I fell in love with it more and more and so far have accumulated literally over 600h of listening to her music on spotify, just this year 😅

3. Sleeping At Last 💙

I've loved this guy's music for years now! Especially his atlas 1 and enneagram albums! But this year I also listened to the podcast where he talks about the creation process behind a lot of his songs. and it's just so fascinating to hear about all the thought that goes into every little detail of his work!

Some honorable mentions, that I also listen to a lot:

Ed Sheeran (especially his albums this year, like dude's really going through it), Florence + the machine, Passenger, Bo Burnham

[storiesforallfandoms]

a different side ~ bo burnham

word count: 2611

request?: yes!

“A bo burnham fic‼️‼️ maybe they get drunk and cuddle on the couch and then things heat up and bo turns out to be very verbal and dominating?? Thanks 🙏”

description: in which a drunk night leads her to see an entirely different side of her sweet, goofy boyfriend

pairing: bo burnham x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral; m receiving, deepthroating, gagging, face fucking, drunk sex, rough fucking, face down ass up type thing, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, rough and dominant bo, reader is shocked but it is fully consentual)

masterlist (one, two)

Ever since you first met him, Bo was a sweet, goofy guy. He always knew how to put a smile on your face, and he was always incredibly kind and sweet towards basically everyone he met. He said his stage persona was fake on numerous occasions, but he did match that persona in more ways than he realized.

He was a sweet, Golden Retriever type of guy. Until the first night that you both got really drunk.

Bo had showed up to your apartment with a bottle of wine and some take out.

“I know you said you wanted to stay home because you had a load of work to do,” he said when you answered the door. “But I wanted to see you. So, I figured maybe we could have a date night in whenever you’re done with your work.”

He really knew how to make you smile and how to make your heart flutter.

“I may finish up now that you’re here. I really need some relaxation.”

“Well, I can help you with that.” He raised an eyebrow at you, suggestively. You giggled and stepped aside to let him in.

You finished up your work for the night and changed into some comfy clothes to join Bo in the living room. He had set out a blanket and the food as a little indoor picnic, and was pouring up two glasses of wine. He smiled at you and held out a glass to you.

You sat with him and the two of you started to talk about your days. You had been feeling swamped with your workload the past few days and you hadn’t been able to do much else besides trying to catch up on the workload. You were glad Bo had come over despite you having cancelled your usual date night.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to finish the bottle of wine Bo had brought. Your whole body felt light and tingly from the alcohol. You decided to get up and get the wine you already had in your fridge to keep the feeing alive. Another bottle later, and you and Bo were cuddling on the couch. You pressed a few kisses against his neck, earing you a few groans in response. In your inebriated daze, you felt pleasure in his responses. They fueled your desire to get more from him, so you continued to kiss over his neck.

“You better be careful, princess,” he said, his voice husky with the alcohol and lust.

You had never heard the pet name from Bo before. It caused a tingly feeling between your legs and you dared to ask, “Or else what?”

In an instant, Bo’s hands were grabbing you and pinning you down to the couch. You were taken by surprise and wasn’t sure how to react. Luckily, you didn’t have to because his lips were on yours, hungrily kissing you. You tried to wrap your legs around his waist to get some friction between the two of you, but he broke away from the kiss to push them away.

“If you want to kiss something, I’ll give you something to kiss,” he said.

Before you could ask what he meant, he had you off the couch and on your knees between his legs. He undid his pants and pulled his erect member free. It flopped against his stomach, standing at full attention for you. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, despite having seen his member many times before.

Bo touched your face. It was gentle at first; the touch you were used to feeling. But it became a bit more rough when he grabbed the back of your head and pulled it roughly towards his lap.

“Come on, princess,” he encouraged. “Get to kissing.”

You wasted no time in wrapping your lips around his tip. You were met with the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue. Bo’s head lulled back against the couch as he let out a moan. His hand was still on your head, now pushing it down so you were taking his entire length in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Take it all, princess.”

You did just that. You had him so far in your mouth you could feel him poking at the back of your throat. You were trying desperately not to gag, but the full feeling you had with him all the way in your mouth felt like too much. You tried to pull away as your stomach heaved from the gag, but Bo reached down and took hold of your head before you could fully take his length from your mouth.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. “I’m not done with that mouth yet.”

You looked up at him and saw his lust filled look. You could feel your panties becoming drenched with your own arousal. You wanted nothing more than to feel him take them off of you and to take you right there on the couch, but it was very evident that he had other plans in mind. He was preparing to use you to his own pleasure, whether you gained pleasure from it or not.

