#DEEP EYE CONTACT(TM)

[dirtypr0mises]

HIT ME AND TELL ME YOUR MINE ⋆ — b. eilish

in which; — you and billie have a thing for rougher types of intercourse, yum :P

dom!billie x sub!reader , duh

cw: expect the smut duh, if you can’t handle it that’s on u.! rough sexual intercourse , oral (reader recieving) , usage of toys (vib.) , dacryphilia , oh and two women loving eachother (boo rahhh go away homophobes)

yapyap: am i posting tm or normally girl idk i write fast. well i wrote like half of it and then fell asleep.. but also my first EVER time writing smut , even tho i used to be a wattpad writer , uh yea yikes (booo tomatoes). i think yall should bare with me! yea? ok thanks. i feel like i did good though anyways, but dont tell me. :,)

NOT PROOFREAD

what did you think was gonna happen? going out for dinner in a small black satin dress that was barely there, except the last thought on your mind was the dinner, you knew what you were doing.

billie slammed the bedroom door behind you two, you were standing there, extremely awkwardly. she grabbed you by your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. her hands traveled down to your waist, giving it a squeeze, which made a breathy ‘mm’ flow from your mouth to hers.

before she got carried away, she made sure everything was set straight. “our safe word, remember it.” she said, pushing you on the bed and climbing right ontop of you. she looked into your eyes for a split second before coming down to crash her lips on yours. soon her lips traveled down from your lips to where your skimpy dress covered your boobs.

a trail of dark hickeys gave proof of what was going on, if anyone wanted to ask.

“take it off” she said in an almost whiney tone, and you complied, pulling the dress over yourself and throwing it — who cares where?

she bit her lip when she saw your body, slipping your strapless bra down, immediately latching her mouth to your nipple, making you gasp out loud, but oh no, she wasn’t there for long.

soon enough, her mouth was trailing down your stomach, more hickeys, more moans. she got down to your waistline. pulling down your lacy black panties.

“knees up, legs apart” she commanded, and when you did she bit back a groan. she couldn’t even pause to look, she licked right inbetween your folds, coming back up to kiss you.

“your so wet for me already mama” she smirked into the kiss, and then she went back down, licking again, and again, again while you moaned again, and again, and again. each time at a higher tone.

she ran her finger across the slit, stopping at the hole and with no warning, plunged her finger deep in you, causing a loud moan to escape from your mouth, your back arched as she moved her finger fast, soon two fingers, and then three. your moans were a mix with pleasure and pain, never had she used three fingers before. soon enough you were on a high.

“b-billie.. i-i need to-“ you said before a sharp moan escaped your lips, she curled her fingers, and you tightened around her, your juices flowing onto her fingers. your fingernails clawing at the bed and your head thrown back.

soon her mouth was back on you, licking at your slit and two fingers back in you, making you whine and push your hips forward. she made sure yall were maintaining eye contact, atleast when your head wasn’t thrown back in pleasure.

“your mine, all mine y/n” she said looking straight at you.

soon you were on edge again, this time she wouldn’t let you cum. everytime your breath hitched, or a moan a little louder than usual had come out of you, or before you could even finish saying her name, she was already out of you, waiting for you to completely come down before plunging her fingers back into you and going down on you again.

tears soon started to flow from your eyes, your back arched and your nails in the bed. randomly she got up completely, making you whine out loud. soon though, she came back with the fancy little vibrator she had bought for you. she smiled at you innocently, sitting back down where she just was. she placed a small slap on your pussy, smirking at the reaction she got out of it.

she turned it on pretty high. and now it was in place of her tongue with her fingers still deep in you. but once again with every breath hitch, loud moan, or you saying her name everything was out. and the tears were flowing, indeed. not to mention every time you were about to go over the edge, she gave the back of your thigh a squeeze, and not a little one.

this went on for maybe 30 minutes, the slowest, most pleasurable but agonizing 30 minutes ever.

after 30 minutes, your breath hitched and your back arched, but she didn’t take anything off. “billie p-please..” you whined, your hips bucking forward involuntarily. she nodded and curled her fingers

and then you came, a painfully loud moan made billie bite her lip, your head practically on the other side of you, you were seeing stars. once you came down, she slowly licked the juices away, placing one last kiss on your pussy before coming up to kiss you on the lips.

“you did so good for me baby” she spoke into the kiss. you just nodded in reply, absolutely unable to speak.

she sat you up, turning on the shower and getting you underwear and a big tee shirt, along with a towel. she helped you up, all knowing you would have trouble walking. she helped you into the shower, smiling at you. “there you go baby, yell at me if you need something, i love you” she said and walked out of the bathroom.

the room was clean, the bed was made, and a candle was lit. with your water bottle on tour bedside, some melatonin and the cancelled podcast on, duh. and of course she had ordered takeout.

you smiled very big once you got out of the shower, walking up to her and giving her a kiss. “i love you” you said quietly, and she said it back. yall went to lay down.

and for the rest of the night you two drowned in eachothers presence. just happy to be with eachother.

‘maybe i like this rollercoaster, maybe it keeps me high.’

[amostnobleyandere]

A Team Effort (Yandere! Diluc × GN! Reader) (Suggestive !!!)

*not quite nsfw, nothing happens except for a make-out session, but there is a huge implication at the end.

A/N: diluc and reader are both “nobles” bc I am eating these historical manwhas UP man. this is a little cringe but I needed an outlet

warning(s) 🚨: !!! yandere !!!, possessive behavior, non-consensual touching, non-consensual kissing,🚨 !!!! implied non-con at the end !!!!🚨, reader has a bad family but it’s not described in detail, kidnapping, forced marriage, obsessive behavior, betrayal, captivity, slight exhibitionism?? (Diluc is making out w reader and Kaeya’s just chilling there, watching)

*is suggestive but only bc diluc is getting friendly w reader’s neck and lips and leaving a bunch of hickies and the last line is !!VERY!! suggestive (it’s a tad bit steamy and very implicative), Kaeya is there too and he’s also *creepy* (they’re both morally questionable in this), Kaeya is in on Diluc’s yandere behavior, reader is an innocent bystander in all this bs, !!! Reader has a Shit Family (TM) !!!

summary: Feeling that the distance between your worlds was too wide, you never acted on the feelings you had for Diluc Ragnvindr. When Diluc proposes, you reject him. His brother decides to take matters into his own hands by delivering you to Diluc himself. Diluc doesn’t oppose the new arrangement, as long as you’re with him.

—————————

Soft lips trailed eagerly up your neck, across your collar bone, over any skin they could reach that had been previously covered by the light night shirt you wore. You felt an insane amount of heat seep through your skin at the contact. For hours your neck and lips had been receiving his attention; biting, bruising, worshipping to no end.

You tried not to squirm as his hands—his hot, hot hands—held you firmly in place; both of them settled on your hips, his unnatural warmth bleeding through the thin fabric and into your skin. Your back was pressed up against the headboard of the luxurious bed you had been sat upon. The man you were holding onto for dear life buried his head into the crook of your neck, using his tongue and teeth to suck and lick blooming marks into the sensitive skin. The deep scent of firewood, ink, and a strong cologne surrounded you, suffocating your senses and putting you into a delirious haze.

Your shirt had been tugged down and rested just above your chest. The man laying passionate kisses across your upper body had not dared to pull it any further. How gentlemanly he was, being considerate enough to allow you to cover up from his wandering eyes, and yet everything else he was doing was still highly inappropriate. He had pulled it down just enough to allow himself a taste, to run his fingers over the smooth expanse of skin that was once hidden to him by layers of clothing, and perhaps to make you look just the slightest bit debauched as his mouth marked anywhere it could reach.

—————————

You had been brought to the Ragnvindr Manor against your will. It was more like a quiet ambush than a kidnapping and, as you found out when it was was too late, it had been planned by your family without your knowledge.

It started when maids swiftly funneled into your room and started packing up your belongings; then those maids plus additional servants hurried you into an unfamiliar carriage, ushering you in. You found yourself sitting across from Kaeya Alberich, a man you had only exchanged a few polite words with in your entire life. He was grinning from ear to ear.

When you tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. Anxiety rose in your chest as Kaeya watched you struggle with a satisfied smile. That was when you had started to panic. No matter how much you insistently pressed the man for answers, he danced around your questions and was unmoved by the nervous waiver in your voice, saying that a surprise was waiting for you at the end of the carriage ride. He never spoke a sentence that gave you a clue as to where you were going.

You peeked out of the window after seeing the carriage pass through a large gate and were met with the impressive sight of Ragnvindr Manor. Kaeya, who had remained irritatingly calm for the entirety of the ride, languidly got up from his seat across from you and reached for the previously locked handle. You heard a click from the outside. He pushed down. With a sly smile, he turned to you and gestured to the now open door.

You couldn’t help the resentful glare that settled in your features at the borderline mocking gesture. After shooting him a dirty look, you hesitantly stepped out of the carriage. You jumped when you felt Kaeya’s hand settle on your lower back, who seemed amused by your startled reaction. He grinned down at you; that and his arm around your waist was anything but comforting, as the weight felt like it was trapping you, shackling you from running away.

You were ushered through the large, yawning doorway and led into the dim front hall. You stared in awe at the luxurious wood interior that was bathed in a warm glow from the candlelight reflecting, flickering off the high walls and shadowed ceiling. Your mind was momentarily distracted from the anxiety thrumming in your chest, with Kaeya’s hand still resting lightly on your back as he pushed you forward.

He led you through the initial archways and up the stairs, his pace annoyingly (and yet eerily) slow, which you were forced to match. He stopped in front of a door that blended in with the rest of the dark wood that was characteristic of the architecture. There was nothing special about it. It only made you more nervous.

“Well,” Kaeya finally spoke, voice smooth and suave as it always was. “This is it.”

