#i feel like i know and am mutuals with most of the regulars and its such a pleasure to get to share this mutual enjoyment with you all 💕

[jaarijani]

Last time I told myself I will be getting over a fandom obsession quickly, it last about 2 years 🥲 (I am not complaning tho, it's cozy here)

yeah hyperfixations can run anywhere between a month and about 5 years for me but hey as long as I'm enjoying myself I will be right here along with you ☺️

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Hi, ehm, this feels like asking directions on the street, similarly to that I didn’t pick your blog for any reason other than vibe. Anyway, my much appreciated local, I am kind of new here and I gotta say, I understand nothing of how this site works. I mean. Why are we putting stuff in the tags? Like people write whole ass paragraphs with # randomly sprinkled around like punctuation, it’s crazy out there. Also, how does one obtain so called ‘mutuals’? That seems cool

Idk I feel a barbarian thrown in royal banquet knowing nothing of the etiquette.

Thanks :)

Cool blog btw

Hello welcome to tumblr! You came to the right place bc I love explaining things. This is really long and kind of convoluted bc tags are multi-faceted so I am putting it under a “read more” and I hope this clarifies things instead of completely making it more confusing but here is my attempt to explain things

TAGS:

So Tagging serves several functions on tumblr, it is for organization, in a metadata sense, but it also serves as a sotto voce place for commentary.

Tags as Organization

- On your own original posts

- When you make a new post (art, commentary, a photo of a dog, etc) tagging is how you can add metadata for your own blog but most importantly for posts appearing in the searchable tags on the site.

which searchable tags are one of the ways fandom or other collective experiences happen on here. You can follow tags you like and they will show up on your dashboard (if you have those settings enabled. There are a lot of settings on tumblr and I’ll touch on those later in this post).

So when you make a new post when you add tags it will show up when people click on or search those tags. This is only when you put those tags when you initially post the post, tags you add in a reblog do not function to put the post in the public tag for that, only in the tags of your own blog for organization.

Only the first….10? Maybe 20 tags actually work for putting posts in the public tags (they changed this number a few years ago it used to be smaller).

Generally when making a new post I start with the fandom tags, then organizational tags, then random commentary.

Also for orignal posts and for fandom tags people follow, in recent years they’ve made it so words in the body of posts also show up in the tags. So if you’re really hating on a character and don’t want fans of that character to see it and argue etc I generally censor the name with some asterisk * marks. But that’s also bc I’m really not a fan of discourse and arguing online. (If I wanted to post “I hate Santa Claus so much and I don’t understand how anyone likes him his crimes in Rudolph are so awful I hate to even look at him” even if i didn’t put any tags at all it would show up in a search for “Santa claus” so I might put S*nta Cl*us instead. Bc my hater posts are just for my followers not for strangers. )

For example when I posted art this is how I tagged it

I start off with fandom organization tags. So this would show up for anyone following or searching the tag for “nightwing” or “batman fanart”. Then I use “my art” to organize all of my own art on my blog. Then the rest of the tags that are sentences are my own ‘director’s commentary’ on my art to share my thoughts about making it. These tags will show up on the post on my blog, and in the tag, but people looking at someone else’s reblog of my art will not see them and will see the reblogger’s tags instead.

ALSO tags are only so many characters long, so the accepted grammar is to just spill over into the next tag, like a line-break in regular writing document. The only punctuation that doesn’t work in tags is commas (since that is how tags are separated) and quotation marks. Whether or not people use punctuation and grammar is up to them.

- Tags on REBLOGS

So on your own blog when you tag things that you have reblogged its for a few reasons.

1. Organization, if you tag a post with a fandom or whatever tag you want, on your own blog you can click on that and see all the posts you have reblogged or posted with that tag. This is also nice for letting people blacklist or filter out fandoms they might not want to see (for example I tend to not tag memes and jokes but i do tag fandoms so that I can see those posts and so that people who don’t follow me for like 9-1-1 or Star Wars or whatever don’t have to see it if they don’t want to.)

2. Commentary. Tags on a reblog show up in the activity feed for the original poster of the post and the person you reblogged it from. And then people who follow you will see the post with your tags. TBH this is a way to make mutuals bc it is a way to share thoughts, jokes, praise artwork, etc in a way that comments on a post without modifying it. “Commenting” or typing onto the body of a post is perfectly fine but it is a little more permanent and public than writing in the tags. Commenting is when you want to raise your hand and contribute to the conversation in a bigger way (which is fine to do! Don’t let anyone tell you NEVER to comment on the body of posts). Writing in the tags is like… if you were sharing a meme with a friend standing next to you and you said something aloud while you shared it. Like it’s not the body of the post its thoughts. Like I might tag the name of a character that a post reminds me of. I’m not the most extensive tagger tbh EXCEPT i try to gush about fanart when I reblog it bc the artist sees that and that is the best place to say “wow I love the coloring and the expressions.”

Also! Random note but quotation marks do not work in the tags. They will take the words between quotation marks and shift them around. I use singular ‘ ‘ marks to work as quotation marks in the tags and that’s pretty standard.

MUTUALS:

Mutuals are just people you follow who follow you back. They’re a little over-emphasized since how much “mutuals” means varies entirely on individual levels of interaction. Since the interactions go two ways it feels friendlier than the relationship between a blog and a follower, but it isn’t the end all be all.

So making mutuals is not usually an overnight thing, it is easier if you are making original posts or writing or commentary but that isn’t necessary. It starts with following people. I follow artists, fic writers from ao3 who link their blogs, blogs that post images of animals, joke blogs etc, (most people follow about 300 blogs, I follow 3000 so I’m on the high end of that spectrum). Thinking about how to explain this Hmm. The reasons I will follow someone back are very random and depend entirely on whims but include, leaving interesting/funny tags on posts reblogged from me, posting about a show or character that I follow the tags for, art/writing, if someone I follow reblogs a lot from a blog I will check out that blog as well. Uh. Patience and keep interacting and posting are the answers. Fandoms are a big thing. Some people make fandom specific side blogs just to post about one single fandom on. These are easier to make mutuals with since people are also only interested in that single fandom.

Just keep posting and interacting and people will find you eventually.

UNSOLICITED SETTINGS ADVICE

“General settings” -> “dashboard preferences” and “filtering” are your best friends for optimizing your tumblr experience.

I turn off “best stuff first” since I want to see the truly chronological feed of what gets reblogged to my dashboard. I also don’t want to see posts “liked” by blogs I follow since that’s only if they have public “likes” on and if they don’t bother reblogging it then they didn’t want me to see it. TO ME a “like” is a little thumbs up between me and the OP and reblogger, and Reblogging is me dragging posts back to share with my followers. I do want to see posts from tags I follow so I have that enabled.

ENABLE TIMESTAMPS. This is helpful in keeping track of how far back on your dashboard you are AND on knowing if a screenshot of a news headline is from today or from like 2018. Explore settings in general.

ALSO FILTERING IS YOUR FRIEND. Filtering out tags or content from the body of posts is so important for customizing your experience. I filter out stuff I have a phobia of and want to avoid, I filter out comics I think have ugly art and don’t want to see, I filter fandoms I got tired of seeing, I filter ships I don’t like, etc. That way 1. I dont see posts I don’t want to see 2. If someone I follow is constantly putting things I don’t like on my dash It helps me decide to unfollow 3. If I’m contemplating following a new blog and half of their posts are things I have filtered it helps with that decision.

Filtering will hide a post if either the Original Poster’s tags or the person who reblogged it to your dashboard’s tags include tags you have specifically filtered.

AND spoilers! Spoilers tags are soooo useful for new movies and TV. People usually tag “#show spoilers” or “#show acronym spoilers” but if I’m really worried I will content filter character names so i dont see any posts about the show at all.

[vaas]

6 mutuals you want to get to know better!Was tagged by @mintchocolater

Favorite Color: its like a dead tie between like a deep forest green and a nice bloody burgundy. my favourite shade is black

Last Song: i heard 'real love baby' by father john misty in a youtube short about cats and i really liked it so ive been listening to it a lot. also 'sing about me, I'm dying of thirst' by kendrick lamar is a classic ive been returning to a lot recently. its not the kind of song you just loop thoughtlessly though

Currently Reading: both am and am not currently reading any books/manga. got a lot of stuff ive started but havent commited to or that im taking a break from. next on the list is probably blood meridian or the body scout for fiction. perfumes: the a-z guide and careless people for nonfiction.