He held your head in place as his hips slowly began to thrust into your mouth. He was careful not to push it too far into your throat to cause you to gag again. That seemed more like him, a gentle lover who was careful to make sure that you were okay during the experience. But he was holding your gaze so you could still see the sexual aggression in his eyes. They were not the eyes of your gentle lover looking back at you, but rather a whole different side of Bo you had never seen before.

You were surprised with how Bo was acting, but you were even more surprised with how turned on you were with the whole scenario. You had never been treated like this sexually before. For the most part, you had been with some very respectful sexual partners who preferred to take things slow or to “make love” so to speak. Up until now, Bo had been like that as well. You had never even thought about being handled in a rough way like this, let alone whether or not you would like it.

But you did. You really, really liked it.

Bo continued to thrust into your mouth, pushing himself as far in as he could without gagging you before pulling out again. It was slow at first, just enough so he could really feel your warm mouth wrapped around him and your wet tongue pressed against the underside of his dick. But once you had made his dick wet enough for his liking, his thrusts started to pick up. His grip on your head tightened so you couldn’t pull away as he fucked your mouth. Drool began to seep from your mouth and drip down your chin. You let out an involuntary whimper, becoming more and more turned on by the way he was treating you.

“Oh, you like that, princess?” he asked. “You like it when I fuck your face like this? When I just use you as my little cum dumpster. Fuck, look at your fucked out face. I haven’t even put my dick inside of you yet and you already look like you’re worn out.”

You certainly did not feel worn out. You wanted him inside of you more than anything. Your panties were so wet you were almost certain there’d be a wet spot left on your pants. You tried to reach between your legs to relieve some of the pressure you were feeling, but Bo quickly took one hand from your face to stop you.

“No touching,” he said. “Not until I say so. Do you think you can handle that?”

Your eyes were wide and pleading. You shook your head, which only caused Bo to laugh.

“You’re such a little whore, aren’t you?” he taunted. “Can’t even control yourself long enough to let daddy fuck you.”

Daddy!

You let out another whimper at the newest pet name to be introduced. You wanted to try it out for yourself, but your mouth was still full with Bo’s dick.

“What was that, princess?” he asked.

He pulled his dick free from your mouth to finally allow you to speak. “Please daddy.”

“Oh, the little whore begs now,” he commented. “What is it you’re begging for, my little whore?”

“I-I n-need you to fuck me,” you said. “Please daddy, I need it so bad.”

“You need it? Or you want it?”

“Both!” you cried. “Please, I’m so wet.”

He pulled you to a stand in front of him. He reached his hand into the waistband of your pants, causing you to gasp as he ran a finger through your drenched folds.

“Oh my, you truly are wet.” You nearly whimpered again as he pulled his hand away from you. “I can’t let my princess be unsatisfied, can I?”

You shook your head vigorously, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Bo stood, towering over you. You were always in awe at his height and you loved to be able to look up at him. But now, there was something more to that height. It was almost intimidating. You weren’t sure what he was going to do next.

You yelped as he roughly pushed you down onto the couch, positioning your body so that your head was down in the cushions and your ass was in the air. He made quick work of removing your pants and underwear, leaving your lower half completely bare to him. You felt the couch dip as Bo knelt behind you, and you gasped as you felt the warmth of his tip gliding through your folds.

“You’re so wet, I don’t even have to lube myself up,” he commented. “It’s almost like your body is preparing for me to fuck you into oblivion.”

You moaned in response at his comment. Your head was so blank you didn’t even think you could form a coherent sentence.

Bo continued to tease your clit for a little while until you were practically backing yourself into him, your body begging him to be inside of you. The feeling of his tip pushing through your opening and his dick slowly filling you sent a wave of pleasure through your body and you already felt like you could cum. You weren’t sure how you were going to last through what he was planning to do to you.

Unlike when he was fucking your face, Bo didn’t start slow. He placed a hand between your shoulder blades to hold you in place as he began to roughly thrust into you. The sound of skin slapping against one another and your combined moans and groans was the only thing filling the room. He was so rough that you were sure you could feel the couch moving beneath you. If you were in your right mind you’d probably be worried about the couch breaking, but you were so far from being in your right mind.

As expected, it didn’t take long for you to cum around him. You screamed out in pleasure, your hands gripping the couch beneath you as you came so hard you saw stars and started to pant. Bo murmured words of praise into your ear as he kept mercilessly thrusting into you, your juices dripping down his length onto his balls and then onto the couch. Your legs were already feeling wobbly and you were ready to flop down, but Bo wasn’t done with you yet.

