ryan ross enters my home and locks the door behind him, wipes his feet off at the mat, fluffs my pillows, scrubs my bathtub, waters my flowers, and makes us some thai tea and reads milk and honey to me.
brendon urie breaks my window, throws himself into my house, smashes my tv with his foot, sticks forks into my wall, drop kicks my microwave, smears his spit on my tables and knobs, and slashes my tires
The Prologue - I knew this was a concept album with a Romeo + Juliet story but she actually read the actual prologue of Romeo + Juliet my love of both Shakespeare and Halsey have been truly united and I can die peacefully.
100 Letters - With the exception of the three singles released this is the first actual song I’ve heard off HFK and it’s so different from Badlands but I already love it. I’m glad despite this being more of a radio album that the lyrics are still pure Halsey.
Eyes Closed - Honestly, I prefer the stripped version of this but I still enjoy it. I feel like I need to drive around with this on repeat for a few hours.
Heaven In Hiding - I got chills during the chorus it’s so good. I feel like an alternate version of this could’ve been on Badlands.
Alone - This is so different than anything I was expecting from this album but I kind of really love it wow.
Now or Never - I don’t care what anyone says I loved this song when it came out and I still love it no matter how many times I listen to it.
Sorry - I was wondering if she would do a slow song at all and I’m glad she did aside from the fact that I want to rip my heart out and cry until I die.
Good Mourning - I feel like this is the people of HFK speaking but I could be wrong. Either way I feel like I’m late for an appointment.
Lie - I feel like Halsey was super pissed when she did this. I really wish Quavo wasn’t in it though just because I don’t care about him at all. I just want to hear more Halsey. She sounds good in the background though.
Walls Could Talk - I’m curious if this is about Lido. I really it like it but it’s so short.
Bad At Love - This is just all kinds of great and I hope she performs this live because I’d love to hear it so much.
Don’t Play: I was pretty bored with this one until I heard Halsey say “motherfucker” a bunch of times and now I feel revived.
Strangers - I’m not really a fan of Lauren but she sounds so good with Halsey and I really do love this song.
Angel on Fire - The lyrics for this are so good. I also feel like this would’ve worked on Badlands. Anyways, this song makes me feel like screaming or smashing dishes around my house or showering with all my clothes on.
Devil In Me - This makes me feel sad. I want to give her a hug.
Hopeless - I was really nervous about this because of Cashmere Cat but I think this is actually one of my favorites on the album and I’m so happy with it.
Overall: I was so worried about this album because I love Badlands more than anything but I’m so happy with this album. I don’t really know what else to say besides that I adore Halsey and will listen to nothing else this summer.
Favorite Songs: Hopeless, Sorry, 100 Letters, Angel on Fire, Devil In Me, Alone, Bad At Love
The April 10 New York cover, shared in a preview on the magazine’s Facebook page on Friday, takes sharp aim at President Donald Trump — depicting Trump, clad in his golf attire, smashing all the White House windows one-by-one.
The upcoming cover, titled “Broken Windows,” was drawn by artist Barry Blitt, who told New Yorker art editor Françoise Mouly for a piece on the magazine’s website that this latest cover was inspired by watching Trump “plowing one drive after another through the glass windows of American politics.” Read more. (3/31/17, 2:57 PM)
Whenever I end up in a dark zone and start putting myself and my art down (which is alot), there’s always SOMEONE who pops up just in time to smack the despair out of me.
Whether it be a follower, a nice anon, or a buddy- it always nice to be reminded that even if I may not think I’m good, there are real people out there who actually do. And I love you all for that
So remember folks, it’s very easy for artists and writers to fall into a rut where they can’t produce anything due to low confidence in their skills. So what must you do to help them out? SMASH INTO THEIR INBOX/POST/HOUSE AND REMIND THEM THEY HAVE PEOPLE WHO LOVE THEIR WORK. SMACK ‘EM WITH LOVE.
(Kind of ended up not as Hamiltots, so feel free not to publish it if it doesn’t fit the blog style)
It had started off as a lullaby when he was a baby. Soft words accompanied by slow rocking to lull the youngest Hamilton to sleep. “Alexander Hamilton. Your name is Alexander Hamilton, and there’s a million things you haven’t done, but just you wait, just you wait.”