Currently Watching: i have been keeping up with the new season of rick and morty does tgat count. thats it. i would like a new show but im feeling noncommittal since i finished common side effects (<-really good show btw)

Craving: the love of a good woman. also cranberry-raspberry juice

Coffee or Tea: im a tea guy i only drink coffee if its free and i have to. i love fruity bubble tea the most but genmaicha or oolong are my favourite regular plain teas. love a roasted leaf

Tagging: nobody. everybody. i dont know im very sleepy

[majorasnightmare]

I'm surprised that Dirge's pact with Caiphon (seemingly) hasn't backfired on him yet, considering Caiphon is known to betray people who rely on him so heavily. Especially since a part of Caiphon is literally inside his brain at any given moment. I don't know if he thought all of that through as well as he believes he did (remembering you said he doesn't understand how warlocks like Wyll aren't more thorough when making their pacts)

Have you thought about what the "right circumstances" are for their pact to be fufilled? What will happen to Dirge when they are?

honestly my only source for caiphon was a dragon article poorly photocopied YEARS ago that primarily focused on the fact it existed, and the various unique spells it offers. so most of my experience with caiphon was a single little blurb about how it entreated knowledge seekers! the fact its so betrayal prone doesnt surprise me in the slightest, but it IS new information! so most of this characterization is me looking at dnd content they didn't bring into 5e (regular 5e, havent checked out 2024) and saying My City Now. i am. significantly less canon compliant with a setting last published in 3.5 with a semi reliable wiki (at least. in 2017. its probably better now) and i more or less just expand on the little i have access to. basically, if you cant find it in bg3, im adding "source: it came to me in a dream" onto everything else i do sjdksjdmshfj

There IS a sizable language barrier there (caiphon being. a sentient star mass that only kiiiiinda can take a perceivable form and even then its a faulty approximation) so they had to negotiate in extremely loose terms as they werent mutually understandable. More or less a mutual fulfillment of desires. Caiphon would grant Dirge's desire, if Dirge would grant Caiphon's. Caiphon craves new and novel information, and Dirge desired freedom, so from the get go Caiphon is set up to get what it wants more or less immediately. Dirge is in a very unique position, set up by extenuating circumstances to do a LOT of interesting things, because up until Dirge and his brothers, Bhaal made spawn the Classic Way. So with Dirge being denied death, and heavily radicalized, there was NO way that WASN'T going to blow up spectacularly. Caiphon wanted front row seats to whatever historical event Dirge enacted that would scar Faerun forever. And it got that, and more! The inner workings of the cult, the relationships Dirge has with the other bhaalspawn, the intimate goings on with the cult of Bane through Gortash, the creation of the Steel Watch, the creation of the Absolute, the heist for the Crown of Karsus. Damn thing made out like a bandit. To say its satisfied would be an understatement, especially because it VERY much has the impression its exploiting Dirge, because of how little its (from its perspective) offering in return. The GOO lock options in game aren't really antagonistic, and I like to interpret that as Caiphon and Dirge unironically getting along fairly amicably.

Dirge meanwhile desired freedom, which, given his circumstances, was very much a One Big Event and then Done kinda deal. So his warlock powers are more or less confirmation they're still in a partnership together, which is part of why on the first night post nautiloid, Dirge can't actually recollect anything about the pact but feels Caiphon's power anyways. Its really kind of hands off for both of them. Caiphon's content to let Dirge use whatever he can figure out and master, because it isn't really doing much besides eavesdropping. Dirge's pact is fulfilled in the temple of Bhaal, when he rejects his father. Caiphon is able to transgress upon the material plane thanks to reality bowing to the terms of the pact, because as Dirge has fulfilled his end, he MUST be fully and totally freed of Bhaal. Thus his pact manifests physically and begins to utterly destroy the Temple, to break the foundation of power Bhaal has in the city, desecrating its holy ground, and snapping the tether to the Throne of Blood now that Dirge is fully disinherited, and Caiphon animates Dirge just enough to let him limp his way out of the city to camp, carrying Orin's gore streaked corpse, before completely collapsing. Caiphon didn't possess the capability to break Bhaal's bond to Dirge but it COULD ensure Bhaal couldn't ensnare him again. This does mean Dirge has to negotiate a new pact when Withers revives him, and getting a Witness for the ritual is a haaaard sell given. All That. (gortash will NOT do that shit again).

Dirge's second pact is similar to the first, having built up a solid amount of good will from the first pact. With Withers maintaining his life, Dirge more or less just desires power to enact his goals like he has been, and Caiphon still craves new novel information. So Caiphon shacks back up in his brain, and still uses Dirge's eye, and Dirge keeps all his warlock levels.

After the Absolute crisis is handled, Dirge feeds his pact by using Caiphon's power with the Necromancy of Thay to begin pioneering a new form of necromantic magic that gestates new soulless life out of dead raw material.

Fun fact! Because your GOOlock patron can chime in when getting the Blood of Lathander, I personally like to characterize Caiphon as finding pleasure in acts of blasphemy, and in sharing Dirge's fondness for magic artifact goodies. So because of that, Caiphon actually points out the Ersatz Eye in Volo's possession before Volo brings it up, but insinuates Volo won't give it up except out of guilt, so Dirge white knuckles it through the Volo lobotomy. They're both under the impression they're exploiting the other, because neither of them really has to lift a finger for their pact, but its mutually satisfying so they have a good relationship with each other. Caiphon is not immune to charismatic tiefling spawn. They chat occasionally in Dirge's mind, and Caiphon has a decent grasp on common, but it'd still be a profoundly uncomfortable experience for literally anyone that isn't Dirge.

[safety-pin-punk]

Hey dude, got recommended by one of my mutuals to come over to your blog n ask you for some advice. I’m wanting to get started on making myself a patch jacket, but i’m not really sure where to start.

The same mutual told me i should probably buy a jacket from a charity shop, and to use fabric from leftover jeans to make the patches. I do have a couple of questions though:

1- Is using jean material ideal? I’m not sure if the pair i have are actual jean material or just. Something else fjdtpjfjgvhddjfjd. If not, what material should I use?

2- If i do end up using the jeans i’m planning on using, they’re very light blue, and i want the patches i make out of it to be black. Would just dying the material black work, or is there a better/more efficient way of getting the fabric to be black?

3- What mix of paint should i use on the patches? I’ve heard a lot of answers, but the one i’ve heard the most is a mix of fabric and acrylic paint. What do you recommend?

That’s all the questions i have, i think. If there are any more tips about it, I would love to hear them. Cheers!

I am SO sorry that I took so long to get to this, but like. The last three months have been. Less than ideal for me (as many of my followers know) and I'm just now kinda getting back to my regularly scheduled programming.

I do agree with your mutual though! If you can thrift a jacket or even use an old one you have, you are set! But to get to your questions:

You can use whatever material you'd like! Jean is very common, but you usually need larger needles to work with it (at least I do lol). But I've made patches out of old shirts too.

Dying the material works perfectly fine, but personally when I make patches that I don't want the background to just be the color of the jeans, I paint it the color I want in advance and let it dry. You could even pain a whole pant leg black in advance for when you randomly want to make patches. TBH I even do this with black jeans, I just prefer the look of it fully painted even if the jeans are already black, but do whatever makes you happy

I 100% recommend the 50/50 fabric and acrylic paint mix. Its a nice combination of affordable and functional. But a lot of other things work too. Plain fabric paint works, but is expensive. Some people add a fabric paint mix thing to their regular acrylics. Endless possibilities.

I'm sure since its been so long since you've asked this that you have already started this jacket and figured some things out for yourself, but feel free to ask more questions if you have any!

[vertejay]

hello :) you wanted asks, so here i am! curious about your domestic life in general — eg:

how are the chores split? who does what? how did you decide on that?

aesthetics of your home. what kind of decor? fancy? made yourselves? what colors? any sentimental value in them?

what does a regular, mild day at home look like?

THANK YOU DEARLY FRIEND!! Your theme is so pretty omg

HOW ARE THE CHORES SPLT? WHO DOES WHAT? HOW DID YOU DECIDE ON THAT? Mostly depends on who’s home!! It’s split pretty evenly, and we don’t have « assigned chores », just do what’s convenient kind of? However he insists on doing the laundry because he worries the loads of clothes we go through would be too heavy or strenuous for me, but I’m like as strong as he is (half joke) saurrr . . . no, but it is endearing that he worries over such small things, and I fold and put it away. Since I do most of the cooking, I’ll do the dishes, he’ll put them away. The longer we live together, the more there was a mutual understanding that we just silently made chores a two-man job, it’s cute to think about tbh.