He put an arm under your belly, holding you up in the position he wanted as he used his other hand to guide your hips back into him. “You can’t tap out yet, princess. I’m not ready to be done with you. You just have to hold on a little bit longer.”

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to, but you knew you would have to until Bo was done with you.

He held you in place like a fuck toy, and you were truly starting to feel that way. Despite the protests of your body, you still felt incredibly pleasured as he continued to fuck your cunt sore and puffy. Before you knew it, you could feel a pressure growing in your lower stomach again and you knew you were about to hit your second orgasm.

“I-I’m g-gonna cum,” you told him. “I-I don’t th-think I can l-last much longer, daddy.”

“It’s okay, princess. I’m getting close, too. Can you wait for me so we can cum together?”

You weren’t sure you could, but you tried your hardest for him. He held on to your hips with both hands and managed to fuck you harder than he had before somehow. You were screaming out in pleasure with every rough thrust and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t control yourself any longer and your orgasm took over. Feeling your walls tighten around him, Bo let out a long groan and you felt his warm seed coating the inside of your walls.

You were panting and coated in sweat when Bo slowly pulled out of you. You whimpered as the cool air touched your sore pussy. You could feel him dripping out of you and onto the couch. You made a mental note to absolutely bleach the couch clean whenever you got the chance. Or to burn it completely.

You finally collapsed onto your stomach, but you didn’t stay there for long. You felt Bo’s arms pick you up and hold you bridal style as he carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down in your bed and you both took off your shirts, deciding to be completely naked to cuddle and come down from your mutual highs.

Bo got you a cloth to clean you and himself off before he slid into bed next to you. He took you into his arms. You winced a little as your aching body rolled into him and your legs pushed together on your sore cunt. It was throbbing, but it wasn’t painful.

“I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?” he asked. Every ounce of the dominant, rough man that had fucked the life out of you moments before was gone. You were almost shocked by the sudden change.

“No,” you said. “Okay, actually my body is a little worn and my pussy is throbbing, but I wouldn’t consider it pain. It felt good.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “Okay, at least it felt good.”

“I’m very surprised though. Where did that come from?”

His cheeks turned bright red, almost like he was embarrassed. “Well...I mean...I’ve kind of always had that side of me. I didn’t want to show it because we’re still so new in this relationship and I didn’t want you to get afraid of me or anything. But...I think the alcohol just brought it out tonight. And then you were kissing my neck and it felt so good, and I just...didn’t want to stop myself. I was afraid you wouldn’t like it, and I would’ve stopped then, but it seemed like you thoroughly enjoyed that side of me.”

“Oh, I more than enjoyed it. In fact, I’d love to see more of that side of you if you’d be willing to show me more.”

"I’ll show you all you want to see, princess.”

And that one word caused the throb between your legs to become a dull ache, begging to feel Bo inside of you and to ruin you once again.

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

I think Alastor is consistently disturbing and fascinating and I love him.

I find it interesting half of his room is dedicated to where he not only dumped the bodies of his victims when he had been alive, but also the spot where he died in a way somebody as up his own ass would find humiliating; mistaken by a hunter for a deer and shot dead like an animal. Yet he thrives there and he feast on deer and stags.

I love how there isn’t a way to tell what he actually wants. He could just be dicking around with no actual plans and not want others to know this or else it shows weakness or he could be up to something big that will reveal itself later on in the season.

Also in horror there is always this issue of the more you show the monster the less scary they become until they are just some guy who looks funky.

That problem hasn’t happened with Alastor for me. Even though he does very little and hasn’t really done anything horrifying he still isn’t mundane and he hasn’t lost the threat of what he is and what he can do. His little moments of rage or vague threats just add a reminder of what a danger he is.

I also really love how sinner demons like Alastor who have been in Hell for centuries or decades tend to stick with their way of dress and speaking they had when they died which makes sense for a lot of them. While others like Vox seem to be able to change and adjust with the way time flows on Earth and update accordingly.

I also really love while American Gods had media as a God this show has Radio and TV as demons because it can be a toss up and honestly Vox feels like the Bo Burnham song Welcome to the Internet where it feels boppy and harmless but also shows the danger to technology and the influence it can have.

And Vox does have a hold on Hell, he created a lot of the tech and apps and websites we see in both Hazbin and Helluva, he has control over the masses but as Alastor pointed out it is limited. Vox can not control his emotions; he panics easily, becomes angry and hysterical, he lies constantly and is constantly on the cusp of people turning on him for it.

Alastor on the other hand is the radio. He is the smooth calming reassuring voice on a device that can run without power, that is a constant presence that lulls you into a comfort of “you can always trust me” because he speaks calmly, he isn’t erratic in the way Vox often is. And that is what can make radio a dangerous tool.