And then Alexander had grown, and would wobble unsteadily around the house screaming disjointed words and lisping his own name. He was 5 when he grabbed at his mothers hands, and changed the melody. “That tune’s real sweet mamma, but how ‘bout this one?” And he split his name cleanly into four sweet syllables, instead of the long notes they’d been before.
I've had a shit week bby so share some Loverboy AU hcs so we can all recover? ♡
OF COURSE BBY
Yuri and the Undercuts all singing along to Nirvana in JJ’s car when they go on midnight fast food runs together
Yuri wearing thick sweater knit thigh highs and tiny shorts in bed, kicking his legs up on the wall as he reads and Otabek walking in and just staring for a good long time before Yuri notices him and calls him over.
Both undercuts learning to braid and taking turns competitively doing Yuri’s hair, until Yuri deems one of them the winner with the best braids
JJ owning a hookah and all three of them setting it up in the basement, piling every pillow in the house around it and lounging about together one lazy Sunday afternoon
The boys going to concerts together and taking turns letting Yuri sit on their shoulders so he can see what’s going on. JJ once offered to boost Otabek, and Otabek just scowled at him.
The undercuts are dueling champions of Smash in the house and they keep a notebook with who is the current reigning champion in the house. They forbid Yuri from playing because he just uses Pikachu and spams.
Yuri dancing in a silky kimono-esque bathrobe with Otabek to Dr Dre’s entire 2001 album (he looks so good sometimes Otabek has to just stop and stare)
JJ bringing home an inflatable pool in the summer and the boys setting it up in the backyard. JJ and Yuri end up getting too hot and heavy in it and burst the side of it, and Otabek comes out back to find a yard full of water and two very frazzled boys
It was Elena’s bday party. You were almost ready to go to Salvatore Boarding House when you heard a knock on the door. It was Stefan. He left with Klaus after Damon got werewolf bite. You didn’t know he was back.
“Hey, Stefan! When did you come back? Are you not going to Elena’s birthday? Oh, just come on in.”
Stefan didn’t reply. He just came in. He was oddly quiet. At that moment you realised something was wrong. You started to run to your room. But it was too late and you had already invited him in. The next moment, he was right in front of you. He made you drink his blood. You tried to fight but it was all in vain. He then pulled off your vervain bracelet.
“You are not going to move and you’ll do as I say” he compelled you.
He took your phone and messaged someone.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked him.
“So that your boyfriend stops looking for me” he said
“He is your brother, Stefan and Elena’s so worried about you. They both are.”
“Shut up. Or I’m going to kill you right now.”
“You’re still going to kill me either way”
The door of the house smashed open. It was Damon. You realised he was not invited in your house. It was your new house and none of your friends were invited in. As you were about to invite him in. Stefan said, “you’re not gonna invite him in”
“Invite me in, Y/N” Damon yelled.
“Damon, I’m compelled . I can’t.”
“What are you doing, Stefan?” Damon asked.
“I’m gonna kill her, brother”
“You will not do this. Not to her. You will not touch her, Stefan. Or I’m going to rip your heart out”
“I told you not to come back after me. You didn’t listen. You’ll have to face the consequences”
“Stefan, not Y/N. You can do everything you want but not to her. You can torture me in every way possible but please don’t hurt her” he begged.
“See, Damon. I’m torturing you in worst way possible.” He snapped your neck.
You could feel someone was holding your hand. You’re constantly struggling to gain consciousness and to open your eyes. You gathered all your energy and tried to breath. You were alive. Actually, in transition. Damon was shocked when you sat up.
“Y/N, you’re alive?” You looked at him with tears in your eyes.
“He fed me his blood, Damon” tears were flowing down your face. He hugged you.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m really sorry.” He said.
You buried your face in his neck and you knew he’ll make everything right.
