and the title is dumb


Every song recommened by Namjoon for the first half of 2017 #RMusic

i. by your side - sade / ii. track 3 - 이소라 / iii. 행복해 보이는 사람처럼 - 빌리어코스티 / iv. running back - wale ft. lil wayne / v. cave me in - gallant x tablo x eric nam/ vi.  바람 (2015) - Zion.T / vii. know me - scott quinn / viii. delicate - scott quinn / ix. gajah - gaeko ft. rap monster / x. U - H.E.R / xi. young - the chainsmokers / xii. love - kendrick lamar ft. zacari / xiii. lust for life - lana del rey ft. the weeknd / xiv.  오늘 취하면 - suran ft. changmo / xv. 12 seconds - nell / xvi. 민들레 - 우효 / xvii. 나랑 아니면 - 검정치마 /  xviii. night call - steve aoki ft. lil yachty & migos / xix. undercover angel - JJ72 

[ listen ]

if the gems had tumblrs
  • steven: cute instagram photos of food, dragon ball nostalgia, and lost pet signal boosts
  • amethyst: ugly instagram photos of food, postmodern pseudoironic meme hell, avatar would be a photo of a screaming possum
  • pearl: austere photography in spare pastel colors, gardening tutorials, pictures of sand
  • garnet: empty blog with default theme; title says "garnet"
The Thirst Order’s Greatest Hits Collection!


Lo is known, I think, primarily for her Kylux/Reader work, so I’ve included one of those, here—but she has great work outside of that, too. Her work gets straight to the fucking (hohoho) point and is just excellent smutty fun.

Whenever I Want: This is a Kylo Ren/Hux/Reader threesome—and it’s one of those that, despite me not being into Hux, like, at all, I find myself still thinking about.  I think that alone is a testament to its hotness—but it also has some good, nasty shit like cum-sharing and snowballing.

Kylo Gets Off: The title is self-explanatory. We all love Kylo Ren jerking off. But getting nearly 1000 words of it is such a blessing. He jerks off to the thought of fucking Hux and Reader at the same time. Usually I don’t like sharing someone’s fantasy spotlight, but I love this.

Punishment: I’ve recc’d this before on, like, two other lists, but I won’t stop reccing it, because I love it so much. This was, I think, one of the first sub!Kylo fics I read and loved. I still think about the line, “It’s so good,” he answered. “So warm and fucking wet…” Like, kill me please.


If you’re looking for weird stuff, sad stuff, or bloody stuff, Jinx is your girl. Not only does she have unique takes on certain AUs—her writing is fantastic. Her descriptive language is dark and poetic and beautiful.

A Full Confession: Okay, this seems self-aggrandizing, but hear me out. Almost all of the ideas in this fic, and a ton of the gorgeous/tongue-in-cheek imagery come from her. It’s easily some of her best writing, and you’d be doing yourself a disservice not to check it out for that reason.

Exposed: I really love vampires. I really love Kylo Ren. So why not both? This is the answer to that question. Good imagery, hot sex. Is there any more we can ask for from a Vampire!Kylo fic?

The Angst Files, Chapter 3: All of the chapters in this collection are great, but this one is a favorite. Not only for the idea of Kylo Ren getting hard from his own tears, but the sex is visceral, too. A Sad Boy Sex Hall of Famer, for sure.


Maybe even more than she loves writing Kylo Ren, Beth loves writing Ben Solo. Her Ben Solo work is fantastic, and I’ve included one of my faves. Her smut is raunchy and her dirty talk is nasty as fuck. She pulls no punches.

Frozen NSFW: Beth will probably kill me for putting this here, but oh well, I’ll face death bravely. Frozen NSFW is a fantastic collection of dubcon/noncon scenes as Reader navigates her life as Kylo Ren’s new sex slave. And Kylo is just… an asshole. A hot, sexy, asshole.

Solidarity: I’ve recc’d this before, too, but, look. I said this was the greatest hits, goddammit. The sequel to another piece she so thoughtfully wrote for me, you’ll find doggy-style dubcon inside. I frequently think about the line, “Fuck this is the perfect little cunt. I think I need this to greet me at the end of every day.” Christ.

A Hasty Landing: Just one of many great Ben Solo pieces, this is one of my faves because of the intimacy and heat captured. I love the way Ben is written—snarky and naughty and fun.