As you processed that you had basically just let a stranger pull you into someone else’s house and isolate you from any form of safety, your frazzled feelings formed a heavy weight in your chest, a raging combination of panic and fear.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “Why am I here?”

His grip curved against the side of your waist and tightened, keen on not letting you bolt.

You were seconds away from running into the maze of hallways and hoping you could find your out when Kaeya gingerly knocked on the door. He shot you a glance, seemingly reading your thoughts as his other hand, the hand tensely holding your waist, idly played with the fabric underneath his fingers. His demeanor was infuriatingly casual as you stressed over every decision that could have possibly led you here. Despite his feckless expression, you felt that he understood the weight of what he was doing. He wasn’t oblivious to your fear or your anxiety, and there was a serious expression in his eyes that looked like determination. Whatever he brought you here for, he was planning to see it through, unmoving and stubborn.

You wondered what could make a man such as Kaeya, who had always seemed so removed from any conflict in society, so motivated. You wondered what role you had in him achieving his goal.

The door opened, revealing a very surprised Diluc, dressed down more than you had every seen him. His usual heavy outer coat had been removed, leaving him in a white undershirt and vest. Long crimson hair was thrown up in a high ponytail. The candlelight from inside the room reflected off of it, making a shining halo form around his head. From what you could tell, he was in the middle of getting ready for bed, with a few stray buttons undone at the top of his shirt. You felt your face heat up at the sight.

“Kaeya? What….”

His gaze first landed on his brother, sending him a confused look, before it landed on you and stayed, a wide eyed stare that told you he was not expecting your visit. You squirmed awkwardly under his stare, too bewildered by the situation to say a proper greeting. You pressed down the urge to cover your now burning face with a hand as you were pinned under both his and Kaeya’s full attention.

“Diluc,” Kaeya spoke, unbothered by the obvious tension in the air. He fully encircled his arm around your side, a happy smile forming on his face. He pulled you towards him. Stumbling gracelessly, you were pulled closer into Kaeya and the doorway where Diluc stood stiffly, still staring at you.

“An early birthday gift.”

….What? You felt a cold dread immediately begin to pool in your stomach, the words freezing and repeating in your head. You had been nervous before, but now your body was going into survival mode as fear took over. What the hell was he talking about?

Your mind ran at the implication. You were a person. Not an item to be passed around. Was this some kind of sick revenge for rejecting someone so much higher than you in status and power? Was your family in on it? Were you suppose to be some kind of offering for Diluc?

You nearly flinched when you heard Diluc make an affronted and angry noise in response, almost something like a growl, as he glared at his brother with burning red eyes.

After that, you found yourself sitting on a plush couch inside of what could only be Diluc’s chambers. Across the room, Diluc and Kaeya spoke in harsh whispers, sparing furtive glances towards you every few seconds. You pointedly tried not to look at the very large four post bed in the middle of the room, feeling much too awkward and uncomfortable in what was obviously the personal room of a man you were not married to. The taboos of society all began to rise to the forefront of your mind, and you realized how inappropriate this all was; if it got out, there would be a terrible scandal, and your family would drag you through the mud for dirtying the reputation of both theirs and the Ragnvindr names.

Your damp hands clamped down on the fabric of your clothes, clenching into tense fists as the only other people in the room left you to stew in your anxiety.

Suddenly, there was a shout.

You nearly jumped five feet into the air. You had to tense every muscle in your body to keep yourself from rising off the small couch, though you could not stop your head whipping around to the source of the noise. You heart rate, after finally calming down, sped up again as the dread in your stomach churned. You had a bad feeling that this odd situation was coming to its climax.

The sound had came from Diluc. In Kaeya’s hand was an outstretched piece of paper, too far away for you to make out whatever was written on it. Diluc swiftly took the sheet from Kaeya, scanning over it with wide eyes.

“We’re….?” Diluc breathed, suddenly looking at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, his lips parted in surprise.

“Officially.” Kaeya said, a laugh in his merry voice, clearly amused by Diluc’s reverent expression. The calvary captain titled his head towards you, his eyes barely glancing your way, signaling to Diluc to go over to you. Your chest tightened.

Diluc looked at Kaeya, then turned fully to face you, taking slow steps as if approaching a startled animal. He walked over to you, expression nervous, seeming almost shy as he came to stand in front of the couch you sat on. He looked down at you from above, not speaking. Opening his mouth, then closing it, he balled his fist onto his knees as lowered himself down to sit beside you.

He was close. Too close. To close to be normal, for two people who were in such an odd situation. You were paralyzed by dread and didn’t try to move away from the startling, sudden heat that came with Diluc sitting next to you.

He looked away from you, his head facing the ground in front of you, then turned his body to angle himself towards you. For a moment, he stared ahead, right past the edge of the sofa. He opened his mouth to speak and a breathy, light voice came out, so different from his usual deep timber.

“Your family….,” He started. Your heart stopped. “has agreed for us to be wed without a ceremony. My brother,” he shot Kaeya an accusing look, turning away for a second before returning his gaze to the ground at your feet, “has taken it upon himself to take care of the all the details and bring you here. I’m sure you weren’t aware of this, and this all must be very confusing, but we are now legally…..” He stopped on the last word, finally looking up into your eyes, his own burning with a passion so bright it scared you.

You could do nothing but stare in horror as he opened his mouth and tied you to him forever.

“Married.” Ah. There it was. His usual voice, deep and pleasant. He grabbed your clenched hand, gently but insistently pressing it open and laying his much larger palm flat atop your own before intertwining his fingers with yours. Your joined hands rested atop your knee, which is where Diluc’s gaze stayed, entranced by the point of contact between his skin and yours.

In any other situation, the action would’ve been incredibly romantic and sweet; a tender moment that would’ve set your weak heart aflame and stirred butterflies in your stomach. Your crush, holding your hand, looking at you with all the adoration in the world? It sounded like a dream. Yet, this was possibly the worst situation you had ever found yourself in; dragged to the house of someone you barely knew and finding them infatuated with you. Knowing that you’d been given to them like a wrapped gift.

He had confirmed all your fears. You knew that your family had gone behind your back and lied to you, betrayed you, despite how much you had insisted that you not be engaged to Diluc. It would be too painful when he eventually, inevitably broke it off to marry someone else. Your romantic feelings for him were only the beginnings of a fervent admiration. Still, you knew it would come to nothing, and that your feelings could not change the nature of the world. The two of you lived in different worlds, different circles, and he had better marriage prospects from people that could give him more than you ever could: power, wealth, and all the things that you would always have to look at but never be able to touch.

The emotions you were seeing in his eyes when he stared into yours could never be described as a shallow admiration. No, now you wish you had discouraged being engaged to him for a different reason; his feelings went far beyond the bounds of admiration. They burned in his eyes; they burned you with their intensity.

You had seen a side of Diluc today that scared you. You knew your simple crush couldn’t hold a candle to his raging inferno, something wild and uncontrollable. It would consume you. You now knew that he would consume you, if you allowed him to.

It must’ve shown on your face. The confusion, the bewilderment, one of the many emotions you were feeling must’ve seeped into your expression.

Diluc began to attempt to comfort you. His hand slipped onto your face, shocking you out of your raging thoughts and back to the present as his eyes scanned over you. He looked like he was savoring touching you, perhaps happy to finally have you in his arms, under his hands, after so much longing. (How much longing? How long did his feelings go unnoticed by you?)

“You need not worry, dearest. I’ll take care of you and treat you well. I’ll be a proper husband to you and more, I swear it. You have my word.” A man once nervous and flustered was now scarily serious as he spoke, maintaining eye contact as his binding words promised you a lifetime by his side.

Diluc leaned into you, his hand still pressed to your face as he glanced down at your lips, his own parting. You saw his tongue dart out to wet them, too distracted by the movement to see that his gaze now rested on only your lips.

“I will try each and every day to make you love me as much as I love you.” He spoke softly.

You gasped as Diluc pressed his lips against yours much more harshly than you were expecting him to, and he chased after you as you leaned back into the couch.

—————————

As shocking as it was to find out, you couldn’t do much to ignore Diluc’s now obvious feelings for you. With his words, he ruthlessly broke down every mental barrier you had put up to convince yourself this was all just a bad dream. He loved you, he told you. He was going to protect you, he vowed. He was going to give you everything your heart could ever desire.

The words were meant to bring you comfort, and you had never felt more terrified in your life.

You could feel his hands wandering over your body, curiously mapping out every dip and crevice like they had been waiting for the chance to touch you. Diluc curved his body over yours, hovering above you, not quite on top, not quite upright, just crowding into your space as if he could only breathe the air near you. You winced as you felt his teeth latch onto your lower lip and pull, a soft groan escaping from his chest as he took in the sight of you; you could only imagine what you looked like right now, and the thought that Diluc was looking at you, admiring you like this, made your face burn and your body tremble. Unwillingly, a fire lit in your stomach.

And then, a raspy and low laugh brought you out of your thoughts.

"Looks like their mind is wandering, 'Luc."

Your eyes immediately flew to the owner of the voice, who was standing against the doorway with his arms crossed, an amused smirk painted on his lips. He was watching Diluc fervently push his lips to your neck, face, lips, with the same affection and bemusement one would have after getting pushed into the snow by a sibling. His look of ease, and slight surprise, betrayed no discomfort toward the sight in front of him.

You distantly thought that these two brothers had a lot more love for each other than what they let on.

After all, Kaeya was the one who had paved the path to you being in Diluc’s ever tightening embrace. Kaeya was the one who brought you here and practically threw you into Diluc's arms. From what you could guess, and from what you knew about Kaeya, he had most likely learned of Diluc’s puppy love and had seen no problem with pulling a few strings to help his brother along with his “courting.”