-Foreplay is amazing -As said in the previous Mingyu post he would grind into you as foreplay -He’d probably finger you -Wit dem long ass fingers damn gimme some of dat -Would then proceed to lick your juices off his fingers after he got you all nice and slippery -would make eye contact with you as he licked his fingers -Then he would kiss you -He would eat da puh -And he would be so good at it -Like he’d make you come so hard -He would watch you so intently as you came -The he’d lie down and you’d hop on -Because mah boi is so tall missionary isn’t really an option -Also his dick is huge -Just saying -His hands would be on your hips to guide your movements -He’d throw his head back -And let out a loud, long groan -He’d buck up into you -Also on the occasion he would dirty talk -”Hmmm….you like it when I fuck you like this?” “Oh yeah baby, you feel so good around my cock.” “You are so fucking sexy I could fuck you all night.” “You taste so good babygirl, I could eat you every day for the rest of my life.” -Stuff like that ^^ -Sometimes he’d be rough -Like being you over the counter and hitting it from behind -SLAMMING INTO YOU OH MY GODDD -He loveeeesss it when you moan his name -The louder the better -Wants the neighbors to know how he fucks you right -Leaves hickeys from the collar bone down -Also he is down to smash anywhere in the house -Like anywhere -Especially when he is feeling edgy -But when he wants to have some really intimate sex it stays in the bedroom -When he is ~MaKiNg LoVe~ He loves to trail kisses all down your body -But he won’t leave hickeys in this case -Would groan 10x more than he does when you guys are fucking -Love making is often slow -Very passionate -Also my boi can go manyyy rounds for both fucking and love making -Also he loves getting sucked off -Like just seeing you with your mouth on his cock drives him nuts -He would make a fist in your hair and moan -Like an actual moan -And he would throw his head back -Loves it when you make eye contact with him while giving him the good suck -Also likes titty fucking -Like yes -And as far as kinks go -I think he isn’t too kinky -But he does like a little BDSM -Seeing you all tied up ready for his dick? Yes please. -Anyway that is it for now -Also sorry I haven’t posted any actual fics in like ages I have so many in my inbox I swear I’m working on them -Anyways I hoped you liked this -Because I liked writing it
A family came to my doorstep to sell me plates of food. They wanted us to buy their food so badly that they barged into our house and redecorated my entire house. The father of the family traveled back in time to find a weapon to destroy my house with and it was a bomb. The bomb started ticking and the house slowly deconstructed with the countdown. After it reached 0, the bomb still kept going and counted down from -1, reconstructing my house. Then the family came back to smash down the house again.
Ok we are not nothing.
You know the evening sky
like a drunken mother in a nightgown, you know in the morning when she cracks like the axe split
the cherry tree and lies all cold
on the ground,
and the dog inside pawing
at your red toes, your pre-pubescent growth spurts aching
with the dawn.
Something haunting. Like the echo
of the rubber ball rolling
under the bed that your limbs
have outgrown but you can’t
afford much better,
your room is tilted down on this side,
lower sunk into the earth,
punched and swallowed, but cursed
all the same. like a loose tooth.
red dawn on your jam and toast,
and your legs stop swinging,
you reach a hand in, and yank at that hanging chrysalis feeling,
and lick it when it’s free,
and this is why they’ll call you
you just don’t know it yet
Something ugly, and childish, and smeared around your gaping mouth like blood,
we can just
pretend it’s cherry popsicle.
I tried to cut my fingers off with
safety scissors, you left me all alone behind
that fence, those great big sunflowers
with moving heads and stiff necks,
and yellow tongues, I used to run out back with
milky slopping glue in the corners of my eyes
and eat all the carrots and dirt and hedges I wanted, alone,
until a grown up found me,
and peeled me from the garden by scruff of my neck,
she closed the bathroom door behind me, told me to wash my face with blue dish soap,
and I cried when it stung, when it
made my tongue feel like a slug
in salt, but
I said ouch very quiet with
her wrinkly, rubber hands squeezing in under my
play-doh ribs, cartilaginous and
still soft, like
a tadpole in mud.
she turned her nose and
said I smelled like a wet dog and
plopped me covered in scrapes
and full of wriggling worms like
fly ridden fruit, her black skirts bit
away the feeding curl of ants I fed my
stale cookies to, she sat me with a towel to dry in the time out room to
be eaten by fat clowns with
clocks for faces, and half past midnight
I buckled my mouth, I was brave,
crossed arms and wolf fur under
my armpits, wild thing screaming for her mother
the alphabet backwards
smashing doll houses in
velcro Mary Janes, the
sand box bully, the
monkey bar hog with
wood chip splintered knuckles and
callouses to prove it,
covered in scrapes and
caved in and hollowed out
like an empty pint of ice cream,
I have spare band aids in my
pockets, like confetti to a cheap
why are those purple things under your eyes
so big? can’t you do something
about them? don’t you
want to be a better girl?