AESTHETICS OF YOUR HOME. WHAT KIND OF DECOR? FANCY? MADE YOURSELVES? WHAT COLORS? ANYTHING SENTIMENTAL VALUE IN THEM? I like to think of the aesthetic to be warm and cozy, i moved in with him, and the place he had was a lot bigger than I was used to living. Coming from someone with a big family LMFAO so I took liberty with the space and tried to use decor and lighting to manipulate it in a way that it didn’t feel as big, but not in a way that was maximalist. Lots of natural lighting, big lights are banned, and that was his suggestion more than mine, so lots of ambient light. Rather neutral as the base, but pops of color (like oranges, greens, pinks, etc) in things such as throw pillows, plants, throw blankets, etc etc like the small things that just nicely bring it all together. It feels like childhood and a warm hug that was long over due, he says. I wanted to give him a home that he wouldn’t dread coming home to, that he knew was his home. If that makes sense? I got most of the decor from thrifting, so there’s trinkets around, pretty pottery and dishes (that we use, not as decor), things that were well loved once, and will continue to be in our home. The most we have that’s been made by us is some letters I wrote, he hung on the fridge as a reminder for both of us. There are cute letter and sentence magnets that we sometimes communicate with in passing!! As for sentimental value, there are a couple small things that we’ve both inherited from our families that are laying around as decor, some tucked away because we couldn’t bear to say no haha.

WHAT DOES A REGULAR, MILD DAY AT HOME LOOK LIKE? Sae somehow managed to fix my sleep schedule after living my entire life with insomnia, I don’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but I noticed after awhile we were going to bed a little earlier and we finally fell in a schedule together. We still sleep in on our days off, or at least stay in bed a little longer to just take in the moment: the smell of the others cologne from the night before that seeped its way into the sheets, their shampoo, the soft warm light peeking through, and the smell of summer more often than not, limbs comfortably entangled almost as far as our souls. Most of the time he’ll end up bringing us breakfast in bed to enjoy together, and we’ll debrief about parts of our week we didn’t get to earlier, and just talk. Our off days are just soft, intimate moments that I wouldn’t trade for the world. We’ll use those to make up for the moments we couldn’t have, and give each other our utmost love and undivided attention, usually our phones are untouched on days like thing, aside from the occasional time checks.

[owlstronomer]

Time passes, moving in a continuous loop that feels impossible to navigate. Though Stolas still regularly follows Blitz's calendars for the dates, most days seem to blur and and bleed together. He leans against the balcony railing. In one hand he holds a thin cigarette in one hand, his other bracing an open journal, keeping it aloft and safe from falling.

The latest entries within its lined pages are filled with scrawling letters filled with rambling thoughts, frustrations, confessions, fears, and heartfelt spillage. Tonight's was no different. Only, it was long. Longer than most of his writings. Stolas found himself either furiously scribbling words or whole lines out, tearing pages from the journal and crumpling them with furious clicking of beak, or crying into the pages until the ink ran. Some survived untouched, haunting the lines like ghostly conversations, but most met one of the chosen destructive fates.

He blows smoke and watches it curl and twist away. He wishes desperately that it could be him, slipping into the air, winding between buildings, dodging anything that might come his way. Or perhaps it was the act of disappearing so entirely that enticed him. Snubbing the cigarette out, he leaves it in a plastic tray left outside. It was the last one in his pack, and Stolas had made it last. He made a silent promise to himself not to continue the habit, or to at least make an effort to let it go for several weeks. It was costly, after all, and he wanted to try finding other methods to relieve the negative energy in his body and mind without the use of some form of substance. Before it was alcohol and he'd be willing to even say sex. Now it was cigarettes and the occasional, almost regular self-destructive habits he'd fallen back on.

With Loona and Blitz both presently away from the apartment, Stolas took the opportunity to continue filling its pages with his grief. After all, he didn't feel much like singing, and there was no elaborate or lush garden to hide in to theatrically convey his woes. He lowers himself onto the balcony floor, stretching long legs and talons. With a heavy sight, the pen meets paper once more.

𝒯𝑜 𝒲𝒽𝑜𝓂 𝐼𝓉 𝑀𝒶𝓎 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓃, 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝑀𝒶𝓎 𝒜𝓈 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝐵𝑒 𝑀𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻,

I have given it some thought. Rather, I have given it a great deal of thought. Every day, every evening, every waking moment in which my accursed heart beats within this frail feathered chest.

Nothing new has been confirmed, only more thoroughly understood. The conclusion I have come to is not surprising, but it brings me pain. It riddles me with fear once again, and I feel myself at the precipice of disaster. A disaster of my own making, that is. We you and I shall be partners in crime; you are my most trusted confidant. This secret you shall keep for me, at least for now.

I love him. I love Blitz.

I knew this already, but I failed to understand the weight, the truth, the power behind it. Not only that, but I refused to think it truly possible, especially after. . . .

The problem, my silent friend, is that I do not find myself worthy of his love should it be returned. I am also, perhaps, afraid of both possibilities: rejection and mutual acceptance. Because though I know Blitz cares about me, he must for I am here, living with him and his daughter, being tended to and cared for, and offered a position in his esteemed company. . . . I do not know if he loves me. And even if he did, I do not know that I could accept it. Not right now. Now when he provides me with so, so much. Not when I have so little to offer. Not when I haven't had the opportunity to apologize. No. . . . the opportunity is always there. But I haven't the correct words, the time, yet, to make it worthwhile.

I am afraid that he will loathe me for loving him after everything that has transpired. And in equal measure, I fear that he will love me too.

You see, I am not an easy person to love. I still have so much to learn, to overcome, to reset. And I am in no position to make demands, to propose partnership, or spill such confessions. He deserves to be free of me. I cannot tell him that I love him when he is stuck with me under the same roof. It feels too much like a horrible and deadly trap. An inconvenience. I do not want him to resent me so soon. He needs the opportunity to. . . . to not have to worry or fuss over me.

I had him on the Full Moons, and when I called for him. He always answered. It would be a disservice to him, to spill my heart before him and lay it at his feet, asking if he felt the same. I would surely be a monster then; a deplorable and wretched thing. And I do not know how I would fare without both Octavia and Blitz. . . . It is selfish, perhaps, to keep these feelings locked away, written only for my eyes. Our dirty little secret, you and I, Journal. But I am a broken man with nothing to give but the shattered pieces of myself that I am slowly, terribly putting back together. And I have taken enough from him already.

So for now. . . . love will have to wait. I must traverse these fond feelings and aching desires on my own. I shall turn them into something useful, perhaps, hopefully. And one day, Blitz will be free of me and my shadow. Whether or not he will ever know the depth of my love for him is to remain a mystery. But I shall ensure he knows how grateful I am, how appreciative, and just how much I cherish our friendship, if he still considers me as such.

It grows late, and I think I hear their footfalls.

Farewell until next time. 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓈

He closes the journal with trembling hands and clutches it close. With a shuddering breath, Stolas retreats back into the apartment and tucks it under one of the couch cushions, into a hole worn into the material where it can remain hidden.

[doodlebug-aboo]

Get to know your mutuals! 🥰

tagged by @impracticalantlers 🫶

i don’t do a lot of these because i tend to forget about them if i don’t have time to do them right when i first see them, but this one resurfaced again while scrolling so i thought why not 🫡 this got LONG tho so i’m just putting all of it under a read more lmao

favorite color: i’m pretty shit at picking singular favorites so i can offer you a few options. i love a good mustard yellow, a good pumpkin orange, or a good emerald green. (or most other dark greens, they’re all gorgeous. i just look best in emerald so i’m slightly more biased towards that one) however i will say there are no colors that i truly dislike!! huge fan of colors in general over here tbh. happy pride.

currently reading: eeeeeehhhhhhh i should be reading more. i have such a long list of books to read and so many books in my bookshelf that i havent even read, and most of those aren’t even on the list!!!! it’s bad, y’all. i’m sure the last book i had open however would have been my copy of Howl’s Moving Castle that i was reading for like the fourth or fifth time?? so obligatory shout out to my favorite book of all time (remember how i just said how bad i am at favorites? that’s how much i love this book) other than that: the next book i plan to read (and hopefully soon at that) is the colorado kid by stephen king, because the show i just finished watching was based on that book and i feel the need to compare the differences now that i’ve finished the show.