Never mind the fact that you had already said no; you had rejected Diluc months before. The proposal had came as a big surprise, especially when Diluc requested a private audience and asked for your hand in person. And still, you rejected him. At the time, you thought that if he wasn’t already engaged to someone other than you, someone who met his status, he would be soon, and you weren’t going to risk being the fiancé of a man who belonged to someone else; you were protecting yourself from the inevitable heartbreak that would come with letting Diluc court you. And what were you meant to do when he was forced, or worse, willingly began to court someone else? Pine after him from the sidelines, hopelessly adoring and praying he’ll come back? The thought was comical. Laughable.

Kaeya, however, clearly didn’t seem to think so.

If you knew that Kaeya had been plotting to serve you to Diluc on a silver platter, he would’ve dragged you here kicking and screaming. And if you could get past what a conniving and manipulative bastard he was, you would think it was sweet and endearing that he would do so much for his estranged brother, if only to make him happy. Even if it was at your expense.

And to make matters worse, it had been incredibly easy for him to trap you under his palm; you had pieced together how he managed to pull it off fairly quickly.

When Kaeya had visited your family’s estate under the guise of delivering a marriage proposal on behalf of the Ragnvindr household, your family had signed you over without a second thought. Even if they had taken the time to think about the fact that Diluc and Kaeya were rumored to never talk or even exchange pleasantries with one another, that they constantly acted like they were strangers, that it was incredibly odd that Kaeya, of all the people Diluc could have asked, would be delivering the news, it was still too much to ask for them to bat an eye at the proposal.

You weren’t naive; your family wasn’t keen to hang on to you. The only reason you hadn’t been married off already was because of how strongly you had batted your eyes and schemed your way out of wedlock. But now? They wouldn’t dare reject Diluc’s proposal after they found out about it, even if they had noticed every glaring red flag that came along with it. Any suspicion they may have felt was swiftly overcome by Kaeya’s relentless charm and the naturally powerful influence of the Ragnvindr name.

You were doomed the moment Diluc proposed.

You were doomed the moment Kaeya found out you had rejected his brother.

You had practically been held captive inside the manor since you had arrived a few hours ago, and Diluc didn’t seem keen on letting you out of his sight.

Kaeya, who had walked close enough to relax against the post at the end of the bed, leaned towards you and smiled.

"Oh, don’t give me that look. I wasn’t originally planning on taking you here,” he smiled at you like he was sharing a joke, the corner of his eye crinkling with mirth. “I only found out just recently about Diluc’s little infatuation with you. And here I always thought my dear brother would end up with someone like Jean. You were quite the surprise, you know?”

You resisted the urge to throw the nearest object at his handsome face after that comment.

That was who Diluc was meant to be engaged to right now, if the rumors of their long awaited marriage finally being planned held any truth to them. It would be a good marriage; a classic case of childhood friends to lovers, and their personalities fit well together, their friendship naturally wholesome. And most importantly, Jean held one of the most influential positions anyone could have; she was above many and bowed to few. Her status matched Diluc’s; her mere existence made the chance of your betrothal to the young Ragnvindr heir practically nonexistent. It was a key contributing factor in you giving up on confessing your feelings for Diluc.

You had assumed that he had Jean and could never reciprocate what you felt for him. How wrong you were.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up into your throat, one that you pressed back into your chest before it could escape. Kaeya wasn't that far off the mark; Diluc was practically destined to be with Jean. If you were a little bit more romantic, you would even call them star-crossed lovers.

So why were you here now, helplessly holding on to the back of the man’s waist coat while he suckled and bruised your neck to no end?

You gasped as Diluc seemed to get a little bolder at the sound of his brother’s voice, feeling his teeth nip harshly against your skin as he finally pulled away. You could see that his lips were kiss-swollen from his efforts, full and pink, something that unfairly added to his already devastating good looks, which were only enhanced by the glow of the candlelight. He angled his face away from you to look at his brother, something akin to jealously swirling in his eyes.

“Kaeya,” he warned, a growl in his voice. Kaeya chuckled and shook his head before holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave the two lovebirds alone.”

He shot you one last wink before he sauntered towards the door, opening it before pausing with his hand on the handle. You watched him lean back to make eye contact with the red haired man on top of you, a smirk spreading across his lips:

“Oh, and Diluc?” He cooed.

“Be gentle.”

[morskisir]

The public is VERY interested in your Sniper thoughts. Please, I need them. Phobias? Eating habits? Can he dance? *Should* he? Is he aware when he makes direct eye contact he looks scary af? Is he good at poker or does he not even play?

You are one of my strongest followers o7 THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTIONS!!! I will answer them all individually below.

Phobias?

If we're talking about proper phobias and not fears in general, then he doesn't really have any? UNLESS you count social phobia, which, yeah, he's got that. (I would like to clarify social phobia and social anxiety disorder are different things but he's got both of them, so.)

Social phobia is like, specific social situations that will continuously bring you anxiety/fear. The shit that will have him shaking every single time is a person genuinely trying to get to know him. Even a simple question such as "What's your favourite colour?" could set him off into a state of anxiousness. He LOATHES conversations like that, he wants to be left alone, he's not anyone you should pay attention to, he's not interested in doing this, go away. His fear of being known past the point of "professional assassin" is deep and greatly impacts his life. What the fuck are social relationships am I right?

Another social situation would be: phone calls! You can imagine how nice it is for him to only be able to call his parents when he isn't visiting them at their home in Oz. <3 It's the fear of I cannot see this person and I don't know how they're really reacting to this. He already isn't the best at reading people's faces, phone calls are just another level of hell.

2. Eating habits?

MEAT. MEEEAAAAT- if he could get away with only eating meat the rest of his life he fucking would. Alas, meat doesn't give your body all of the fuel it needs. Heartbreaking. (Not for me I dislike meat sdgkhdskg)

He will still insist on having meat in every fucking meal, and do not, do NOT make a steak that isn't at least a little bit raw. This guy's an animal. Give him his blue steak or he'll think your cooking is shit.

Anyways, I wouldn't say he eats a lot. He eats enough, I guess. Cunt's just running on a lot of coffee + a couple of cigarettes. He's more addicted to caffeine than tobacco.

3. Can he dance?

No. I don't know if Australian schools did this, let alone in his time, but if they did: he would skip every single P.E. class where they would do dancing instead of just chucking some ball around. He is SCARED he doesn't want to be in such close proximity with someone else hksdgkj (except Spy) (who said that) He doesn't have interest in learning how to dance, either. If he's drunk and you somehow get him to dance you'll see a horrible, non-existent dance move.

4. Should he?

No. Spy would beg to differ.

5. Is he aware when he makes direct eye contact he looks scary as fuck?

Yes and no. When he stares at someone on purpose to scare them away- it works! It's reliable! He's aware of the power that stare holds! He just doesn't realise he kind of always looks like that. The Stare(tm) is simply even more intense. There is a great darkness in his eyes........... /ref

6. Is he good at poker or does he not even play?

He can play it! He's only really decent at it- it's not his thing. Only really learned how to play it through peer pressure. (there is lore to this, but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)

Scout begs Sniper to play with him and he very begrudgingly accepts because no one else does hdsghj. He is very bored and would rather read his tracking books, but he cannot escape the ADHD. (You call out the smallest act of sympathy he just did and he'll beat the shit out of you)

^ Scout when he wants to play poker

[endennnope]

Out of curiosity, out of their D/s dynamic, what else is freakiest about their intimate time? The dynamic itself is already a good layer, but I'm curious about what else they would enjoy or have tried! You've talked about overstim and mirrors before, so there is some more layers of kink to them, would you mind sharing them?

THIS TURNED LONG sorry, im putting the tl dr here and the full ramble UTC:

tl;dr: d/s and saran being gentle in tone and care, even during punishment or rougher sex, praise kink, bondage (rope and mental), body worship and biting (vika fantasies of being even closer to saran by being consumed), eye contact/watching, saran instructing vika how to touch himself, overstim/edging. hard limits: neglect/ignoring vika, degradation

theyre the kind of couple that are open and would try out anything i guess, saran even more so and roping vika in but never pushing him into things if he knows vika is not 100% sure or comfortable

i did mention a few times saran is a soft dom; it doesnt mean hes a soft boy (tm) who would never be rough or punish, some ppl tend to mistake this kinda thing or think that every dom (soft or hard) are the same

sarans overall tone and handling is more gentle. he doesnt yell at vika, never calls him dirty names, doesnt degrade him. he doesnt punish him harshly if he doesnt do as instructed; he doesnt tell vika to behave or put him back into his place. he silently keeps track of every false move or disobedient behavior, makes vika think about it and later, he acts

saran is kind and gentle, always collected and calm and always praising vika even when hes punishing him or fucking him silly. he loves praising vika and calling him sweet names, as much as vika loves being praised. vika eats up all of his attention, all his sweet words, even if its embarrassing ones (they make him run hot). also as mentioned, saran enjoys worshiping vikas body and biting him (hes careful not to cause serious harm or wounds with his teeth) - vika loves it as well (smth smth his need to be consumed and kept close to saran)

bondage, both ropes (saran is rlly good at the art of rope bondage) and mental bondage is a huge HUGE part in their intimate time bc of vika enjoying pressure and submitting/putting himself into sarans hands. it puts him in such a relaxed, obedient state and knowing hes all tied up/restrained and open for saran to see turns him on a lot. he loves being instructed and taken care of by saran, having all his attention

speaking of attention, saran loves looking into vikas eyes esp so when hes deep into subspace (which is safer for vika too since hes not tempted to stare back then, as usual)

saran always puts vikas pleasure over his own and most often doesnt even put it in. smth he likes to do often is to instruct vika while watching him

he doesnt push vika too far or forces him into things; he can read vika so well and knows whats possible and what isnt. since vika is so sensitive, overstimulation and edging is also a big thing as i mentioned before and saran overwhelms him, pushes him as far as he knows vika can handle and take. saran is always "too much in the right way". he knows what vika wants and desires, knows when he wants it sweet and slow and when he wants it harder

a big no/hard limits are things like neglect or degradation. saran would never take his eyes off vika or ignore him; he would also never degrade him in any way or use harsh words. vika cant handle such things

sorry my answer turned out long and idk if its all over the place, its hard to describe it well what is so vivid and clear in my head AHKAJSBCKJ

[theywantedplayer]

Trevor Zegras imagine. Maybe like the situation that happened? He's getting so much hate and is really sad and a little clingy cause he's scared that reader is gonna leave him? <333

Love your blog btw! 💕🫶

K yall im gonna go to bed its 2am and i got classes tm

Ever since Trevor played the Coyotes he's been acting off, You knew from the amount of drama surrounding that game he was going to be acting weird.  One minute he was attached to your side not letting you go then In a second he was avoiding you like the plague. 