It was hard narrowing down the list of Fae’s fantastic works to just three. There’s so much by her that I truly love. She’s incredible at laying down themes in even the shortest one-shots, her characterization is always engaging, and her imagery is unique and evocative.

On the Desk: I’ll be honest. I’ve probably gotten off to this thing like five or six times. Professor AUs are hot, but this is just beyond everything I could want from one. Professor Ren is dirty as hell.

Okay, Fine: No smut in this—but it’s one of my favorites. A twist on the sweetness of a Coffee Shop AU, this fic instead features  an antagonistic relationship between Kylo (in his triplet form) and Reader. Enemies to Lovers, perhaps? Great dialogue, great characterization, great narrative. It’s good-feelsiest fic around.

Don’t Tell Kylo: In this fic, you’re double-teamed by Organa Solo triplets Ben and Matt. This fic is a perfect hallmark of Fae’s style—it’s hot with a consistent thematic foundation and strong emotions.


Because Kat is known most widely for Love is a Four Letter Word, I wanted to take this time to point out a few of their other excellent works. Kat’s narrative style is so immediate and engaging, and their language has the ability to drag tears of out of me, which is, like, unheard of.

All Tied Up: This work is heavy noncon. Reader is kidnapped by the twisted triplets and horrible things happen. You should absolutely not read this if it isn’t your thing, but I could not fail to recommend it because if it is your thing, it’s fucking hot as hell, and you’ll love it.

On Display: Reader is fucked against a window by Kylo Ren, an officer gets off to the show. Exhibitionism/voyeurism are one of my big kinks, and this piece just… hits all the right spots. One of my faves.

Infraction:  In relative terms of the Kylo Ren fandom, this piece is older. But it’s still one of the hottest in my memory. It has one of my favorite lines in fanfiction ever: “Yes, you would. You’d never leave, the only thing you’d ever have to do is get fucked.”  *SWEATS*


I’m going to imagine Tora will be shocked I even included her, but she hardly gives herself enough credit. She’s been the only person who’s managed to get me to enjoy Hux outside of a Kylo/Hux/Reader context. Her sense of humor and sass come through brilliantly in her writing.

Valentine’s Day: I have to be honest. I really enjoy these Hux drabbles. As mentioned, Hux isn’t my guy. But the banter and snark here makes me think maybe he could be my guy.

Untitled: Another Hux/Reader drabble, which I won’t title as “this is dumb” because it isn’t. There’s great sexual tension captured between Reader and Hux, and the unexpected cigarette burn is so salacious.

De-Stressing: This piece is Kylo/Reader—and there’s daddy kink. Look, y’all know I don’t typically go for daddy kink, but this one is enjoyable. If it’s your thing, this is right up your alley.

Now that's what I call domestic Victuri 4

Victor and Yuri are no strangers to sharing space. Especially since they had to grow used to the bathroom adjoining their bedroom. They could just make getting ready easier on both of them if one decided to use the second bathroom but neither were willing to move. Even though they argue about hogging the sink or the mirror, sometimes that closeness has Yuri pressed against Victor’s back when he’s fixing his hair. And if he kisses the back of his neck, Victor doesn’t mention it but isn’t afraid to roll his hips back into Yuri’s as retaliation. At least they have the decency to blush when Yakov is yelling at them for being late to practice.

Nights are hard sometimes. Especially the summers when the air is hot and sticky and the fans do little to abate the heat. Though, determined, Victor always sticks himself against Yuri like glue. Almost literally with the way their skin feels. It never fails, Yuri will complain and swat Victor off him meaning they playfully argue about whether or not Victor can hold him. And even though Yuri usually wins the argument, he’ll feel the warmth against his side in his dreams.

Just like their first meeting, Victor is no stranger to initiating contact with Yuri. Yuri expects it in some form or another when they’re within a ten foot radius. He has the curtesy to never comment on Victor’s clinginess and often vibrates with excitement when he knows it’s coming. Victor knows this, Yuri isn’t as good at hiding his appreciation as he thinks he is, and never expects or demands Yuri to do the same. Considering the Japanese rarely show displays of affection as outwardly as he does. But once in a blue moon, Victor will find Yuri’s arms around his waist when he least expects it, even daring to lift his shirt. And Victor is absolutely floored when Yuri’s the one who’s backed him into a wall with a kiss, with a knee that’s pressed between his own.