last song: any number of songs from epic: the musical. i have been listening to that musical nonstop for at least a week now? maybe longer?? idk it has me in a chokehold right now. my sister hasn’t listened to it and has the songs stuck in her head just from how often i’ve been singing them/talking about them. but also i do believe the first time i saw the tag for this technically the very last song i had listened to was broadway here i come from the television series smash as sung by jeremy jordan.

most recent film: listen i. simply do not watch movies. not with any sort of frequency or regularity that i could even begin to try and accurately remember the last one i watched. i am sorry. to make up for it i will instead substitute a topic not already listed in this tag game: most recent game. for that, i would say that i’ve been playing almost exclusively dragon age games for over a year now, and that also i play a lot of different games at the same time. i don’t always stick to one, i’ll hop around. so at the moment i’m almost done with my first run of veilguard, while also playing origins for the third time, i finally completed inquisition right before starting veilguard, and i’ve already also started another inquisition run. (i’ve only played 2 like one and half times. i intend to play it again soon tho because i miss kirkwall). on top of that i’ve also been playing stardew valley again, as well as i picked up night in the woods again. been a while for that one and i don’t fully remember everything but i’m using it as inspiration for a kids on bikes one shot i’m working on. (and of course deltarune is deltasoon, so i’ll be hopefully able to play that soon as well)

most recent series: haven! a syfy show from 2010-2015 that, as mentioned previously, was based on the colorado kid by stephen king! i really quite liked the show, i thought the premise was interesting and i loved all the characters and that’s enough for me! sure the effects look a little funny sometimes but that only ever adds to something’s charm for me personally. sometimes it’s good that media shows its age, it shows the progress we’ve made. this goes for visuals as well as general content within btw. anyways. watch haven. scream with me about audrey/duke/nathan. you know you want to.

sweet/salty/savory/sour: hard for me to choose between sweet and salty. i’m a big fan of mixing the two in fact, and if that’s an option then know that that is in fact my preferred answer. for the sake of choosing one however probably salty? a good crunchy, salty snack is all i need sometimes.

currently working on: oh, just a mountain of drawing wips in so many different stages of completedness. here’s a non-exhaustive list if any mutuals want to (lovingly) pressure me into completing any of them

-drawtectives midnight alley fanart piece

-klavier’s tattoos

-fhsy kristen fanart that i’ve been trying to finish for over a year (may or may not have a little smth to do with a unicorn iykyk)

-abernant sisters “will you be my big sister” comic redraw (of youve seen the original, you get it)

-klapollo howl’s moving castle au joke piece (single scene from the book as a two-panel comic)

-every dragon age companion from every game. (this one is hardly more than an idea currently. i’ve only barely started just figuring out drawing them in my style. it will take a lot of time.)

-ace attorney fantasy au (this one is purely idea right now i don’t even have sketches started but trust me when i say i have IDEAS for a whole WORLD with these guys) (this could potentially go from drawing idea to writing idea bc i do have a full story thought out but i feel less confident in my abilities to write the full story than i do in my abilities to draw them all in fantasy designs and then talk about the story behind them)

whew! this got away from me but with the amount i love to ramble on and on in my posts or my tags, this is what we signed up for. i never know who to tag for these things and i’m always worried i’ll bother my mutuals with them (despite never once myself feeling bothered by them, so why do i think others would be???? couldn’t tell you) but you know. so i’ll just be tagging a few but anyone else feel free and anyone i tag do not feel obligated. there. bases covered.

@fastidious-and-a-mess @dani-the-toad @patrocool @rainbow-nerdss @chandclicrsandcaviar

and if i tagged you and you read this far: i’m sorry that you read through all of that. if i tagged you and you didn’t get this far: i’m apologizing to you, too, but you’ll never see it :(

[velvet-games]

intro post

name/pronouns/age/gay shit~

honestly you can call me whatever, but I probably won't know you're talking about me unless you use vel/velvet.

prefer they/it; any pronouns are fine.

non-binary

adult

queer (probably aego)

what I do/post~

I mostly post fandom stuff, and my original posts include a lot of art + occasional meta. I'm starting write fic too, so that might be a more regular thing in the future :)

other accounts~

@/velvet-games -- explicit nsfw bluesky account, not very active

@/velvetygames -- explicit nsfw twitter/x account, probably gonna stop posting on here

@cornerbytes -- old dragon prince account that I may or may not revisit eventually

@/velvet_games -- ao3 account

tags~

#velvetrambles -- textposts

#my art -- art tag (duh)

#red velvet cake -- aroace-related stuff

nsfw~

I post occasional nsfw here (almost never explicit; that's saved for my bluesky/twitter); it'll be tagged #nsft.

fandoms~

current fandoms: arcane/hazbin hotel

previous fandoms:

hannibal (will always have a very special place in my heart)

ofmd (literally so happy this exists; devastated it's not getting a new season)

the dragon prince (was gonna revisit it when the new season came out but the first couple episodes were kinda boring lmao; should I still give it a shot?)

good omens

lotr

things in media that make me go insane (in a good way)~

friendship

cannibalism

romance that feels like queer-baiting until it isn't (ex. ofmd)

good visuals (even if everything else is shit; extra points if it's animation)

good costume/character design

religious stuff, mythology, angels specifically for some reason (especially when they're terrifying and/or fallen)

gay people

requests~

you are welcome to send in ideas through comments, DMs, asks, etc., but I can't guarantee I'll draw them. if I don't, it doesn't mean that I don't like your idea; I'm probably just busy or have too many brainworms about a specific thing to draw anything but what's on my mind.

notes~

I randomly get really anxious about feedback on stuff sometimes lol, but I promise I read every single comment/tag and cherish them very deeply <33

also, like/rb spamming is totally fine and welcomed! I know some people don't like it, so I just wanted to make it clear that it's completely cool with me.

mutuals~

for a really long time, this was my pinned post, and it's still true! definitely welcome any interactions from mutuals <3

I do have a problem with randomly ghosting people though; I've been much better with it recently, but please try not to take it personally if I don't respond to DMs quickly. I'm probably just being insane and in my head about it. I'm really sorry.

misc~

this is an account that is purposely removed from my irl stuff; I'm here to have fun and relax on my mostly fandom-oriented blog.

I don't block often since I mostly meet nice people on here, but I am very happy to block accounts that make my experience on this app shitty.

I try to tag triggers when appropriate, but please let me know if you need me to tag anything I haven't.

art for me is just a hobby I use for fun and self-expression, so while I really appreciate concrit, keep in mind that my goal is ultimately to make stuff that makes me happy.

I am also very protective of young artists that get made fun of for being beginners or making unconventional art; you should never assume why someone is making art, and you especially should not assume that they are focused on becoming more skilled or making things that are beautiful to you. if they're not hurting anyone and you're not their target audience, get the fuck out.

I am of the mindset that media is not real, but that your reaction/the things you learn are. liking cannibal media does not make you a cannibal, but seeing bigoted portrayals of minorities can feed your biases (doesn't necessarily mean you can't consume it; does mean its effect on you/others irl should factor into if/how you decide to interact with it).

most important thing: have fun! tumblr is silly and should be treated as such.

[obsidianwarden]

𝕽𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕰𝖓𝖌𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙

Disclaimer:

I am a roleplayer and I claim no right of ownership of the character or its media. I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter, nor the face claims used in any way.

About

This blog is discourse and drama free - I do not wish to associate with J.K.R. and I do not endorse her opinions and transphobia in any form.

I go by Grimm and am well past 21+, I do not interact with minors in this space due to mature themes on this blog, please don’t take it personally.

Original blog from 2018 - rebooted Feb 2025.

I will write with anyone, canon & OC.

I mean no offence through opinions expressed in character.

I roleplay everything, including dark and mature themes, but will respect other writers’ triggers and rules. Please feel free to reach out if you need me to tag any triggers.

Duplicates welcome! I really enjoy reading other portrayals and sharing headcanons, but I will never disrespect you by copying your headcanons or portrayal. 

I don't follow personals (unless they have a RP side blog, so please let me know) to avoid to dashboard clutter, but I welcome interactions with non-mutuals. If we become a regular thing I will follow back!

This blog may at times contain NSFW material, but I will always tag it.

Please @ me in posts as my tag doesn’t always work.

Characterisation Guidelines and Info

I will roleplay any event in Severus’ life and any timeline. Give me all the post war AUs!

I will roleplay multiple storylines/verses with different people. This mean that in most cases each storyline will be a separate verse and will not affect any other storyline. 

I will roleplay with OCs but please do not assume they are related to my Severus without asking me first. I like a build up to things. I am not okay with sons/daughters/long lost lovers and the like unless we’ve developed a good plot, and even then I am very sceptical about it.