I also love between this and Devil’s Carnival I love two depictions of Hell that involve circuses.

[fafi-and-oblivia]

Workaholic

Onion x MC

(Written by: Fafi <3)

Onion leaned back, sighing uncomfortably. He stretched his limbs and cracked his fingers before hunching over his work again, Onion lost track of time frequently during his most busy weeks, and this was no exception. This usually meant he had skipped meals, often not moving from his desk unless it was for the bathroom or to sleep, but now that was different due to a recent change in his life. He heard soft-footed steps come up behind him before a set of hands lightly rested on his shoulders. He willingly embraced the touch, resting back against his chair. Slow but firm thumbs sank into the knots that worked their way into his back from hours of tireless work releasing his pent-up tension. He gave a relaxed, drawn-out groan. He let his head fall onto the back of his chair, eyes closed, relishing the moment. After a few moments, he felt the hands leave but only for a few seconds before two fingers settled on either side of his jaw soothingly, rubbing gently as to not cause pain. Then a soft kiss was placed to his forehead, hands holding either side of his face. As the warmth of the kiss pulled away he let his eyes flutter open delicately. He was met with familiar [eye color] as he stared up at his partner with nothing but adoration and love. It was rare to see him this peaceful, this vulnerable,

“you need anything.?” your voice rang through the calm, tranquil atmosphere, breaking the silence. He hummed in thought, eyes falling closed again wrapped up in the way your hands felt on his cheeks as your thumbs glided gently across his skin. He would never admit he lived for moments like these, it made all the hard work he did feel worth it, he had someone special he needed to provide for. You let the silence hang in the air another moment before speaking up again. “I have dinner in the kitchen, why don't you take a break for a little while and if you like we could go for a walk after we are done.”

He opened his eyes again with a smile, “that sounds lovely mi alma.” There is love laced in his words as he spoke to you. Even if a plan was agreed upon neither of you made an effort to move, looking deep into each other's eyes like there was nothing outside this bubble of quietude you both created in this moment. Then without missing a beat he reached a hand up placing it behind your neck and pulled you down softly into a soul binding kiss. Pulling away he looked into your eyes a second or two longer almost entranced before finally pushing back his chair coolly. Predicting his movements you stepped back to give him room heading towards the door and stopping to look back at him. Now up he walks over to you with easy bliss. As he approaches you extend a hand to him and he slips his hand into yours intertwining your fingers loosely into one anothers heading out of the room. Work wouldn't need to be as disheartening if you were there to remind him to care for himself.

Hello, Fafi here! Hope you enjoyed the lil fanfic, been a long time since posting but happy to be back after the long holidays with some content! (insert Bo Burnham's song; Content LMFAO)Apologies for any errors as well, that's all for now see yall next time!

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 20: The Chicken

Word Count: 4k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: NO REAL HARM HAS BEEN DONE TO JUDY I PROMISE, swearing, cheating/infidelity, smoking, domestic abuse, crying, soft and fluffy javi, giving javi shit is my favorite past time, unprotected PIV sex, clitoral stimulation, jealousy, pregnancy test, pregnancy in general, what's in the fucking box, motherfucker is scheming

Chapter Summary: Our heroes have tunnel vision as they finally come to an agreement on an important decision.

Notes: Chapter title from "The Chicken" by Bo Burnham. Things are happeniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing with our main character and Javi, y'all. How exciting! And terrifying!! I'm gonna be sappy for a second here. This story almost has 100 kudos on AO3 and I almost have 100 followers here, which might not seem like a big deal, but it's very exciting to me. Because of mental health things and stuff, I didn't write for over a decade before I started this story. I honestly love it so much, and every day I'm grateful that any one single person that wants to read any one single thing I write. It's been incredible. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I appreciate you more than you could know. And I can't wait to write more, even when this story is over (probably Pedro fics because I'm a sucker for his characters). Anywho. Back to our regularly scheduled programming!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

151 Fir St N, Laredo, TX July 27, 1998

“What’s wrong?” Javi answers when he picks up on the second ring.

Momentarily, you wonder how he knows something is wrong. Then you realize it’s not even 8 am on a Monday morning, which is an unusual time for you to call. Also, you haven’t talked to him since you both departed your house yesterday morning, despite his urging you to call when you got back from the airport. It really wasn’t intentional, though. When you returned, you were so overwhelmed by what you found, it sent you ass over teakettle mentally, until… well, until now.