You were laying in bed on your phone waiting for Trevor to come to bed, it was getting late and He was still in the bathroom, taking longer than usual. You thought he was just getting distracted on his phone till you heard him talking. You got out of your warm bed and made your way over to the bathroom slowlying opening the door seeing Trevor hunched over on his phone scrolling threw something, He looked annoyed and Distraught.

“I didnt- fuck off” he spat out slamming his phone on the counter as he ran one of his hands threw his hair.

“You ok Trevor?” you whispered but you already knew the answer. 

He turned to you just now knowing you were in the room

“Yea im fine, go back to bed” He said waving you off

“Are you sure I mea-” 

“I'm fine i'll meet you in bed” he cut you off, you tried to make eye contact with him to see if he was lying but he was Purposely  avoiding eye contact shameful? You stood there for a couple minutes before slowly closing the door and walking back to your bed you got under the cover and laid on your side. 

It was a little while before you heard the bathroom door open and the light being shut off, you felt Trevors side of the bed dip as he crawled into bed. He didn't say anything, didn't even try to pull you to his side of the bed like he did every night. You didn't want to push him so you didnt move or talk.

“.....” “.......” “I didn't say it” you heard Trevor say barely above a whisper you turned over to face him, seeing him just lay there looking up at the ceiling with one arm over his forehead.

“What?” you asked

“.........I didn't say it” He choked out “everyone thinks I said it and I didnt, their team even said I didn't”  

Trevor could feel tears start to form in his eyes. Fuck he thought that was the last thing he wanted to do right now. You saw a tear run down the side of his face, you Quickly sat up in bed and moved to sit in front of Trevor.

He now had his hands pressed against his face trying to hide the fact he was crying 

“I know Trevor I know” you ran one of your hands threw his hair to try and calm him down

“Fuck y/n fuckk” you heard him groan into his hands, you grabbed both his hands and tried to pull them off his face and he pulled against you.

“Trevor honey sit up” Trevor listened to you sitting up facing you. Your heart broke when you saw his face, his eyes red with tears the same for  his face since they were just being buried in his hands and his teary wet cheeks made you hurt.

“Awe Trevor come here” you told 

he buried his face into the corner of your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist holding you tight. You rubbed circles on his back as your other hand ran through his hair again. Trevors shoulders shook from time to time as you held him, he was so disappointed his temper got to him in that game and how the media twisted the story so it looked even worse.

“I know you didn't say it” you told him 

“I was scared you were gonna believe them” he breathed out “I thought-” he stopped talking 

“You thought what?” 

Trevor took a deep breath before starting up again 

“I thought you were gonna… leave me” He whispered the last part “Or at least I thought you were gonna yell at me like you sometimes do when I pick fights” he laughed a little at the last part. Part of him loved when you got mad at him he always thought you looked so hot when you were mad the way you move your arms when you talked and he loved when you put him in his place.

You pulled Trevor's head out of your neck placing your hands on his cheeks saying “Trevor I would never leave you and never over something like this” you wipped the last tears off his cheeks with a soft smile.

“I'm sorry for picking fights, I just lose it out there I get so into it sometimes,I forget its Televised” He admitted 

“I know Trev I know” you respond “I think you should get some rest?”

He nodded back as you both laid back down in bed. Trevor instantly berried face into your chest and wrapped his hands around you tightly, clearly having no intention of letting go. 

“Goodnight Trevor” you whispered kissing his forehead 

[imsofthelp]

Word count: 2.7k

Category: Angst, Smut

Warnings: smut, a bit of rough sex ig, reader is sad tm, cult leader geto, an awful lot of dog metaphors, veeeery slight masochism but not really explicit. Takes place eight years after Geto left but reader's age is not stated.

Summary: When Suguru left, a part of you went with. It's not a surprise, that eight years after, you still come crawling back to him.

***

When Suguru left, a part of you went with. The school years spent together passed by in a flash and then he was gone without saying goodbye. No words, no letter, not even a short message to your phone. The wallpaper was still set to the picture of the two of you. He wasn’t smiling in that one. When was the last time he did? The more you study the phone screen, the more your hands tremble. His skin looks pale, the bags under his eyes holding all the colors of the night sky. How could you not notice? How could you possibly be that stupid? How were the signs so glaringly obvious yet slipped past your radar?

You were too happy, your brain suggested. Lost in the bliss, living in the soft summer days, only noticing that you had nothing warm to wear when winter came along suddenly. Shoko had told you not to blame yourself, yet you noticed that she had started smoking way more. You were often with her, when she allowed the nicotine to surround the air around you, letting the bright red cherry tip burn right to the filter. Those moments were quiet most of the time.

Satoru didn’t say anything to you, during that time. You often wondered if he was hurting more than you. If the guilt ate him completely instead of chipping away as it had on you. You wondered if he had any tears left to shed. Yours seemed never-ending.

You also wondered what your friends (if you could still call them that, after so many years of no contact) would think of you if they saw you like this. Hair matted with sweat and sticking to your forehead, skin clammy and flushed, eyes rolled to the back of your head and countless loads of cum decorating your pliant body.

Right now, Suguru had you on all fours, back arched harshly, his large, unforgiving hand aiding the pose with a tight hold on your hair, the other resting on your hip with a bruising grip. His hips were unrelenting in their pursuit of his pleasure, almost punishing with how harsh they were. Your body bounced back and forth with each mean thrust, your hands fisting the silk sheets until the knuckles turned white.

You squirm forward a little and his strong body chases right after. His lean, toned body leans on yours, more weight landing on you, his soft hair forming a dark halo around you.

“Not trying to run from me, are you, darling?” His voice is dark and a little breathy.

A soft grunt slips past his glossy lips and you still, taking and taking and taking until there’s nothing but him. His clean, woody scent surrounding you, his silky hair tickling at the sensitive skin of your neck and his huge cock tearing away at your insides.

“N-no. Sorry.”

You’re surprised by the breathlessness of your own voice, sounding so far away. Geto rewards you with a content hum as he kisses the shell of your ear with befitting gentleness. The only sound besides your own deep breaths is the loud squelching of your awfully wet cunt.

It’s not like he hasn’t prepared you. He spent what seemed like hours between your legs, dark hair pulled into a bun because he didn’t like distractions while doing the thing he enjoyed most. He dangled your pleasure just in front of you, only allowing you to cum when you begged real pretty and tear tracks embedded themselves into the soft skin of your cheeks. After that, he had stretched you out with his fingers, cooing at you almost mockingly when three seemed to be too much. And they were, they really were with how long, thick and calloused they were and yet-

Nothing ever prepared you to take his cock, not even when you were dripping, messing up his expensive sheets. He was massive — long, and thick and slightly curved to the side, hitting all the right spots instantly yet never fully fitting inside.

“No? Seemed that way, doll.”

Another kiss, this time to your exposed neck, before his thrusts pick up speed. It’s nasty and loud, yet missing the usual sound of hips connecting that most often came along with sex. Those two last inches never did fit, much to his displeasure.

Suguru angles his hips in a way that hits that spot deep inside, the one that despite countless times of trying, no else was able to hit in the way he was. You keen loudly, burying your head into the bedsheets and sniffling loudly, hands clawing around in search of reprieve.

Suguru grants you that one relief, the hand that was knit tightly into your hair finally leaving and intertwining with yours, fingers squeezing tightly, as if he was the one afraid to let go. His thrusts are still mean. Now, that he had finally granted you the pleasure of feeling his cock against that one sensitive spot, he abused the newfound power over and over and over again.

“You close, love? Tell me how it feels.”

His voice is sweet and as smooth as honey. The word “love” feels like venom dripping from his perfect lips. Another mean thrust and you’re keening, thoughts jumbled in your head, saliva dripping down your chin as if it’s your brain leaking out.

“Feels, ngh- Feels soo- Suguru!”

He actually laughs, sound melodic and heavenly. He’s a god above you, a vision of utter perfection, and you’re a mortal, on your knees in his temple, begging for reprieve, for pleasure, for him.

“Use your words, dear. Can you do that for me?”

It’s completely condescending. The only thing that’s betraying how tight you’re squeezing him is the slight grunts he allows to slip past. He had nothing to hide from you, anyway. Who would you tell, when you were so afraid of admitting that you shared your bed with him?

“M-mhm, wanna be good. Feels, ah, feels good-“

His thrusts slow and you can’t find it in yourself to feel bad for actually whining at the loss of friction. He’s a henchman and you’re the victim, willingly walking to him and laying yourself under the shining silver of the axe. Nothing seems to matter anymore, save for your pleasure.

Your hips buck back, trying to get him to speed his thrusts back again, but Suguru is not the one to give in that easy. His hand still on your hip tightens, fingers curling in a way that’s sure to leave bruises, that’s sure to leave his mark.

“You can do better. You want to come, don’t you, darling? Yeah, you do… So do better for me. Talk all pretty, okay?”

And how can you refuse Suguru, when he asks like that?

“You’re s-so big and n-no one else can fuck me like tha-that. I love your cock, love to fe-feel it in me, love the way i-it hu-hurts and lo-love you, ah-!” words tumble past your lips as fast as running water, afraid to disappoint him, afraid for him to leave.