If Severus is unpleasant with your character, remember it is just a matter of characterisation - so please don’t take it personally! We all know Severus is a piece of shit not exactly a delightful man, and he absolutely loathes the Marauders. Don’t expect him to be nice most of the time, by default he will be professor bastard.

Any pairing is possible as long as there is a good build up. Do I crackship? Come find out ;)

Please keep in mind though that Snape is very traumatised and guarded, therefore reluctant to commit and can be quite harsh, pretty and even cruel. He enjoys humiliating people so don’t expect it to be easy to sway him. I assure you though, I will make it worth your while! But won't be the outwardly romantic and affectionate type.

Not keen on student/teacher relationships unless they are of age / former students. He would not entertain an illegal liaison with some random student.

Rules 

I. No disrespect! And no Snape hate please. I am aware of his flaws and it's why I love him and exploring the nuances of his flawed character. He's my awful sourpuss. II. Please, no godmodding. Even if you’re a god. You're welcome to discuss things with me first.  III. Please don't pester me for replies. That said please feel free to submit reminders every once in a while but if you are rude about it I will not engage - this is a safe space for me. IV. No real life drama (but character related drama more than welcome ;)) - and that means using the anonymous feature to involve me in RPC drama, or attacking me over something my character has said/done, my portrayal and the fact that I may I take a long time to reply or prioritise some rpers over others. If you don’t like it, please don’t follow me, and feel free to block me. If you have a problem with me or I have offended you, please come to me in private first before calling me out. That being said I appreciate and welcome constructive criticism about my roleplaying/writing skills; I won’t turn you away if you need me for comfort/advice. V. Shipping: I am open to all ships strictly of age, especially with development and characterisation.  While it’s fine for it to be mentioned in a character’s history, I will not engage or write out sexual abuse in the context of ships. It is not shipping. VI. If you don’t like or can’t work with something I wrote for you, please tell me straight away. 

                                                         ***

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I look forward to writing with you!

[mousemannation]

My reasons for voting against it: My feeling is that tennisblr is already more divided than ever and giving people a platform to publish “controversial” takes they aren’t willing to put their name on, is the last thing this place needs. I know you believe you can moderate it, but people will likely still veil their attacks on the players they don’t like and that can be hard to see through. And/or controversial takes will start discourses that could quickly spiral into something worse. I know a lot of people have migrated here from other platforms precisely because they wanted to get away from that type of stuff.

maybe im missing it but I hadn't found tennisblr any more or less divided than before, granted I've only been here this year.

From my perspective we all already made jokes and sillyposts that can sound mean to outsiders so I don't really think it'd be that different if it was anon or not. It's true maybe I'd miss one that wasn't meant in jest but that's kind of true for any post. I get that bc it's anon there's no one to have take accountability, but there's a point where we're all somewhat anonymous anyway. Any one of us at any point could say something crazy then deactivate and just make a new blog. Or make a burner. If someone really wanted to say something heinous they could whether I provide this platform or not.

I will say, I know many people come to tumblr to get away from discourse in their fandoms that permeates other platforms but its not like discourse doesn't exist on tumblr, and I don't think it's necessarily fair to expect me to not open my blog up for more serious discussions if I want. Again, I will clarify that when I say discourse, the discussions I would allow would be informed, calm, and most importantly sourced- im not interested in petty gossip. There is a place on this platform for serious discussions and I am prepared to moderate my posts so it doesn't start to spiral. Maybe I'll only post them once a month or something like that too so the mood isn't always being dragged down.

When I make serious posts I am generally open to discussion, especially since I know i have blindspots. It's me wanting to start a conversation. The invitation for serious confessionals it's just me asking if anyone else wants to start that conversation first.

This blog is my only (public) interaction with the tennis fandom, I am not on twitter or reddit at all, i don't particularly interact with tennis fan content on instagram. This is the only place I talk about tennis with other tennis fans. Sometimes that includes serious discussions. I've made a couple serious posts, so it's not like it's totally out of character for this blog, and i do try to be as diligent as possible so people who do not want to see that content do not have to. I always employ read mores and tags for blocklists and my blog tag for serious posts. The same would go for these confessional posts.

Look, I'm not trying to fuck with the ecosystem of tennisblr. I recognise that I have pretty good interaction here and a decent number of followers, so my posts would generally end up on many people's dashes. I know that my posts don't exist in a vacuum. But there's also a point where it's still my blog and any of u who follow me or follow enough of my mutuals to see my posts regularly have to take ur tumblr experience into ur own hands.

This would only be one small section of the posts I make, I'm still gonna be posting 99.9% fun, regular posts. I'm hoping most of the confessionals would also be 99.9% fun, light-hearted posts. If u like those sorts of posts I'd hope Ur experience of my blog would stay mostly the same. If u do not want to see the serious posts u can filter [ #serious posts ] if u do not want to see any confessionals u can filter [ #mouse man national confession booth ] if this is a total deal breaker for u u can block me entirely, I won't take offence.

[etherealspacejelly]

You wanted asks so here’s one

How’s your week so far and do you get annoyed by one person reblogging like a bunch of your stuff bc it’s all over their dash?

(What’re you talking about this totally isn’t all about bc your posts are all over my dash and I reblog so many of them and I feel like it’s annoying)

But it’s an ask so :]

-Oz

my week so far has been ok. i had a doctors appointment and i switched banks (because fuck barclays) and i went food shopping yesterday. ive been playing the sims 4 a lot recently, thats been fun.

and ofc i dont mind. i have several mutuals who will literally scroll through my blog liking and reblogging stuff as if its their dash and i find it endearing. like ah, you like my wares! come come, there is plenty more!

the people who reblog a bunch of my posts who arent my mutuals i end up recognising their urls. there are plenty of people that when i see them im like oh hey its you! even tho i have uhhh *coughs* 2661 followers *coughs* but yeah. i know my regulars

take you for example! i see you around a lot so even tho we arent moots i still recognise you in my notifs. just scrolling through my notifs from this morning, i recognise people like iamshmolfrog, lyrasringofstardust, and dontbe-lasanya

so yeah. dont be afraid to interact with my posts a bunch. i dont mind it at all. and it helps me to recognise my followers!

also my posts are good and i am the most correct person on this website. feel free to prev tags me when i make a really funny joke because im hilarious. you're welcome

[pastelprince18]

✨🌸INTRO🌸✨

✨Hello their my beloved little fellas, My name is Ray ! I usually post my art weather being doodles, wips, sketches, paintings or finished pieces being fandom stuff or my own  projects [which is rare because I'm shy to share my very own content you can follow @pastel-prince-content] I would appreciate if you do see my art anywhere where they're pretending to be me or steal it to DM me and NOT harass anybody <:] , but if you do share my work PLEASE CREDIT ME! /Gen✨

✨ Short Info✨

💖Ray [Perfered] , Raylin, Pastel

💖Adult

💖 Puerto Rican

💖 Demi Girl [She/They/Her/Them]

💖Lesbian, Ace

💖Taken 11/13/13

💖#Kbyeart is my art-tag 

💖Self-Taught Artist 

💖Can Be a bit too talktive </3

💖Gamer [CLOSE FRIENDS ONLY ASK FOR SWITCH CODE]!!

💖COMMISSION CHART HERE If interested please dm on my platforms: Tumblr, Discord, and Bluesky all under the same name :]

💖Can get anxious meeting new people either too shy or too excited 

⭐️Interests⭐️

🌸Mario Rabbids Series 

🌸Rabbids Invasion

🌸Cuphead

🌸Sanrio

🌸Spongebob 

🌸Mario.Bros 

🌸 Pastel, Hospital, Nostalgic Core Aesthetic 

🌸Carebears 

🌸Regular Show

🌸Plushies 

🌸Pretty Blood 

🌸The Bad Guys 

🌸Happy Tree Friends 

🌸Rayman

🌸BFB

🌸Inanimate Insanity

🌸Sonic

⛈DNI⛈

Proshipper

Basic Racism,Bigots,Homophobics, Transphobic 

Art Thief

Discourse Accounts 

NFT’s Cryptic 

DDLGS 

Cringe Culture [Ya know the people who say “THATS CRINGE EW”]

You harass me or any of my friends/ mutuals. That is automatic block

Also Spamming inbox + Dms will be blocked 

Dream SMP Fans 

Fetish Artist 

Vizpop Fans

HH and HB stuff, I don’t wanna hear nothing of that shit, please block me or i’ll block you I don’t nothing to do with it or see it on my damn feed /srs

🍒BYF🍒

As stated before I do talk a lot, I usually ramble about my own HC, Oc Stuff, Ships, Ideas or even things I really enjoy from games, shows movies ect. I hope you are prepared on what I will share here. And just know it is for fun and I would love for ya’ll to also share your ideas <3 

I tend to have depressed episodes sometimes, if you do see me writing things on here mainly at night, its where I can show during that time since I feel bad for venting too much to friends. I feel bad even venting out just to let steam off, sorry for advance :’]

I open request when I feel like it weather being I am art blocked, have no ideas or no motvation. IT IS A RARE MOMENT, PLEASE DO NOT SPAM MY INBOX!!! IF I HAVE NOT DONE UR REQUEST I WILL GLADLY DO IT WHEN I AM FREE 

 Speaking of the first one. Do not spam inbox please, I have gotten that lately and I tend to get anxious or annoyed since I can't always answer stuff, I do have a job and I tend to get sidetrack, even if I am not in the best mental state please do not be on top of me, I do not like that.