Alternative title: Why it’s important to be honest with your partner even if it hurts you.
I’ve seen a couple headcanons floating around that Guzma would be the most likely to be in an open relationship and I thought I’d explore that in my own unusual way while trying to get back into the swing of writing these things again. I was about to post my completed ones, but of course I didn’t like the rough drafts so I’m starting them over before I post. Of course I’m having a difficult time doing this, so I decided to just hammer out some angst to try and get rid of this writer’s block.
READER BEWARE: Sensitive material ahead. Please avoid this if you feel that you cannot read angst of this nature.
It all started because of a blanket.
There weren’t any rooms left. Conversely this also meant there wasn’t even a bed for you, at least, not in the academic sense of the word. You only had an old couch to lay on in the middle of the hallway by Plumeria’s room where people could see your every move when you got ready for bed (you always got ready and did everything you needed in the bathroom) so you couldn’t do much there except watch people as they watched you. Guzma had remedied this problem for when the evenings got cold: a stolen Swanna down duvet with two reversible colors, black and gray. You liked to think it was his way of thinking of you specially outside of his other girlfriends.
“Gotta keep my baby girls happy.” He’d told you. Had given you a kiss while holding onto another Grunt who had been seething. You thought She would get over it. Really this whole mess was your fault.
You’d been ok with keeping the relationship open, or at least, you pretended to be. For a long time you tried to convince yourself that people did things that hurt out of true love. Sharing with at least three other girls was just one of them. You’d grinned and bared the brunt of the pain for a long time, but what you should have done was told him since the beginning it made you uncomfortable. Been brutally honest even if it killed you. That way, you both cold have mutually agreed this would not work and just ignored each other. Let each other find your happiness elsewhere. Remained on good terms. Been strictly friends.
It happened when your blanket had “mysteriously” gone missing. The perpetrator had even come up to you one night when you were trying not to shiver, asking in a falsetto where your blanket had gone. You knew where it was and you knew who was using it. You just didn’t want to make a scene because of who it was that took it. So you kept your mouth clamped tightly shut. Shrugged. Avoided eye contact and sat down with a book at night as though nothing was wrong. She was the fiercest of Guzma’s girlfriends, and whatever She wanted She took. The others were kind to you, but if they wanted to keep all their teeth they had to keep their mouths shut when She did her thing. A few of the others had passed you by on nights when it was just too cold to sleep, mouthing the words “I’m so sorry” and giving you warm Tapu Cocoa to help alleviate the hurt you felt deep inside your bones. They did other things too such as letting you have extra time with Guzma, the most precious gift any of you had.
During one of these times he’d found out. Inevitably without any protection from the cold and being out in the damp you’d gotten a pretty nasty cold. Every time Guzma came in to kiss you he’d stop and let you hack out a lung. It hurt and he had no idea what was wrong with you.
“What the hell’s the matter?!” He’d asked. Concerned despite the wording. You’d been about to answer that it was nothing when a particularly violent cough shook your body so hard you almost fell off his chair.
“Nah uh babe.” Guzma said, shaking his head from side to side. “I’m getting your ass into bed, you’re too sick to be up.”
You protested in your quiet way the whole trip in his arms to your little green couch. Dread filled your heart when he laid you down and said something about how he “gotta keep you warm in your blankie”. Guzma looked under the couch, in the space beside the arm, everywhere before he paused and looked at you with a dangerous frown.
“Hey,” he said your name, “Where’s yer blankie?”
It sounded so weird hearing him say it so seriously. You were tempted amidst the fear to laugh nervously.
“I… I ‘unno…” you whispered.
“Babe come on.” he said, trying to look into your eyes as you averted him. “Be for real, where’s yer blankie?”
Silence. Then again another “I don’t know”.
“What didja do with it babe??” Guzma demanded. You couldn’t tell him the truth. Only half of it. He asked you again when you paused to cough.