@kcgane I had a Sad Thought pertaining to sticky notes and also in relation to that amazing song you wrote:

We don’t know when those were written. It’s perfectly plausible that they were written before Shiro’s abduction and the announcement of his “piloting error”. And I’m personally fond of the headcanon that Keith is somewhat musically inclined or perhaps has a knack for poetry (it’s easy to craft and mold words to say exactly what you want them to when you have the time to think them over).

So, please imagine Keith, lonely and missing Shiro (who hasn’t been announced dead yet), scribbling possible lines to a song on sticky notes in his spare time. A song he wanted to give Shiro when he got back. A song that told Shiro how he felt about him. Pls consider that his “and it’s killing me when you’re away” was meant to be said to shiro someday, and wasn’t just a thought he decided to write down for himself. And that he kept the notes because there were so few things left of Shiro to remind him that he had been real and that his feelings had been real, because of course his belongings would go to his parents and Keith only had the few things Shiro had left with him, either as gifts or simply forgetting them in Keith’s room because they spent so much time together. And that he put the notes on the board he looked at everyday, trying to find whatever was calling him out there, so he could remember shiro, every day. Because he couldn’t ever let himself forget, not even for a day.

Tonight I am the coldest part of winter,
the echo of teeth chattering as I try
to hold my bones together.

I keep re-writing goodbyes,
but the sound of leaving has a way
of sticking around,
even on the iciest nights.

Tonight I don’t care who left whom,
only that my breath reminds me of a ghost
and my fingers look like
piano keys I have forgotten how to play.
I am trying my best
to remember the notes.

Tonight all the stars look like they’re falling.

I wonder what will become of the sky,
how it will carry on.
I wonder what will become of us-
the insides of our lungs laced with stardust,
choking on the past.


I Have Forgotten How to Be Alone

by Alex S.

“Dobroye utro, comrade Braginsky.”

“Stop it with the ‘comrade’ nonsense, Sokolov. This is not the Soviet Union.”

The response Ivan gets is bone-dry, as always: “In these tense times, this surprises me.” The much larger man can’t help but agree, though he keeps his thoughts to himself. Russia has been cast in a poor light in recent years, and his own actions haven’t done anything to change that image.

His handler continues, an austere look in his grey eyes: “Your contact in Paris would like you there today; I have purchased you a round-trip ticket from Sheremetyevo to Charles de Gaulle, and your flight leaves in two hours. You have a week to obtain the information we need, by any means necessary, and if you do not by the time you are due to return-…”

Everything about Vitaly is grey, Ivan thinks absently; he is halfway listening, carefully making mental notes and maps and plotting out rendezvous points and escape routes, though he doubts he’ll need any. He’s been to Paris several times; he is thoroughly unconcerned about this latest trip.

“…I am down here, Braginsky.”

He redirects his ice purple gaze from the opulent ceiling of the office down to the smaller man, his placid expression hiding his ire at being handled like a child.

“I am listening, Sokolov. Do not strain yourself so hard – you may have a stroke.”

There’s a thump of an incensed fist against his chest, but it barely registers; Ivan is far too bulky for a little man like Sokolov to budge. “Listen to me and do as I say, or I will report you to the Kremlin for insubordination. This is important, and it involves everything you have been trained for.”

Ivan straightens up to his full (considerable) height, arms like steel girders where he holds them behind his back: his handler has one hundred percent of his attention now.

“Your contact says that the CIA has sent a man to Paris. If this is the case, you will also have a target.”

The hulking Russian’s eyes gleam. The CIA, sticking its nose into Europe’s business again, he thinks somewhat gleefully. Oh, Vitaly knows just how to grind my gears.

“Otlichno,” he replies, suddenly much more excited to be going to Paris.

Sokolov gives a strained grunt in response. “Otlichno. I have packed your bags and left you your tickets and one hundred thousand rubles, along with your usual allowance. You have a week; what you do in that week is up to you, but you must make it worth our while, Braginsky. We cannot afford another incident like the one in Warsaw.”

Ivan nods wordlessly. He’s too busy thinking about cornering that CIA agent and dashing his brains against the cobblestones. He turns to leave, footfalls soft on the plush carpet of his handler’s office, and is rounded on by Sokolov once more.

“Remember, Braginsky,” the older man adds with a dark tone in his usually-even voice, “when you dispose of him, do not leave any traces.”

Ivan grins, and the temperature in the room drops by several degrees.

Sokolov watches as his agent shoulders past him and ducks out of his office, then sits in his armchair and pushes his spectacles up on his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb; I pity the fool who crosses his path.

That moment we were all Deadpool