“Gone,” your voice is warped and nasally when you respond, “My paintings, my movies, my art supplies. He got rid of it all. An- an- and- Fuck, Javi, Judy is gone.” your body shakes as you heave a deep breathe inward, exacerbating the aching in your chest. It summons a fresh well of hot tears, and you choke out, “She’s gone. It’s all gone. Who fucking does that?”

“You don’t know what he did with her, I assume?” his voice remains neutral and steady.

“No,” you squeak, inhale a shattered breath, then try to talk through your ugly crying, “I t-tried to talk to him, ask him what he did with her, but h-he looks right through me like I don’t even exist.”

Javi is silent on the other end. Probably occupied by the gears turning in his head as he tries to get a grasp on the situation.

You, on the other hand, have been stewing in the wake of Dan’s actions for almost 24 hours, and your thoughts on the matter are spilling out of your mouth with vitriol, “It’s a punishment. He took the only things I liked in this fucking hell hole, and he fucking knows it. He wants me to be miserable.”

Javier responds to your bitter assumptions with a softly spoken question, “What do you want to do?”

Not a demand. Not a decision made on your behalf. Just…

What do you want to do?

“I want to see you,” you whimper as his delicacy soothes the anger flaring within you, “I don’t want to be here.”

So he drops what he’s doing to come pick you up.

When he gets to your house, he finds you moping in a blanket burrito on the couch. Your eyes are red and puffy, staring at one of Judy’s toys on the floor. Wordlessly, he sinks into the couch and beckons you closer. The stagnant tears resume when you unwrap yourself and climb into his lap. He holds you tight, burying his nose in your hair as you work through this wave of grief. When your breath starts to settle, he murmurs, “You wanna get out of here?”

You sniffle and nod, then get up to get your purse.

—

“I’m going to be pretty busy today, but just help yourself to whatever you need, ok?” Javi informs you gently. You’re tangled together in his bed, lulled into a sense of security as you cuddle. The thump-thump that powers his body sounds beneath your ear, hypnotizing you as you write love notes on his belly. He’s playing with your hair and watching your fingers dance across him.

“Does Pickles have to work, too, or can he stay with me?” you murmur.

“He has to work,” he squeezes your shoulder sympathetically as he breaks the news, then resumes playing with your hair.

You blow a raspberry, “That’s ok. I’ll probably just take a nap. I couldn’t sleep last night. Maybe I’ll snoop through your room for a book or something.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, smiling down at you.

“If that’s ok with you. Is there any area I need to avoid?” you ask, wiggling around to make eye contact with him.

He frowns and raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I mean, like… are there any places or things in your room that you consider private? Just so I don’t accidentally, you know, invade your privacy,” you stumble.

He hums in acknowledgment, then tilts his head as his eyes search the room, finally admitting, “There’s a notebook in my nightstand. I write notes to people that I never send, things I’m trying to process, stuff like that.”

This brings a huge smile to your face. You stroke his sandpapery cheek and coo, “I love that.”

“Everything else is fine, but that’s something I’d prefer no one read,” he runs a hand over his face and shrugs, and you swear you can see him blush.

“Noted,” you trace his lips with your thumb as you hum the song stuck in your head, then stop and chuckle, “No pun intended.”

He looks down to your mouth, then meets your eyes and quirks an eyebrow. Your fingers ghost down to his chin and you pull him in for a kiss. It’s delicate and it lingers sweetly on your lips. When he pulls back and sighs, you know that he’s bidding you farewell.

You pout, “Do you have to go?”

The pad of his thumb scrapes against your cheek, then he rumbles, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Once you hear the back door slide shut, announcing his departure, you stand up and tiptoe over to his desk, eyeing a stack of books. A black ballpoint pen lies across the page of an open notebook. Javier’s cursive handwriting is scrawled on the page. Angular, sharp, and heavy handed. Practically illegible, but you can make out most of the words.

How fitting.

You flip to the next page and doodle a cartoon version of the two of you holding hands. Maybe the next time he’s sitting here, brain buried in a cold case or writing letters or whatever, he’ll turn the page and it will make him smile. With a sigh, you flip the page back, hiding your gift to him. Focus returns to the book stack. You grab one that catches your eye, then burrow under his covers.

The bedroom door squeaks open a few hours later, when you’ve burned through a considerable portion of the book, getting lost in the tale of a retired FBI agent turned private detective solving a mystery in a small Colorado town. Your stomach feels sour and angry, but you’ve had moderate success distracting yourself with the novel. You save your spot as he sits at the edge of his bed and asks, “How are you doing?”