Finally, finally his hips pick up their speed, the hand that was just squeezing your hip now slithering under your body and finding that little bundle of nerves in an instant. He seems to have no trouble playing you like an instrument, his practiced fingers drawing tight, fast circles on your clit. You just do your duty, keeping your back arched, your hips thrusting back to meet his movements.

It doesn’t take long for your vision to completely black out, screams and moans and little ramblings leaving your spit-soaked lips. Suguru aids you through your orgasm, never ceasing his movements against your clit. He gifts you with a couple more shallow thrusts before he’s pulling out with a soft grunt. In a moment, you feel the warmth of his cum hitting your back and your knees finally give out, body splayed out on the bed.

Suguru rolls over in order not to crush you, his own breaths labored and loud. You spend a long moment just catching your breath, head turning to the side and drinking in his painfully pretty features. The arch of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, his tired, dark eyes and his mused hair.

“You confessing your love for me was not something I had expected tonight.” He answers with a chuckle, your name slipping past his lips unprompted. No matter how soft it is, it still sounds foreign.

“It was just a slip of a tongue.” You reply, still studying each movement of his body. He was still so coordinated and delicate in his maneuvers, as if the intense session before didn’t tire him out at all.

“Some phrase about a cat and it being out of the bag seems to come to my mind.” Suguru chuckled, before standing up and disappearing for a moment.

He comes back with a wet towel, wiping away at the mess between your legs and then carefully caressing your back, removing all evidence of what has happened before. He puts it away immediately, always the one to stick to neatness and tidiness.

“Why didn’t you just finish inside? It’s less messy and I’m on birth control.” You find yourself mumbling the words. Perhaps you just missed his warmth, craving it to be so deep inside you that even after you left, some part of him still lingered.

Suguru hums softly, pulling you into his strong arms. His skin is warm against yours. He’s still naked, his chest pressed up against your back. It feels right. Like that’s the way it should have always been.

“Admittedly, I am not that possessive, darling. You can fuck whoever you like, someone who fits your moral compass and all that. I don’t need to cum inside to prove that you’re mine.”

He’s always so nonchalant about this. Like he’s absolutely sure that you would always come crawling back, even if it resulted in bruised knees and absolute banishment of your dignity. It hurt that it wasn’t exactly wrong.

“It seems that no one fits my moral compass nowadays. Perhaps I am getting too picky.” You answered quietly, softly. The smell of sex was still heavy in the air.

Suguru brushes figures into the skin of your arms, making your body instantly relax in his strong arms. It shouldn’t feel so safe. Not when the blood of so many people stain every inch of his skin. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. He had never hurt you, at least, not physically. The emotional damage was something you preferred to think about over a nice bottle of wine, alone.

“Perhaps you are. Or maybe we are just two sides of the same coin. I cannot seem to find someone who’s presence satisfies me as much as yours, either.

His words never fail to make you blush. You’re not a school girl anymore, it shouldn’t affect you at all, let alone this much and yet, when it’s Suguru, nothing is off the table.

“We are not the same and never will be.” You find the strength within yourself to answer. The words are weak and uncertain.

“Oh, are we not?” He answers immediately, the movements of his nimble fingers ceasing for a moment before continuing their path down your arms. He’s soothing you, you realize. How stupid. As if you ever needed that. As if he actually know how much you did.

“What are you implying, Suguru?” You ask, and your head finds it’s way to rest on his chest. Suguru finally relaxes, as if it was him who craved it instead of you.

“I will never change my ideals and yet you still crawl back to me like an obedient little dog.” He lets the words linger in the silence of his bedroom for a moment, “You will never change yours and yet I welcome you back into my arms each time.”

“Comparing me to a dog now?” Is all you manage for an answer.

The words have no real bite behind them. A metaphor of a dog with no teeth comes to your mind briefly. You are a scared animal, cornered in somewhere, just waiting for a hand that will feed instead of hitting. Suguru embodies both.

“That’s not what you should be focusing on. And that wasn’t even my point.” He waves you off with a gentle flick of his wrist.

“Spit it out.”

“We were doomed from the day we first met. It was meant to be happen this way.” He begins, and you can’t begin to understand what he’s getting at. Suguru often got philosophical after sex, “I believe it was Emil M. Cioran, who said “If you are doomed to devour yourself, nothing can keep you from it: a trifle will impel you as much as a tragedy. Resign yourself to erosion at all times: your fate wills it so.”

“Are you saying that there was nothing that I could have done to prevent you from leaving? That you are devouring yourself?” the words taste bitter on your tongue.

“I’m saying exactly that. The guilt is written all across your features each time I see you. Not only because you feel bad about us sleeping together. You can’t let go of it even eight years after, you carry it with you like a deadly weight. It’s going to drag you down one day, don’t you know?” He asks so nonchalantly, like he’s not expecting an answer. You offer him one anyway.

“And the part about devouring yourself?”

“Exorcise. Consume. Repeat it until everything inside you aches. My fate was written down on the day my cursed technique developed.” He’s quiet as he tells you this. Honest, for the first time in a while.

“And for you, that is synonymous to devouring yourself? Your technique?”

“More or less so. The rest of devouring is me reaching for a goal that is impossible to reach. Icarus flying too close to the sun, Laika trying to reach the stars.” He’s silent for a long moment after that.

You don’t really know what to say, either. The need to ask about why he was still doing this if he knew what the outcome was, dies down on your tongue. Instead, you hold onto his hand still tracing shapes on your arm. He gives your fingers a squeeze. The atmosphere of his bedroom is heavy and dark, melancholy weighing down heavy on your bones.

“You’re bad at pillow talk, Suguru.”

He offers you a small laugh, sound melodic and airy.

“And you’re trying to evade the topic. There was nothing you could’ve done, okay? And I don’t have plans for returning.” Your throat burns. The harsh reality that you have been trying so hard to avoid comes crashing down around you, “It’s not that you’re not good enough for me to turn my back on all of this. The thing is, you’re pretty, and caring, and your laugh, and your touch are the only things that can soothe my tired body.”

“You’re pouring salt into the wound.” You answer, and your voice is hallowed. He either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it. Deep down, you know that it’s the latter.

“My goals just always come first.” He adds, as if that wasn’t obvious, as if it hasn’t been the thing that’s haunted you for years, borrowing it so deep inside your body, soul and heart that it’s become familiar.

“Your goals always come first.” You echo, “You’ll die a selfish man, Suguru.”

He rearranges you into a more comfortable position, laying you down onto his chest and enveloping you both in a soft, warm blanket. His breathing matches yours and you feel yourself teetering along the edge of unconsciousness.

Suguru presses a kiss to your hairline, chuckling softly, before closing his own dark eyes. Can you even hear him anymore? Ah, no matter. He can always tell you the next time you come back to him.

“Don’t I know it, dear. Don’t I know it.”

[artemisandhersilverbow]

I'm still not over Taylor's Fortnight MV... to say it's my favorite visual work she's done would be an understatement. As with all things on this album, she did her research. Her incredible DP - Rodrigo Prieto - who has shot The Man, Cardigan, and Willow MVs. As well as, Brokeback Mountain, The Barbie Movie, Killer of the Flower Moon, etc.

There are so many ways to parse the story of the Fortnight video, but I will mostly focus on Taylor's use of mirroring to make some of the video's larger points.

I am a queer former film student so I wanna note that that's the bias I'll be writing from. If that disinterests you, no worries! This just may not be for you.

Love that we start with silent film era titles. One is black, one is white, perhaps a ying yang visual or simply representing the original album + the anthology. Could also be the light + dark of her two sides represented by Taylor and Post Malone.

The vertical alignment shift in the word Fortnight is interesting because the other time i noticed her doing this was in the closing poem for TTP with, "Some stars never align." Would be cute to have it like a nod to screenplay scene heading: INT. FORT - NIGHT

We start with Taylor, virtually still, but singing. She's handcuffed to an askew bed frame - sans mattress - with bars resembling a prison/cage.

The mirroring she's doing here is reminding us of "real life" Taylor's outfit at the 2024 Grammy's, but with the addition of white gauzy gloves + garter belt (like on tour), it reads more bridal, more bed sheet. That similar clock necklace is set to, best as I can tell, 9pm.

And she's got enough hairpins to... idk... make me spin out? Her make up evokes a little Clara Bow, Greta Garbo, legends of the silver screen, etc.

Taylor stops lip-syncing. Breaking the fourth wall, with direct eye contact, she's forced a "Forget Him" pill and unshackled from her bed prison. Unlike the next instance we get this match shot, it feels like she's telling the audience she knows we're watching and her look has a "this is what I'm forced to do" anger charged to it.

Also, the pill itself seems to break Taylor's reality from here on out. She "forgets him," but perhaps also becomes a different him herself.

She walks over, in her wacky funhouse of a prison room - skewed angles, upside down doors (those who enter from the left walk on the "ceiling" - to an actual mirror. But this mirror looks more like a one-way mirror. Meaning that the subject can see themselves, but so can others they can't see on the other side. Usually so the subject can be observed.

Still appropriate to break the fourth wall as though we are watching her in a way she can't return.

She wipes her face to reveal Post Malone's tattoos under the veneer of her prerfect facade. Once done, she utters the first "I want to kill her." She wants to "kill" Taylor TM?

I'll basically be going forward assuming that Post Malone is established in this mirror shot as a representation of Taylor, perhaps her True Taylor underneath the engineered perfection. This door/portal splits her in two on entry. From one white-clad figure to two black-clad ones. Kind of like the splitting of a prism.

Instead of exiting this upside down asylum, she goes deep into a department - perhaps the Tortured Poets kind. We get an awesome match cut/panning transition where Grammy dress referential Taylor morphs into a Victorian mourning dress. One very similar to the dresses on stage during Folklore during Eras (at the bottom of post). Perhaps also a nod to Emily Dickinson herself.