My art takes quite a bit to post weather being a painting or digital art, I work 5 days a week and usually it drains me where I am at. usually cause of that my motivation drains fast. I know I say I promise to do things and I will keep that promise, even if its months too late I'll try to work on it <3

Don’t call my art hot or sexy if I don’t know you at all and especially if you’re a minor- I don’t like when people in general call my art hot or sexy [Unless you’re my close friend than idm <3]

Thank you all for dropping by and hope to get to know most of you all :’]

[oatmilktruther]

16 and 46 for the ask challenge! For 46 I'm curious about your style both narratively and in voice (yours is so unique and I'm obsessed with it) and maybe how you went about developing it (if you even can answer that idk).

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

LOL technically i have so many because none of them are really abandoned but off the top of my head the ones that i consistently think about… vampire stede, lesbian car guy ed, regency marriage of convenience and mutual pining, and fight club not Fight Club. the regency marriage of convenience one is the one im most craving to finish because i havent seen anyone else write marriage of convenience/arranged marriage in a way that really hits the spot but basically my concept is Stede and Ed meet and become friends as teenagers and as they get older Stedes parents are pressuring him to marry someone with a title to give their family legitimacy (which Ed has) and Eds parents are pressuring him to marry anyone at all (he is trans and they are worried no one will want him because hes not “a proper young lady”) and Ed knows Stede would never expect him to be anything but Ed, so he asks him to marry him so he can just live his life and Stede of course says yes. Thus ensues years of mutual pining (and Ed of course living his best life and getting to Ye Old Transition in peace). im regular about this idea and gender and intimacy (lying)

46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

omg thank you for being so so kind this means a lot to me it feels good to know i offer something unique. i would say it’s very emotion driven but primarily because i get so incredibly anchored in the character whose POV im writing from. like i am an emotional person myself so when i get down to writing something im living in my characters head and feeling all their feelings so i can put them on the page. most of my plotting is driven by how its going to make the character feel.

and my voice is most often a variation on an Ed Teach ADHD special, though sometimes its the Stede Bonnet Autism Express, but as i mentioned in an earlier ask the thing that unites them most often is a sense of rhythm. And the main way that i developed this was just listening to so so so much music while im reading and writing and also reading a lot and basically absorbing a lot of language, most especially lyrics, and then actually being auDHD myself. so like a combination of the way i am a rabbity erratic thinker naturally and having absorbed so much musicality and lyricism and rhythm into my brain while associating it with “regular” written prose ive just tried to imbue as much of that as possible into my writing. and then the other thing is like. i get bored easily myself so like. i really dont want to get bored writing and i really dont want my readers to get bored either. so every time i write something new i want it to feel new in general and new for me and i want it to have as much motion and dynamism as possible. well i talked longer than i meant to but i hope this is coherent. thank you again for the ask and for being so kind 💖

[pikmininaplane]

Hello dear mutual LB lanuel Bals third of its name, i do not know a SINGLE thing abt d20 i only rbed because a mutual drew that and i thus extend the official invite to feel free to info dump to me abt it (PLEASE !!! only if u want ofc peeposhy) and also where should i start if i were to try to get into it (asking for me)

thank u and have a great ballsy day <33 uwu

Oh em gee it’s Moo Peng my beloved tumblr dot com mutual haiii ^w^ And thank you SO much for giving me an opportunity to talk about this >:D This might get long tho

D20, aka Dimension 20, is a RPG (mostly D&D) show that you can watch on Dropout (smaller American streaming service, but it has really good content <3), though some seasons are on Youtube!

There are 21 seasons in total so far, but each one is its own campaign (well, except for the 3-4 sequel seasons), which means you can absolutely jump right into a later season and still get what’s going on :] Also the seasons range from 20 episodes to 4, so you don’t always need to find the emotional resolve to sit through 20 2-hours long episodes lol

The fanart you reblogged is of Ayda, a character from Fantasy High, which is basically the poster child of D20 – it was the first season, and it later got two sequel seasons, Sophomore Year (which is the exact one Ayda is from) and Junior Year, the most recent season, as well as two spin-off seasons with locations/characters from its world (Pirates of Leviathan and The Seven (it’s kinda funny actually because I know you’re a PJO fan and, well, I often see posts about it in that season’s tag because of the name X))) Mostly it’s about a bunch of teenagers in a fantasy 80s-esque high school trying to solve mysteries and going on adventures!

Fantasy High is not my personal favorite, however – the medal of honor goes to A Court of Fey and Flowers and Mentopolis, respectively the "fey regency/romance" season and the "Inside Out but as a film noir" season <3 But there’s plenty I love!! There’s a space opera season, a "Game of Thrones but with food" season, a heist season, a furry murder mystery season, a fairytale horror season… the list goes on! It even featured a bunch of drag queens on a season :D

There’s only four seasons available on Youtube, unfortunately, but they’re all really good so here they are:

Fantasy High

I’ve mentioned it before, so I won’t elaborate, but I’ll add that it’s 17 episodes long!

Fantasy High: Sophomore Year

Also mentioned before, but I’ll add that this season was recorded live on Twitch so while it’s a lot of people’s favorite, it has occasional problems (especially audio-wise). 20 episodes long

Escape from the Bloodkeep

Lord of the Rings parody – the villain lords find themselves scrambling when not-Sauron suddenly dies and they’re forced to work together to bring him back :3c 6 episodes long, features Matt Mercer of Critical Role fame

The Unsleeping City

Urban fantasy, turns out there’s a whole magical side of New York that regular people can’t see, and a group of unlikely heroes band together to face the bad parts of that magical side >:3c 17 episodes long, there’s also a second season of it but it isn’t out on Youtube unfortunately :(

The next season, Never Stop Blowing Up, is coming out in like a week and a half, based on the trailer, it’s going to be a Jumanji-like 80s action movies parody and I am!! Very excited!! :D

[yeastymuffin]

It is well into thursday afternoon, the curse of living in Europe i guess, but I'll still post something for the wip wednesday. Thanks for tagging me @paperstomach!! :D

I don't know which one of my mutuals are working on stuff, so if you see this, feel free to share your wips (even if it isn't wednesday) and tag me in it if you want some feedback or just a fun comment ^-^

I have two things I am working on at the moment (three if you include my thesis 🤐) so I'll post both. One being a sapphic Victorian-esque ghost story about a haunted hotel near the beach. The second being my recently revived medieval Brittana fic inspired by this piece of art by @katimanki

At the bottom, below the 'read more' link, is the first chapter of the Brittana fic. It's like 5k words so enjoy! (@unholy-fabray you seemed interested so I'm posting this for u <3)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Premise: Addie and Dolly are riding horseback on the beach. This is the first time they are being honest to eachother about what they are dealing with (Addie being mentally unwell, and Dolly caring deeply for her)

Addie shared a look of deep earnest. A heaviness settled upon hers shoulders. The weight of which her companion shared, for she halted her steed, letting the silence beg for Addie to answer the unspoken question.

“I want to be emaciated.” She said at last. “To feel the same kind of instinctual hunger the gulls feel as a need to drive them up into the sky. That way, and that way alone, could I explain why I feel the way I feel.”

A breath of silence fell between them. The gulls sailed low today, feeding on what tiny creatures hid beneath the surface of the sand. Dolly watched the birds with a naïve kind of curiosity as they spread their wings to glide up each time a wave got to shore with the intent to wipe away all that was before – the rhythm of which never seemed to tire.