“Gonna ask you one. More. Time.” Guzma told you. Seething. Ready to start screaming because his voice was no more than a hiss through gritted teeth. “And then I’m gonna get fuckin’ pissed off with you. Where’s. Yer. Mother. FUCKIN’. BLANKIE.”
“… lost it…”
“BULLSHIT!” He exploded, repeating the expletive four times before laying into you. By now the whole house was watching it happen. She was there, watching with a smile. The other girlfriends were there, looking on mournfully. Even Gladion, who never came out of his little hovel had come to watch wide eyed and fearful as Guzma screamed and carried on. Unluckily for you Plumeria was out, otherwise she would have intervened immediately.
“YER A LOUSY ASS FUCKIN’ LIAR!” he roared, shaking you roughly by the shoulders and making you frightened. “THE FUCK DO YA THINK YER DOIN’ FUCKIN’ BULLSHITTING ME LIKE THAT?! WHO FUCKIN’ TOOK THAT BLANKET BABE?! TELL ME NOW!”
You couldn’t keep up the lie, but you couldn’t tell him. You were more afraid of Her retaliation than you were of his. All you could do was cry and struggle to breathe through the one good nostril you had that was now clogging with snot, fearful tears dripping down your cheeks and mingling with the sick ones. Eventually he stopped yelling and figured it out when one of the others, Plumeria’s girl, had been watching the spectacle with the other grunts and pointed very subtly to the girl’s room. That was all he needed.
He let you go and sprinted into the girl’s room, throwing things and making them crash against the walls until he came thundering out, your blanket in his hand like a piece of incriminating evidence. You could see Her blanch when his left hand crackled into a fist, looking as though he would commit murder. Guzma was fully capable, had hit before and would hit again, only now he had the lust to kill.
You wished he would take it out on you.
He was too angry to scream anymore. Guzma threw your blanket unceremoniously onto the couch, staying only a moment before he walked through scurrying grunts. His fists collided with walls. He kicked down the door to the girl’s room. Grunts hid in all directions, and She did too, but not before staring you down and giving you a look that told you what would happen after Guzma stopped his rampage and went to bed too full of booze to protect you.
Quietly, slowly, suppressing your coughing so strongly you forgot to breathe, you reached under your couch for your tattered backpack as Guzma began his strangled screaming. You made sure only the essentials were there: your toothbrush, your Pokémon, the few pennies you possessed in this world. There were no other clothes except the ones you wore on your back and one pair of lace underwear that Guzma had stolen for special occasions. You touched the blanket once, recoiled when a bookcase came smashing down somewhere in the house, thought better of it, then clung to it fiercely after you had put your backpack on. It was the only thing from the house you dared to take, and practical too. You didn’t have an umbrella.
Quietly you slid down the stairs and tried not to hear Guzma’s otherworldly howls that ripped from his throat. A vase narrowly missed tearing your face into a million pieces as you ducked its decent from above, letting it shatter on the ground where you once were.
(opens the door and sees the angry mascot) Hello? Yes? Oh, it’s you. Uh, if you’re looking for that donut of yours, umm…Gray has it. Go smash open his house. (shuts the door as the mascot leaves) He came to life. Good for him.
(Loud smashing, then loud thumping and the doorbell.)
(opens the door and sees the angry mascot again)
(runs past) Help me Lord!
I told you! Gray has it! Or Gajeel. Go kill Gajeel.
Natsu, give him the donut! Once he has it, it will be the end of all this horror!
We’re Going To Be Friends - The White Stripes // 1979 - Smashing Pumpkins // This House Is A Circus - Arctic Monkeys // In One Ear - Cage The Elephant // The Kids Don’t Stand A Chance - Vampire Weekend // Last Living Souls - Gorillaz // Time to Pretend - MGMT // The Kids From Yesterday - My Chemical Romance // Heroes - David Bowie // Unstoppable - Foxy Shazam // Brother - Gerard Way // The Kids Aren’t Alright - Fall Out Boy // Don’t You (Forget About Me) - Simple Minds // Ooh La La - Faces // Right Before My Eyes - Cage The Elephant
playmoss is still having issues with youtube so i’ll be putting most of my playlists on spotify now as well