The way they design the set to make it so her asylum and office are connected feels like a not so subtle call out on how she feels about her chosen industry. Not quite a cheery take on the Lover House for ex. Time also becomes a little bendy, irrelevant when she does this portal walk.

When she enters she sits at a mirrored desk, morphing into Post Malone's silhouette. To the side we have faceless writers, also dressed in black older fashions, that seem to go on for infinity like a mirror trick.

Taylor sits down to start writing, Post Malone is already typing. They're both in black with embellished collars. We see that she has a top sheet with typed words, but under they're blank. Post has a pile next to him, along with his fountain pen, which perhaps are fully done b/c placement on the other side of him. Their desks are also arranged ever so slightly different. So Post-Taylor is a typing machine, Taylor needs to catch up...

But then Post Malone looks up to create this awesome mirrored match cut.

Taylor and Post-Taylor get to work, singing the chorus, camera cutting on their lines in mirror shots respectively.

We see a typewriter jam the same lines from the song, but specifically "I LOVE YOU." Granted, we can't be 100% sure whose typewriter it is, but we see Taylor type "Love You." Perhaps they're mirroring each other in even this task.

Eventually their stories starts leaking blue and orange/gold ether which prisms out to reveal "The Story of Us."

Really great shot of the infinity vanishing point effect from the unidentified crowd, how they're positioned makes them look like they're mirroring all of us watching/sharing our opinions.

This is where I'll stop for Part 1 because it's not ok how late this album has been keeping me up.

But a couple of things to start:

Taylor using very strong, very consistent mirroring techniques to create distinctions from narrator, character, and audience. Even the music is mirrored in the chorus with Post Malone's repetition.

By both wearing the face tattoos under a perfect exterior (the face we know her by), and immediately separating into two characters - one with her face/gender expression as we know it and Post-Taylor who now wears the face tattoos we just saw/is also sporting the face and gender expression we are familiar with him. It's Taylor TM the Brand vs Hidden (in plain sight) Identity Taylor.

Her typewriter emits an orange/golden glow from all of her repeated "I LOVE YOU'S," while his emits blue. Together they're creating the next story vignette: "The Story of Us."

One basic read for this is that Taylor could be owning her male POVs that come up in her songs (Folklore we're looking at you). Another read I have is that Taylor TM is writing the love song framework expected from her as an artist while Post-Taylor injects the devastation, anger, emotion, the heavy blues we often unearth from a song we originally thought was upbeat, romantic, unassuming. And considering these mirrored halves, I think that aligns with her own messages about her music, that people will always going looking for paternity tests - the publicized romance pulled from what we think we know about her. But perhaps the assumed truths of a song could be, and often are, driven by your gendered expectations - "Girl loves boy, sings about that." The hidden in plain sight Taylor subverts what the surface level shows.

The True Taylor is an unrecognizable author. And that writer is producing the meat of the work.

Additionally, I love that she's wearing a dress that feels taken off the Era's stage.

Folklore in particular was a really different writing era for her. She presented the characters and stories as fiction and all the sudden an unknown male collaborator — William Bowery — gets credited on it. I'd love if the message, in part, was hey I'm actually my own male writing partner. Regardless, her other half/POV was able to allow her to write truths so long as they remained unrecognizable.

But she's wearing the mourning dress, looking over at her hidden true half, looking over anxiously. And then begins to write. They're half the story that makes up the whole, one needing the other to tell the story they want to tell. Perhaps it's a call out to Folklore in particular as a solution to being limited by expectations of her signature diaristic-like songs' perspectives. Using it as a way to tell a version of the truth from a POV society or the powers that be in her life would accept it from — not Taylor TM as she is/who she's known to be.

More generally, the "male pov" and the male pronouns, just seem to be called irrelevant smoking guns in the game of knowing the unknowable - what her work, a lot of her work, is referencing specifically. These two writers, as presented, are still both Taylor. Them's the rules here. Ok, see you in PT. 2!

[perfectlyripeclementine]

i've been having Thoughts(tm) lately about hands on my neck in a way that's different from choking. this isn't about stopping me from breathing - it's about the vulnerability, the connection. you have both my voice and my life in the palm of your hand.

choking has its moments, the way that oxygen flows back into my brain can be delicious. but what i'm talking about feels like knowing you could choose to hurt me and choose pleasure instead.

especially if it's paired with harder touch: like, you're pulling my hair a bit, or fucking me hard. i can feel the strength, the tension in your hand, and you use it for tenderness. you're looking me in the eyes and i see how deep inside me you need to be. in those moment's i'll do anything you want me to.

my neck is also particularly erogenous i think. when someone's got their hand tenderly wrapped around my neck, i can feel the full contact of their palm, i want to moan so they can feel the vibrations in my throat. i want to beg to please them. i want to give them everything they ever wanted.

"i could dominate you, but i'm choosing to love you instead."

[differenteagletragedy]

one of my olba mcs is so taylor swift-coded it’s unreal and it was a total accident despite me a fan, but it’s been in my brain for a while. and it’s even better that that mc was for baxter. and then i got to thinking… like how would he be with a mc who’s Basically taylor swift (assuming miss swift doesn’t exist in the ol universe)? like teen singer icon turned global superstar who plays the guitar and piano, writes and sings almost solely about love and her love life, and even wrote a few songs about them.

personally, i think baxter would Not Have A Good Time (tm), since he left in step 3 and did his best to forget about mc. and now mc’s breakup songs (one which was Definitely written about him) are plastered on the radio and their love songs are being played at weddings and their face is all over the news and social media, he can’t escape them LMAO!

and you know mc would show up to jude and scott’s wedding and sing some of their songs (acoustically) cause if you have a global superstar at your wedding, it’d be a little foolish not to have them sing (also cause they probably wrote a cute lil song for jude and scott and wanted to perform it). and i can just imagine mc making The Most Intense eye contact ever with baxter as they’re singing a small set of their popular songs (love songs and break up songs included) LMAO

but what do you think? it’s been rattling around in my brain for a long time and i like Have to talk to someone about it LMAO!!!

Honestly, I don't think I'm the right person to ask for this, I really don't ever imagine any of my MCs anything like this ... PYSCH. I have actually thought about this a lot because it's very fun, so hop in, OP, we're going for a ride!

-- So the way I picture it is that MC has always been good with music, always written songs and played some instruments and sang. After they graduate high school, they decide they don't want to go to college, they want to pursue a career in music and they're making some steps to get there when Baxter shows up.

-- They let MC play at the country club sometimes because the family has been members there so long, but also MC is just really good too. Cove always comes along to see MC perform, and so do Miranda, Terry and Derek when they can. This is how Baxter first sees MC sing and he is MOVED.

-- Since MC is Taylor coded, they can pop out songs like nobody's business, so by the time Baxter sees them perform they already have a cute little early romance song about him. Depending on how bold MC is, they could play it, or not! But it exists.

-- So sort of as the relationship gets more intense, MC starts getting more opportunities to go professional. I like to imagine that Baxter takes MC to LA to meet with a record label, because even though he's not a city boy he's well traveled, and he would just handle himself well in that kind of situation I think. Also, road trip!

-- And yeah, then Baxter leaves, and he's like "out of sight, out of mind," but not so fast mister man. It may take a couple of years for MC to get the amount of mainstream success that makes them a household name, but they get there and yeah, he is having a Very Bad Time indeed.

-- This is not an original thought, but "Cruel Summer" is about Baxter so.

-- He does his best to avoid it. He won't listen to the radio, he won't look at magazine covers. But eventually MC just gets to be unavoidable, and that's no fun.

-- Like to the point where he's just overhearing people gossip about MC at work, can he not get a moment's peace?

-- No.

-- He does his best, but hearing some songs and some facts about MC's life is just going to happen. Maybe he's watching a movie and one of their songs is on the soundtrack, something like that. It's hard because he still thinks they have the loveliest voice, and it would be so easy to just do a deep dive on all their songs and throw a big pity party, but he tries not to.

-- At one particularly low point he'll give in though. He'll just lay on his couch listening to the latest album with a bottle of whine, so deep in his feelings.

-- He will never ever ever talk about it though. No one knows he knows MC or about his secret pain.

-- They just think he's a hater, which is fine by him.

-- Baxter is a professional though, so if someone wants one of their songs to be their first dance song at their wedding, then that is perfectly fine. He can cry in the parking lot after.

-- After MC's presence gets to be so much, he might sneak a peek at a magazine, just out of curiosity, not because he still has any feelings, definitely not. If it's about someone breaking their heart, he'll be miffed about it but then realize he has no right because he also broke their heart and cue a downward spiral. But if it's about them being happy in a new relationship, he'll be sad that it's not him, so a downward spiral is happening either way.

-- If he really wants to hate himself, he'll google them. He's not brave enough to go for social media though.

-- When he meets back up with them for Jude and Scott's wedding, he'll try to ignore them, but when they force him to talk he'll act like he has no idea that they're a Big Deal.

-- And THEN if MC performs at the wedding, oof. He'll avoid it at all cost because while he's the planner, he also just cannot deal. They'd do a love song during the reception and what a coincidence, that's when Baxter has to do something outside for just a quick moment.

-- Ok, but then they get back together and MC is all in, and the fans are going rabid over Baxter. He's so pretty! He'd a wedding planner, how romantic! Is he just with MC for their money? Let's hope they don't find out that they actually dated for the first time five years ago, because then fans would be on the hunt for clues that old songs are about him. Baxter would be a little scared, but he can handle it!