“Emotionally? Better. Physically? I feel like I’m on day 2 of a hangover,” you groan and roll onto your side to face him, clutching your belly and mumbling, “It’s so comfy in your bed, though. Smells like you. I like it. And I’m getting super into this book.”

He hums, closing your hand in his as he eyes the book, rubbing a thumb against you affectionately, “The Corpse of Cloud Creek.”

“It’s really corny, but I need to know what happens.”

“I’m hooked on those old mystery novels. Just finished that one, actually,” he admits, then squeezes your hand, “You hungry?”

It dawns on you that you haven’t felt like eating since yesterday, which is probably why you’re so fucking nauseated. Or maybe it’s because you’ve been crying for what seems like forever. Or both. You sit up and wince as your head spins, “Yeah I definitely need to eat something.”

After lunch, you mosey around the ranch with your sketchbook and pencil (the only remaining art supplies you own), stopping to draw things that catch your eye, while the Peñas keep themselves busy. Every once and a while you wander into the barn to check in with Javi and see if they need anything, helping out when the stubborn men actually let you. When Javi comes to tell you he’s done for the day, you’re sitting on the bough of a tree, sketching a baby cow who’s frolicking in the pasture.

“What the fuck are you doing up there?” he squints up at you from the base of the sprawling oak tree, shading his eyes from the sun.

You peer down at him and shrug, “Drawing. It’s nice up here, come see.”

“You want me to climb a fucking tree?” he raises his eyebrows at you and plants his hands on his hips.

“If your jeans are too tight to climb a tree, you can just say that, baby, it’s ok,” you tease from your perch.

The way he looks up at you makes you burst out laughing. Just… mouth agape, tongue in cheek, eyebrows raised as far as they go. He tries to formulate an adequate response to your shit talking, but comes up short.

You cover your giggling face with your hand then call down with a coo, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, then, out of (what has to be) pure spite, he climbs up the tree to sit next to you. The old oak tree is wide and rambling with thick boughs, strong enough to support a dozen more people. He peaks over at your sketchbook and his arm slips around your waist. You feel his lips and mustache press against your bare shoulder, making your heart skip a beat.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks, voice low and quiet, words tickling your skin as they exit his mouth.

You slide your pencil into the spine of your sketchbook and turn to him with a defeated sigh, “I’m dreading going back there, if I’m being honest.”

“My offer still stands,” his thumb rubs against your side. His eyebrows are drawn together. Puppy dog eyes looking up at you, tugging at your heart strings.

As you bite the inside of your cheek, you stare down at your bare feet dangling in the air, “Did you mean it, though?”

“Of course I did, cariño,” he huffs, then tilts your chin so you meet his eyes, “Trust me.”

You search his face and listen to the reaction within yourself. Where you expect to hear a pessimist scolding you for even considering this… there’s only a soft-spoken plea for you to take a leap of faith.

Trust him.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, then you nod, “Ok. Ok, yes, let’s do it.”

151 Fir St N, Laredo, TX July 29, 1998

“It’s open!” you holler from the kitchen, projecting your voice towards the front door. A blast of heat slaps the shit out of your face when you open the oven to pull out the hotdish. The front door swings open, closes, then a moment later Javi walks into the kitchen, holding a bouquet of white roses, lavender, and white gardenias.

You smile from ear-to-ear, pulling off your oven mitts to accept the gift. His hands cup your cheeks as he draws his lips to yours in a kiss hello. When he tries to pull away, you set the flowers on the counter and then wrap your arms around his neck to bring him close again, arching your back towards him. There’s heat in the kiss, velvet tongue running along yours as he backs you against the kitchen counter. He helps you up onto it so you can wrap your legs around him.

Your fingers slide from his neck to his chest, then start unbuttoning his shirt, lips never leaving his. He shrugs the shirt off completely and you splay your fingers across his chest, humming with contentment, savoring the heat from his body on your palms. A tug at your shirt reminds you that it’s your turn, so you reluctantly pause the making out to pull the shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor.

He pulls you against his chest, and your heart flutters. Endorphins flood your brain as you register the warmth of his body against yours, quenching your thirst for skin-to-skin contact. He smells like the love of your life, and you inhale deeply before meeting his gaze and recognizing the molten need in his eyes. The sound of his ragged breath is all you can hear. It’s all you want to hear.

You close your lips on his neck, latching on to the sensitive skin. There’s a rumble deep in his throat as he tips his head to allow better access, which you greedily accept, digging your heels in to get closer to him. You flatten your tongue against his collarbone, licking up his jugular, relishing the salty bite of sweat on your tongue. He gasps and buries a hand in your hair, then uses his grip to leverage your mouth against his again.