“Well then, it must be so.” She spoke. Her face contorted in a stern frown. “But only long enough for you to explain it to me. Then, afterwards, when you sink away in the despair you cried out, let me raise your chin and fill you with love. Let me fill you till it comes out of your nose, and I will wipe away the snot, and hold you, and tell you all can be well. If only you let yourself feel it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AAAAAND THE GLEE FIC:

Long Live: chapter one

Throughout the evening the regular folk enters the taverns until a lively buzz of songs sung by drunk rumbles through the streets. Every so often, when a drunkard is kicked out for becoming too rowdy, a passerby would be able to distinctly make out the lyrics of the drinking song as the words roll of tens of stumbling tongues. Where each tavern poured their own ale, so were the songs and festive hymns hand crafted and specific to the place.

The Vulgar Elderberry, known by locals as the most disorderly and unrestrained pub of the city, where middle-aged men go to pick fights and prostitutes make a humble fortune, is as busy as usual. At every hour of the day there is a group of drunk men, but as soon as the sun goes down the benches and stools fill till the early morning sun peeks over the horizon.

Santana, who might as well be wearing Hans Christian Andersen’s red dancing shoes, is having a blast. With only a bat of her eyes a new drink finds its way to her hand. Men are at her feet with every sway of her hips or twirl of the skirt. And they are at her feet in the literal sense since she is up on her third table of the night. Drunkards are watching her from below, tongues nearly rolling out of their mouth and on the sticky surface of the table which has seen the spillage of many a beer.

On the table next to her is a blonde girl she has seen a couple times before. She does not know her name but somehow they always end up at the same tavern and decide to entertain the guests together. Though it is clear the girl does this on a regular basis, dancing into the early hours of the day, Santana thinks she is decently able to keep up in her drunken haze.

The regular bard is strumming away on a lyre, his beautiful song drowned out by the intoxicated attempts of the patrons singing along. Santana has reached the point where the loud chants do not sound loud anymore and the world is engulfed in a blanket of bliss. Yes, this means she sometimes misses a beat or nearly hits one of the guys who is sitting at her table in the face when she kicks her leg up, but hey, she is at the Elderberry. Any visitor is bound to come home with multiple bruises.

At a dark corner of the bar she sees someone dressed in a dark cloak and a blue tunic. The guest has had two mugs of beer at most and has been looking at her intensely all night. Santana, being a glutton for attention and praise, dances harder for every guy staring at her but tonight she has been dancing for this visitor and this visitor alone. Sharp eyes ogle her from under the hood, face inexpressive no matter how suggestive her dancing gets.

If anyone is sober enough to pay attention to the relatively tall visitor in blue, they would notice how out of place the person is. Not only does the person look too old to still be dressed as a squire, the light blue fabric of the tunic is too expensive for any commoner to wear to a pub like this. A night without a fight is rare, and though people like to show off their riches and power in any social setting, the average response to vanity in the Vulgar Elderberry is a punch to the throat. To wear a light blue dyed linen tunic is asking for trouble.

Santana’s eye fucking gets interrupted when she feels a slosh of beer hit her feet. Still dancing, she looks down at the two guys who just toasted too zealous for the state of their motor control. Their spilled toast is all over the table. She shouts a string of curse words at them and not so subtly stomps in the pool of beer, trying to splash them back.

Too drunk or turned on – or both – to care, the men wipe the drops of beer from their face and out of their beards. Two pairs of lust filled eyes look at her, not registering the thundercloud that is forming above Santana’s head. The bald one barks at her like a dog, which encourages another fellow at her table to howl at her. All night, men have whistled and jeered at her but now most guests are unable to remember how much they had to drink. The last bit of Santana’s rationale takes over. Too much exhilaration will lead to men grabbing her for a dance and trying to suck her tongue out of her mouth, which is the last thing she wants.

Helplessly, she looks over at her blonde friend as she twirls, which may not be the best thing to do as she is certain she would trip if asked to walk in a straight line. Still, Santana never said her rationale was logical or the most efficient. After a couple twirls, she finally meets the eyes of her friend who frowns at her, asking what is wrong. Santana nods to her feet where one of the men is trying to grab at her dress to smell it. The girl nods, having understood the cry for help, then looks at her own crowd of drunk men and smiles teasingly.

“Me and my friend here are kind of getting bored.” The girl shouts. Santana is barely able to make out what is trying to say despite their close proximity. The men at her feet perk up, ready to serve this nymph anything as long as it gets her to keep dancing for them.

One guy jumps up on the bench and props one of his feet on the table. He extends an arm and reaches out for the girl. She places her hand in his outstretched hand. He grabs it tenderly and kisses it. Despite the softness of the kiss, which feels out of place seeing the tavern they are in, it is the lewdest thing Santana has seen all evening. She gawks at the sight. There might as well have been two people going at it doggy style on the table next to her.

“Two ale for these lovely broads who have been entertaining us all evening.” The guy screams at the bar.

“It’s on the house!” the bartender yells back as he puts two large mugs on the dark oak surface of the bar. An ocean of hands reaches out to bring the mugs to their destination.

A hand grabs Santana’s lower arm. Ready to fight off a man who cannot keep his hands to himself, Santana spins around to face her assailant, fist in the air ready to punch a bloody nose. To her surprise, it is the girl. She is leaning dangerously far forward and beckons for Santana to join her on her table. Assisted by a steady tug, she jumps over to the table. Delighted when her shoes do not stick to the table top, a luxury her old table did not have.

The girl does not let go of her. Repositioning her hand instead and intertwines their fingers together, her other hand finds Santana’s waist. The blonde turns her head and screams something at the bard. Santana is too drunk to hear it, overwhelmed by the sudden close proximity and the intense brown eyes the girl has.

“Dance with me.” She says. And Santana does.

Never before has she danced a peasant partner dance. After a minute of stepping on toes and legs tangling in skirts, she understands the rhythm of the dance. She smiles brightly at her partner when she figures it out. The girl grins back, all shiny teeth and pink lips.

Beneath her, the men’s clapping slowly increases. Santana dances like it is the only thing she has ever done in her life. Her body moves on its own, keeping up with the pace that grows faster by the second.

They hop and twirl and shimmy. Without looking away from the girl, Santana knows her whirling her red dress and the orange dress of her partner creates for an impressive sight. Two flames growing brighter and brighter in an endless waltz until they burn up together.

They dance on and on. The muscles in her legs are screaming at her to stop, but Santana cannot help it. If this is where she dies, dancing on a table in a disgustingly dirty tavern, so be it. May the heavens find her exhausted soul and realise that for once she enjoyed what she was doing with every fibre of her being.

One of the gods must have heard her death wish, as in the next second one of Santana’s feet slips off the table and she nearly tumbles into the lap of a sweaty, overweight guy. The only thing keeping her on her podium is the blonde girl who instantly drags her back on her feet.

The delirium of her aching body is taking over, or perhaps she is a lot more drunk than she thought she was. An all-consuming laughter bubbles up from her stomach and leaves her body. She looks like a maniac, but she cannot find the energy to care. There is no one here able to scold her for her unruly behaviour. The chest pressed against hers starts moving in shocks. The girl, too, is laughing hysterically.

She needs a full minute to get her laughter under control. Suddenly, as the last hiccups of her giggle die down, she realises she is still clinging to the girl who is sweaty and hot under her grip. A droplet of sweat rolls down the girl’s neck and pools behind her collarbone. Aware of the heaving chest pressed against hers, and the inappropriate intimacy Santana lets go. Albeit hesitantly.

The girl smiles at her, bright eyed, then turns to the men at their feet. “Where are those beers? I feel hot!” She knows exactly how to play a crowd.

“Yes you are!” A guy screams from a couple tables over.

A large mug filled to the brim is pressed in Santana’s hand by the girl. Her head is spinning. If she drinks this and keeps on dancing, she will sleep in the gutter tonight. Having sweat off half of her body weight, Santana takes a big gulp of her beer. She cringes when the lukewarm liquid fills her mouth, having expected the beer to be cold.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” A guy with a sophisticated moustache chants. He must be a notary of some sorts during the day.

The blonde nudges Santana with her hip and lifts her mug suggestively. Not really caring much for her future self, Santana lifts her own mug with a devilish grin. They toast clumsily, spilling a fair amount as the mugs hit and start chugging.

From across the room, Santana makes eye contact with the peculiar visitor as she chugs her beer. Wanton from dancing, Santana decides to do something she has never done before. With her free hand, she undoes two buttons of her dress, showing off her cleavage. Nearly finished with her beer, she pulls the mug away from her mouth ‘accidentally’ spilling the remainder which drips down her chin and disappears between her breasts.