[hylianengineer]

hello hylian! I just saw the aro post you reblogged and thought you might enjoy this stage play concept I came up with on a call w an irl friend last night: two chronically ill college/grad students, doing school remotely because of their respective health needs and thus remote school = accommodations, who are put together on a project/assignment thing and become friends over the course of all their zoom calls and .edu communications and working together. They become fast friends and bond over both being chronically ill, their group project, their shared nerdy interests, and how they both are interested in service animals. At one point they lose touch when one of them suddenly drops out of school due to their health needs and both are so sad about it because they always communicated thru their school contact info and then when the one dropped out ofc their accounts were no longer accessible. then years later they end up running into each other and recognize each other through their voices. the one who dropped out passes the one who didn’t at a con and recognizes them because they’re talking to their service dog. (Didn’t recognize them before because they were doing Cosplay Character Voice TM until they interacted with their dog) they’re both in cosplay at this con but because of their voices they turn and look at each other recognize each other at last and feel this wild hope that there’s my friend!!! I’ve missed you so much!!! and it is absolutely not in the least bit romantic and it is 100% platonic and it’s just a very sweet poignant friend reunion and we couldn’t decide whether the play ends with them making eye contact or with them embracing in the strongest friendship hug but. yeah. it’s called Beyond The Waiting Room btw because zoom waiting room and hospital waiting rooms and vet waiting rooms and the perpetual state of looking for answers one feels in a dr office and the parallel to the perpetual state of looking for each other Until!!! and just. yeah. ♡ me n the friend brainstorming this kinda went feral about it and I figured you might enjoy hearing our concept as a stage play ode to the power of sincerely deep platonic friendship 🫶🏻

Omg I love this concept! It's such a beautiful exploration of how important platonic connections can be!

[theminecraftbox]

I've been rereading your fics and they're very good!!! do you have any teasers for strangling fruit or eldritch confessions?

I haven't had a ton of time to write lately but EC is due for an update very soon tm!

here is a little strangle fruit bit just for you:

No plan survives contact with the enemy, right? He carves an X, crude and deep, into Dream’s arm. He lights a cigarette, breathes smoke in Dream’s face, and offers it to him. “You’re O’s,” he says.

Dream accepts it hesitantly, holding it delicately between his fingers like it’s something poisonous.

“Too good for it? That what you do with a gift? They’re, like, imported, man.”

Dream gauges him, looking for something in his expression. Quackity makes sure all he sees is a bright, vicious smile, and tightens the grip on his wrist a little further.

Dream takes a drag—awkwardly, it’s obvious he’s never done this—he pulls a face, and breaks down coughing. He’s trying to cover his mouth. That’s the thing about Dream, when you break him down: the cracks get so fucking obvious.

Quackity laughs and thumps his back. “Yeah, you get it. Go on, make your move, pal.”

Dream’s lip curls. He scrubs his arm across his watering eyes, then he extinguishes the cigarette on his skin below the X with a sharp inhale. He doesn’t flinch. The effect is a little disappointing, if Quackity’s being perfectly honest.

[angeliclightdubai]

Best Meditation for Controlling Depression of a Person

There are lots of people who pretend to be strong in front of the world but are dealing with severe depression. Having depression for an extended period is harmful. Sometimes, it gives rise to anxiety or even panic attacks, which are unhealthy for both mind and body. That is why Anxiety Therapist near me is one solution that you can look up to, or through simple meditation, you can control it. Meditation has a considerable power to heal any mental and physical issue, including depression. Through meditation, you can control your chakra and maintain it properly. That is why it is you can control your negative thoughts. Want to learn more about it? So keep your eye on this post till last, and you will get to know what meditation you should do so that you can cure your depression like a pro.

Also Read: How to Deal with Attachment Issues Effectively

Best Meditation for Controlling Depression

Transcendental Meditation

Transcendental meditation, commonly known as TM, has a significant global following. Transcendental meditation employs sound or a personal mantra—typically one or two syllables—as the anchor for your focus rather than the breath.

Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy

A subset of mindfulness meditation is this. It focuses on altering harmful thought and behavior patterns and combines with cognitive behavioral therapy for successful outcomes. If you still feel depressed or even anxious, then it's better to see the best Anxiety Therapist in Dubai so that you can get over your issue as soon as possible.

Body Scan Meditation

Start by focusing on every body part, from your head to your toes, to attain deep relaxation. As you intentionally relax your muscles, pay attention to any feelings in your body. You'll quickly become more at ease and calm by using this strategy.

Also Read: What are the Major Benefits of Doing Yoga?

Walking Meditation

Naturally, walking is beneficial to your physical and emotional well-being. Still, a strolling meditation could elevate you to a new plane. In one study, aerobic walking combined with three times a week of Buddhist meditation over 12 weeks not only decreased depression but also enhanced flexibility and balance in a small group of older persons. In other studies, younger people's anxiety was similarly reduced by 10 minutes a day of meditation either before or after walking.

Depression is a common mental health problem that has been observed chiefly in young adults, and the reasons behind it are various. That may be a lousy lifestyle, love-related issues, stress, work life, etc. So that is why you should take care of yourself well and not forget to lead a healthy lifestyle. Contact Light Angelic for any assistance.

Direction: Click Here

[risu5waffles]

This level is so close to being great, but when it missteps, it does it hard. The first ten minutes or so feel like a slightly tough, but ultimately forgiving introduction to the HARD(tm) style of level design. You've got a lot of the standard obstacles, but in smaller, or gentler forms wivout any really strung together in sequence, letting a player who might be struggling to really focus on their problem point (the only thing better would be allowing a player to select an obstacle to practice wiv, and teleport to it; but that would have made for a completely different level-feel).

On top of that, the level just looks really nice. Great choice of materials, wiv an eye for how the colours compliment and contrast, leaving everything very visually parse-able. The deep blue glass is an excellent hazard choice, both looking classy on its own, but also providing a strong contrast to the electrical hazard, which i find often gets washed out, especially when used in abundance.

There really is a lot to gush over about this one.

And then you get to The Obstacle.

Now, i should point out here that adsffff (LBP HARDmode YouTuber, wiv way more dedication than i could muster, to say nothing of skill) was kind enough to contact me and point out that hitbox changes from LBP to LBP3 were probably making that bit way harder than it was intended. And that was a little vindicating to hear. It's nice to know that it wasn't completely a skill issue (tho' i'm more than willing to take the L myself. i know that there are hard limits on what i can actually pull off).

i would still argue that The Obstacle is misplaced for that has come before it, tho'. It's requiring a level of skill and consistency that has not been asked of the player at all up to that point, and hasn't been built toward in the least. Like, the obstacle itself is actually really neat, and i appreciate how it uses player expectations against them; but the feeling coming off of it is far more frustrating than inviting-challenging. i can only imagine most players, even in the original format, giving it a solid try, and deciding to bugger off for kinder climes. -------------------------------------------

It's Friday! i'm so busy! But, as a notice to folx who might follow me here, but not on stream, things are really, really well right now. Even an egregiously busy day at work hasn't put too much of a dent in my good mood (tho' i am really, really tired). i'm actually looking forward to the future, even if right now it's just the future of a couple weeks away. That's a really big change! But! i do got to get the curry transformation sorted, like, right now, so i depart!

[loominggaia]

Now I'm curious what does Damijana think of people who were disabled from birth? Like how can they really blame them...

If you think Damijana's politicians are above blaming disabled babies for their misfortune, well you'd be wrong...These people are soulless, money-grubbing ghouls.

Actually they tend to place blame on the parents before anything else. Let's say you're a Damijani woman who has just given birth in the hospital. Your baby was born with significant disabilities. This has been confirmed and recorded by the doctors on staff, and now it is in your family's government records. These records can (and will) be accessed by government agents tasked with monitoring citizen behavior.

So, an agent is flipping through new records and sees that another baby was born with serious health problems. Uh-oh, this might make the empire look bad! This might draw attention to the toxic substances the government allows in the food and water supply, or the terrible pollution in the environment, or some other corrupt aspect of Damijani culture.

That agent begins monitoring the family of this child. They may contact the family and begin asking seemingly innocuous questions, but what they're really doing is gauging if this family is going to be a problem or not. Will they start investigating their child's illness? Will they uncover the truth about Damijana's pollution problem? Will they start insinuating that these things are connected? If so, the child disappears and the parents go to Good Citizen Camp(tm).

You suspect that pollution exposure is what caused your child's disabilities, but you dare not tell this to anyone. You know that if you do, you'll be told that YOU are actually the cause. YOU must have taken illicit drugs or harmed yourself somehow during pregnancy, and that is why your child is like this. It's not the empire's fault, it couldn't be! This is a utopia, after all! So the fault must be yours, and if there is suspicion that you're taking drugs, harming yourself, or otherwise acting erratic, then agents will begin harassing you and threatening to take your child away.

You could enroll your child in a special school, take them to doctors to try and improve their symptoms, and so on...but is it really worth the risk? These schools and doctors will just record more and more information, and more information on your family's record just means more opportunities for agents to harass you.

You decide the less time this child spends out in public, the better. You choose to homeschool them. You neglect medical visits. You forbid them from getting a job when they're older, and instead you support them until you die. All the while you keep them hidden away from the public as much as you can, because every moment they're outside is an opportunity for the agents to snoop on your family and possibly take unwanted actions against them.

Your child is an "undesirable" in the eyes of the empire. Their poor health makes the Eyes of Damijana (the agents) squirm in discomfort, because deep down, they know the fault is not really yours. This child is living proof that there is something seriously wrong with the way this empire is being governed.

So, you better hide that child's problems or the government will hide them for you. That is the reality disabled children face in this empire. They just get swept under the rug with all the other things the leadership is ashamed of, like its poor people, its drug addicts, its mentally ill, and its critics. Damijana would sooner execute every one of these people than admit they are the result of its own failure to run a functional society.

Damijana's leadership has tried very hard to create a utopian paradise for all red elvenkind, but somewhere along the line they lost sight of their cause, and their dream was corrupted into a dystopian nightmare.