“Fuck me,” you whisper between messy kisses.

He licks the words from your mouth and mumbles, “Hello to you, too,” as if he isn’t already yanking your pants off. The buckle of his belt rings out in the otherwise quiet kitchen, and he shuffles his pants off, throwing them in a pile on the linoleum. Now you’re both nude in your kitchen. There’s something intimate about it that you adore. Conversely, the utter depravity of being openly fucked by your lover on the kitchen counter makes your skin flush and your pussy clench.

Goosebumps prick your skin when his fingers slide around your waist and the head of his cock nudges at your entrance, smearing around your slick.

“Fuck, Javi,” you breathe into him, drawing your eyebrows together, seconds away from begging him to do it. He holds his lust-blown eyes steady on yours as he sinks in, splits you open, soft moans fluttering from his lips while your face contorts with pleasure. Your nerve endings light up inside and bliss flows through you, head to toe, like a river.

A few languid thrusts warm you up and adjust you to his size before you rut your hips against his impatiently, trying to shift him into second gear. He reads your needy body language and skips it completely, then starts to fuck you fast and hard. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders as you shudder, shockwaves of ecstasy amplifying throughout your body. A sick wet slapping sound echos off the walls, adding fuel to your desire, making you writhe and whine. His thumb finds your clit and starts to thrum at a steady pace.

“Jesus, fuck- oh that’s so fucking good,” you breathe.

He groans your name and whispers in a rumble, “You like how I fuck you, baby girl?”

Your mouth is ajar as you look up through your eyelashes, into his hot black eyes, and nod frantically, “I do, fuck, I love it-“

“If I ever see another man touching you again, I’ll cut his fucking hands off and shove them down his throat,” he growls. This must be something he’s been holding close to his chest, avoiding since he witnessed Dan kissing and touching you. You remember the tortured way he fought with himself when he saw it. Like he was holding back from doing exactly what he explains now.

The sudden possessiveness makes the fire inside you grow, rippling from your pussy to your ears, making them ring. You let your head hang loosely back as you start to babble, “N- nobody touches me but you. I don’t let him touch me, Javi, I’m yours.”

A shudder racks your body, and you tilt your pelvis at an angle that allows his cock to rub against that perfect fucking spot that makes you sweat and pant. He groans and curses under his breath.

The low hum of static electricity in your belly grows louder, pulling whimpers from your throat. He’s working at exactly the right frequency and speed, and he breathes against your lips, “That’s right, you’re mine. My cariño. My princess. My baby girl. My little slut. Isn’t that right?”

Moans bubble out of you as you nod and gasp, “Fuck yes, that’s right-“

His lips cut you off, catching your whimpers in his mouth when he rolls his tongue against yours. You promise him between messy kisses, “I- I love you. No one- no one else- touches me- if you want me- that way-”

The buzzing of passion starts to boil over, expanding from that spot deep in your center, flooding into every corner of your being, then your body contracts and convulses around him, milking him dry as he spills inside you with a choked moan.

The rigid muscles in your bodies start to liquefy and you feel gelatinous as you soak in the post-orgasm closeness of his heaving chest pressing against yours. Your ear on his pulse, you hear the frantic thumping slow to a regular rhythm. Even then you don’t want to let him go. He kisses your forehead, causing you to stir. When you look up at him, he’s smiling down at you boyishly, “Hi.”

The smile travels to your dazed face and you respond with a drowsy, “Hi.”

“Smells good in here, what did you make?”

“Tater tot hotdish,” you answer. He offers a hand to help you down off the counter, which you reluctantly take, then he assists you in getting dressed again. You know he’s trying to keep you on schedule, but you secretly wish he would have stayed there, glued against you, forever. His ability to calm your body and soul just by pressing his body to yours, as if he’s a healing stone, never fails to astonish you. Once you’re both decent, you point to a cupboard, “Hey can you grab a vase out of there for me, please?”

“For the flowers?”

You nod in response and thank him when he does as you asked, picking a simple clear bouquet vase. He grabs your kitchen sheers and starts trimming the bottoms of the stems off. While he’s doing that, you cut portions of the hotdish, set out plates and forks, then go to the turntable to sift through your record collection.

“Fleetwood Mac ‘Rumors’ or Etta James ‘At Last!’?” you ask as he’s setting the beautiful blooms into the vase.

“Oooh tough choice,” he sucks his teeth, placing his hands on his hips, “Etta James.”

“You got it, handsome.”