You can see glimpses of this scenario in "The Shadow Sector" and "Call Me Jeimos". A red elf named Tarajeen is an Eye of Damijana herself, so she knows how scary they can be. She fears the scrutiny of other agents, so she strictly controls her child's behavior and doesn't let them express any discomfort with themselves or criticism of the empire. This shows that even the agents can't escape their empire's iron grip, because they have to police eachother as well.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

[shipaholic]

Episode 4: “The Hitchhiker” / “Nazi Zombie Flesheaters”

Good Omens S2 Episode 4 liveblog. Like many, I am especially excited for this one. Let us begin!

(Spoilers, because it’s a liveblog.)

- Oh. That is some weather. Amazing how just reversing some footage of fog rolling in can look spooky as hell.

- I love Aziraphale puttering along in the Bentley with those fucking bullet decals prominently displayed on the window.

- I know this music! It’s Marge Simpson’s mum’s favourite song!

- GAH the hitchhiker fucking jump scared me.

- This whole sequence is pure Welcome To Night Vale vibes for me. Ghost Stories, specifically.

- I have read spoilery speculation that the hitchhiker is God in disguise. That’s a cool idea! I can’t wait to see if it’s r   FUCKING SHAX NOOOOOO

- Did she just call the Bentley a heap of junk?? I’m not even outraged, this is just fascinating given how behind the times Hell appears to be. I thought Crowley’s whole thing was that he was unique among demons for being a flash bastard with all the latest tech. Hastur and Ligur would have barely understood what a car was. I think Shax might be a... Millennial (a demon who’s only been torturing humans for about a millennium) (TM The Good Place).

- You can cut the tension with a knife, but Aziraphale’s knowing little look to himself when Shax says he doesn’t seem Crowley’s type... ha. He knows he is.

- An Item !!!

- Oh NO “You didn’t. You have now”

---

- Yes... YES... we got a replay of Aziraphale dumbstruck by love after Crowley saved his books. And the music changed a little! It’s still beautiful, it just resolves on a different chord.

---

- “Oh no, it’s perfect! I just spent all morning processing fifty-two men called Otto.” lmao

- Shax’s whole deal really is being as helpful as possible to her colleagues. Huh. I hope she gets exemplary performance reviews. Also her hair is cute.

- You know what? Her teeth are cute too.

- (Is she a termite demon?)

---

- Aziraphale. This is the most smitten anyone has ever looked. Oh my god.

- “There must be something” *bats eyes* “I can do for you in return” angel is thiRSTY

- I haven’t forgotten about Crowley vanishing into the earth at the end of The Resurrectionists last episode btw, still waiting to learn what happened to him down there.

---

- OK, we’ve hit the point in the book show where Aziraphale gets homophobic slurs lobbed at him. This is obviously to get the metaphor across, since A/C are about to be dobbed in for fraternising.

---

- An Official Miracle Blocker -? OK I’m laughing, that is such a macguffin that obviously can only exist for this one adventure and then never be mentioned again. If Hell or Heaven could block miracles any time they wanted they’d be doing it constantly. I accept the zombies, but not this!!

- It is genuinely, gleefully ludicrous that zombies are now a canonical part of the Good Omens universe.

- Oh, and these zombies are also incidentally Nazis. Clearly Furfur has never heard the term ‘hat on a hat’.

---

- This series has truly been a boon to the David Tennant Does Various Accents fanbase.

- I have a confession to make. I find the sequences where Aziraphale does magic really hard to watch. Like Crowley, I am cringing in contact embarrassment, but willing to see it through out of deep and abiding love. But also, I wish this part was shorter.

- The swelling strings of romance while Crowley encourages him are pretty dope tho <3

---

- Crowley cracking up at the snakes in a tin can trick... his sense of humour is so Dennis the Menace sometimes

- ...THE ANGEL HAS A GUN. I REPEAT, THE ANGEL HAS A GUN

- Aziraphale can shoot and Crowley can’t, this is amazing. He keeps a Derringer in a hollowed out book -!!

---

- Oh my god poor poor poor Crowley, he looks like he’s having to shoot Ol’ Yeller

---

- I’m looking out for random signs of demons being vampires now. Furfur only came into the dressing room when invited, just saying

- “We did loads together! You said jump on my back like the monkey in the waistcoat!” lmao glad Crowley was still Crowley as far back as the war in Heaven

- I see yoooou with your little sleight of hand Aziraphale <3

- ...UM??? So the Nazi zombies are just allowed to leave? Are they still out there?? Are they lying in bits on a staircase somewhere like the ending of Death Becomes Her? (they still probably got a better deal than the eternal spider faecal matter thing, tbh) Are... are Aziraphale and Crowley going to check up on them? .....Are we never going to be rid of the funny zombie Nazis. Are they going to star in Good Omens Christmas specials, years after S3 gets released. Neil. Neil I just want to talk.

---

- ......................oh, Dagon looks cute

- Shax’s little face at Furfur was not all that unsympathetic, which makes sense since she didn’t screw up his mission and now she’s lost leverage to ask him for a favour later. She’s still a good co-worker!

---

- I love that Aziraphale got to save the day with real (fake) magic, and Crowley got to tell him how impressed he was, while also delivering the sadly needed honest feedback that he sucks at magic and should quit forever.

- After all that, there was no Tragic Rift of 1941 to explain the “you go too fast for me, Crowley” of 1967. Shame, that was a solid bit of spec.

- I’m pretty sure the shot from the trailer of Aziraphale shyly sipping his wine got cut from this scene in the end. Glad it got some use elsewhere.

- Ultimately, this was a fun shippy little minisode, but I still prefer the Job one. I’ve mostly preferred the main plotline of S2 to the minisodes, which is a shame, because they’re a fun idea. They’re basically the GOmens version of Doctor Who episodes that are just the Doctor dicking around in history, which I know are considered thee classic format, but ehhhhh... personally those eps are never my favourites.

---

- HMMMMMMMM Beelzebub what are you up to. I do not trust anything about this scene. Shax has apparently used her own initiative to discover where Gabriel is and come up with a plan to capture him, and I don’t think Beez is happy about it. I think they are using Shax as a cover here. I suspect Shax is being set up to fail. If I’m right about the bookshop flies, then Beelzebub knows about the miracle Aziraphale and Crowley performed on Gabriel, and that miracle ensures Shax cannot find Gabriel even if she were to walk right up to him. Shax might well destroy the bookshop or Aziraphale or Crowley (all outcomes Beelzebub would probably be fine with) without touching Gabriel at all.

---

- LINDSAY HARDCORE SUCKS OMG

---

- Crowley is shoving plants back into Aziraphale’s face. You know what, I only just realised they have never had a single conversation onscreen about Crowley living in his car. Clearly it’s not a point of contention between them, from either side. Which is weird AF, but whatever works for these crazy kids I guess!

---

Ahh WW2 jazz band theme song! I can’t pick a favourite arrangement so far, they’re all so good.

[sygnasableye]

Teddy-isms List

Once again moving threads over from Twitter, and this one's about Teddy and what she's like to be around!

Teddy struggles with prolonged eye-contact. She also has a hard time focusing on listening to what someone is saying when she has to look at them, so she'll often turn her ear towards someone when listening and then look at them when responding. (Yes it's the autism)

Teddy has a bad habit of second-guessing herself (even if she's right) outside of pokémon battles and tends to be indecisive about multiple options. She much prefers that others make choices for her, although this sometimes means she ends up with an outcome unfavorable to her.

She's very polite and almost formal with people she's just met, but once someone gets close to her, they permanently unlock the GOOBER MODE(tm). Like many, Teddy likes to test the waters around new faces before letting her guard down socially. A good way to tell if Teddy is comfortable around you is if she infodumps to you about ghosts or any hyperfixations she might have at the moment. She hates small-talk and reserves it for people she's forced to talk to.

Teddy HATES noisy and busy environments. Major cities like Levincia and Saffron City are often sensory nightmares to her, and she's usually eager to either hole up in a hotel room the entire time she has to be in a city or get out of it as soon as humanly possible.

Being a ghost-type fanatic, it shouldn't be surprising that she's a fan of horror. However, she's actually quite easy to scare and still gets nightmares from certain movie scenes and stories. She's a bit like Noelle Holiday in that she finds horror comforting in a strange way.

She has a tea-kettley wheeze whenever she laughs especially hard and it deadass sounds like this. Red thinks it's really, really funny whenever she does this.

Teddy sometimes likes to appear scarier than she actually is, specifically to challengers or children. Ever since she found out her excited smile was creepy to some people, she's taken a liking to using it to her advantage as part of lighthearted pranks.

Teddy's into some forms of occultism and spellcasting! In fact, she isn't opposed to cursing people if she feels they've earned it -- she is a Hex Maniac, after all -- but as long as you're a decent-enough person, you're probably in the clear. She also collects Tarot decks and is more than happy to give out free readings, especially since she always carries a deck with her!

Her favorite type of pkmn is obviously Ghost, but she also likes Bug- and Dark-type pokémon as well. Had she not found such a deep affinity for Ghost-types early on in her Kanto journey, she likely would have become a Dark-type specialist instead.

Inversely, her least favorite type is probably Normal -- not because of the mutual immunity between it and Ghost-types, but because of how many noisy moves (Screech, Hyper Voice, etc.) and Pokémon (ESPECIALLY the Loudred line) the type is home to.

Despite her dislike of noisy environments and pokémon, and in contrast to her boyfriend, Teddy likes music with noisy/chaotic instrumentals -- it's an important form of expression for her, and it's a "controlled chaos" that she can pause whenever she needs a break. If they existed in the Pokemon world, her favorite artist would 100% be Ghost and Pals.

Leather is her least favorite texture for clothing. It feels "offensive" to her skin.

There is often a "slight draft" that follows Teddy around wherever she goes. This is because her Gengar is usually hiding in her shadow, watching over her as a protector; while Teddy herself doesn't mind the cold, the temperature drop is usually very apparent for others.