Javi pads silently across the linoleum floor as you put the record on, and you jump in surprise when his hands slip around your waist from behind you.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, lips parted as they press against your pulse. A shiver trembles down your back and you lay your hands on top of his. His hips sway to the music and you follow his lead, letting the melody slip from your lips as you sing along quietly, “And my heart cried, ohhh- ohhhh- ohh, I love you so…”

When the song fades out, you take a deep breath, so content being here in his arms.

It’s been a difficult last couple of days. This is the last night you’ll sleep in this house. You’ve spent all day going through your belongings to figure out what comes with you tomorrow morning. Every moment here is spent in suspense, hoping you’re not here long enough for Dan to hurt you more. But right now, you feel safe because you’re wrapped up in Javier like your favorite blanket. You’re home.

—

After dinner, you smoke a cigarette as the sun sets. The vivid cerulean sky transforms, a moving oil painting of amber, coral, indigo, and sapphire, spotted with rosy cotton candy clouds. Cigarette smoke wafts into your face, and your nose crinkles as the stench churns your stomach. You grind the offending party against the ground.

“What’s on your mind?” Javi asks. The two of you are lying out in a matching pair of folding beach chairs, smack dab in the middle of the back yard.

The question settles in your belly like a brick, and you proceed clumsily, “I’m nervous. I have to pack so much shit still. I really need to find my car title and birth certificate,” you sigh, “And, you know, just… I feel like he’s not, um, going to take this well.”

There’s that other thing that’s been gnawing away at you, though. The thing that feels like a brick in your belly.

When you went to take you birth control pill on Monday, you realized you were three days into sugar pills without getting your period. With everything that’s been happening, you figured it was just delayed. You’ve felt like shit since Sunday, which you could dismiss as a hangover for one day, maybe two… but it’s been four days of nausea and aversion to particular scents and tastes.

This afternoon, you couldn’t stand not knowing any more, so you took a break from packing and went to a drug store. The cashier, some tiny old bluehair with a southern accent more Mississippi than Texas, gave you a knowing smile, all acrylic and porcelain, as she rang up the 2-pack of pregnancy tests. You read and re-read the instructions as you paced up and down your hallway, telling yourself that just because the test indicated two lines right away, it might change. After all, the box says to wait five minutes after peeing on the stick.

You waited the five minutes. Then five more, just in case. The results didn’t change. Two lines. Pregnant.

Another test. Another two lines. Pregnant.

“Oh, fuck me,” you sighed out loud to yourself, then tossed them in the trash can and washed your hands.

Everything you know about Javi suggests that he will probably react positively, and maybe even be excited if you’re pregnant. But like. Fuck. Fuck. He didn’t want it to be like this. He didn’t want to go this fast. Fucking birth control pills. You want to tell him and it’s eating you alive, but tell yourself that maybe you should keep your thoughts to yourself for once. At least wait until you’re done packing up and leaving your fiancé. This is a lot all at once.

“It’ll all work out, don’t worry,” he extinguishes his cigarette in the grass.

Once inside the house again, you start rummaging through boxes in the office to find your car title and birth certificate. There’s a shoe box labeled “Computer Stuff” that you pull from a shelf in the closet. It seems like it won’t have the documents, because it’s a fucking shoe box labeled computer stuff, but you have a habit of putting things in weird places, so you open the lid anyway.

A lightening bolt shoots through your heart.

Money. Thousands of dollars. A passport, which you open. It has Dan’s photo in it, but the name adorned on it is Robert McCaffery. There’s a second passport, with your photo in it. Melissa McCaffery.

“What the fuck,” you whisper.

Javi glances up from the file cabinet he’s flipping through and furrows his brow, “What?”

You tilt the box so he can see. He stands up with a grunt and takes it from you, sifts through its contents, then tosses it down on the computer desk and stares at it like it contains a riddle. And, you suppose, it does. He runs his hands over his face.

“Whattaya think?” you cross your arms in front of yourself and study his face.

“I think that box fucking reeks to high heaven,” Javi scoffs, then shrugs, “You should take the money and that counterfeit passport, though.”

“You think he’ll know?”

“Yeah, but who gives a shit? How much money did he take from your bank account?”

You chew the inside of your cheek. Javi kneels down by the file cabinet and continues to search, dismissing the weird shoe box. You turn to him, “Why the fuck would he have a fake passport and a stash of money?”

“I can think of a few reasons, and they’re all bad news,” he mutters, “Not going to be your fucking problem soon, though,” then he pulls out a piece of paper from the file cabinet, “Birth certificate,” then a second paper, “title to your car. What’s next?”

You consult your mental checklist, trying to push aside the image of the box filled with cash and fake identification, not knowing how fucking critical it would be for you to do exactly the opposite.

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