The cheers of the crowd beneath her leave her cold. Still, Santana bites away her smugness. She caught the visitor biting her lip and fumbling with the belt, hands restless from seeing Santana act all licentious. The victorious smile on her face is hard to supress so she turns to her still nameless friend and focuses her attention on her.

Her heart is running in circles behind her ribcage and kicking up a storm. A heat is growing from deep within and burns her up from the inside. It is dizzying. Santana feels like she can puke at any moment.

The girl says something.

“What?” Santana asks confused.

“It’s Quinn.” The girl repeats. Santana blinks. She does not remember asking the girl for her name, but she must have. Whilst she struggled to keep the content in her stomach inside, her body must have taken over and made small talk. Like when her mind goes away to that special place where she can run away on the back of a horse and ride into the sunset, while her body is talking about the current affairs of the kingdom with some stuck up duke.

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” Quinn asks. Her eyes warm with worry. Santana wishes she can take her home. Quinn seems like a person you can be truly honest with, who would not judge you for the demons in your head.

Santana shakes her thoughts away. She forces herself to take a couple deep breaths. “Yeah, I’m good. The dancing wore me out.” She says. “I’m San- Rosario. Rosario San Cruz I think we’ve met before.”

“Quinn Fabray.” Quinn grabs her hand and spins her around. The soft fabric of Santana’s red dress undulates in graceful waves as she twirls. “We have. I remember because I never had a dance partner that’s able to keep up with me the way you do.”

“Why thank you.” Santana says demure, instinctively bowing elegantly as she takes the compliment. As Santana comes back up she bites her tongue to keep from smiling too hard. Though it’s too late. This Quinn girl has already brought out her cheek dimples. Santana hates them. She is usually pretty good at showing off a certain emotion when really she is feeling something else, but when her cheek dimples show, everyone can see she is truly happy in and out. Information which she prefers not to give away.

Quinn takes Santana’s mug with one hand and holds her other hand up invitingly. “May I have another dance with you, Rosario?” She says with an accent mocking the highbrow and royals.

“But of course you may.” Santana grabs the hand, responding in the same accent.

Quinn regards her, then pecks a kiss to each of the mugs and throws them behind her without looking, like a bride throwing her bouquet. Men dive after the mugs, deeming them worth more than jewellery. Not even a peregrine falcon diving after its prey is as fast.

The bard is playing a joyful song, Quinn sings along softly as she leads Santana. Santana cannot fully commit to the dance however, she keeps one eye on the men fighting over the mug - not trusting it will simply blow over. The tension she had tried escaping by going here has returned. The tiny demon running around in her skull is pulling on all the strings, creating doom scenarios of what could happen. Ranging from a simple barfight to a dragon ripping the roof of the tavern and burning them all alive.

“Stop thinking.” Quinn points out sharply. “This is the third time you’ve stepped on my foot and your eyes keep darting to the side. I know for a fact you’re not distracted by a handsome knight.”

Santana frowns at what Quinn might be implying. “What? I totally like knights.”

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” Quinn lets go of her for a second to do her own little freestyle whilst she stares at the guy whose hand she kissed earlier. “But I don’t see them here. Just enjoy the moment. Worries are for tomorrow.”

Quinn’s hands find her body again and she leads them into a high tempo waltz. Santana gets twirled around again, seemingly Quinn’s favourite move, and lets her thoughts fly away from her as she spins around.

In anticipation of the dip Quinn leads her into she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Arms stretched out dramatically, she fully trusts the hands around her waist to not drop her. Her long, dark hair nearly brushes the table top. Her flair for the dramatics is appreciated as whistles and shouts fill the air, shortly drowning out the music.

Then she is pulled back up, rougher than she expected. A yelp escapes her mouth as she crashes into Quinn. Instinctively, her feet position themselves so she is ready to waltz away but the lead does not come. Quinn is looking at something behind her then hisses in her ear. “Duck.”

Before Santana can ask what is going on, firm hands grab her shoulders and she is pushed downwards. With a thud she falls on her ass on the table top. Tears jump in her eyes at the sharp pain that shoots up her spine. Her skin will be bruised for a week. One foot is in the lap of a passed out drunk guy. Carefully, she tries to remove her foot and crawl of the table. A heavy body crashes into her and nimbly slides off the table.

“There is no time to be nice.” Quinn chides. Rudely, she drags Santana to her feet and checks her over. By then, Santana realises the side of the table they are on is empty, aside for the passed out guy. The gears in her head are turning as she looks around. People are chanting, not the regular songs, but cheering and howling. Instead of the low notes of a mostly male choir, deep aggravated grunts fill the air.

The chanting, together with the groups forming between the tables click in Santana’s head. There are fights happening. Multiple.

“I knew the mugs were going to cause trouble.” Santana says to no one in particular as she looks at the fight at the opposite side of the table. A shoe flies through the air and hits a guy who had previously nursed his beer unbothered. Agitated from the beer that spilled all over his tunic he grabs the shoe and throws it back, hitting a different bystander in the face. The bystander makes a face that can only be described as an toad blown up with anger, and stalks towards the guy with heavy steps, nearly stumbling over a nearby bench.

“Good for you genius. We have to go.” Quinn snipes. Her hand locks around Santana’s forearm. With difficulty, Santana keeps up with the swift pace with which Quinn moves through the maze of tables and drunk, fighting barbarians. The closer they get to the exit, the rowdier things become.

The tavern has been filled to the brim the whole evening. Multiple fights are breaking out and escalating. In the chaos of fallen benches, mugs flying through the air and people being pushed over or stumbling away in a drunken stupor, it is hard for two women to fight their way through the crowd. Quinn pushes herself in the slowly moving stream of exiting people, attempting to pull Santana with her.

“Wait!” Santana shouts at Quinn. “I’m missing someone.”

“Forget it.” Quinn shouts back over her shoulder. “We need to leave now or a guy unruly from fighting thinks he needs a victory prize.”

Santana looks back but her vision gets blocked by two tall guys behind her, seemingly brothers. All around her are sweaty bodies. The air smells of barf and wet, dirty clothes. Her arms are pressed to her body. If people are not careful she will be crushed like grain in a mill. The only thing that is keeping her from fully panicking is the death grip Quinn has on her.

All of a sudden the pushing from behind stops, but before she can look behind her to see what happened, a strong arm wraps around her waist. She is yanked out of Quinn’s grip and dragged backwards. She screams in surprise, then a second animalistic scream leaves her throat fuelled by pure anxiety.

Quinn was right. A burly guy who has had too much to drink thinks he owns the world and anyone in it. In order to truly feel like the king he is, he needs his little princess to entertain him. And he has decided Santana will be that princess.

Her whole body stiffens. She is a drawn bow ready to let go. This is yet another guy who thinks she is only good for one thing. His audacity is as big as a dragon and his regard for the thoughts and feelings of others is as true as the existence of gnomes – just a fable. He is a dirty pig, just like the rest of the scum that fills this tavern each night. In a blind fit of rage, she turns around and punches the guy square in the face. Then adds another punch at the nose, for good measure.

Instantaneously, the person lets go of her and grabs at their face. Then throws the hood they are wearing off their face. Two angry and confused blue eyes stare back at her.

“Santana, what the hell?”

“Oh my god Britt I’m so sorry.” Shocked, Santana clasps two hands over her mouth.

Brittany, her self-acclaimed bodyguard and partner in crime, is standing in front of her. Blood seeps from her nose and between her fingers down her chin, dripping on her sky blue tunic. It will suck to wash the blood out later.

“What did I tell you? If something happens. You find me and we take the back exit.” Brittany’s tone is razor sharp despite her the slightly nasal tone from pinching her nose. It cuts through Santana’s heartstrings. Never before has her friend ever been this angry with her, and Santana has gotten entangled in big messes.

Santana nods quietly. Even her mother’s tyrannical scolding has never hurt as much as this. She grabs Brittany’s clean, outstretched hand and lets herself be lead outside. Whether Brittany has threatened the bartender or has found a way to pull some strings Santana does not know. Regardless, they exit through a hatch in the basement through which the beer barrels are transported.

The side street is quiet. There is a light drizzle but Santana refuses to wear the cloak Brittany offers her. She tells herself it is because Brittany will need it later on, as she will face the elements face first as they ride back home on their horse, not because she feels ashamed therefore refusing any comfort.

Brittany holds her close as they walk to the stable. The bleeding has stopped, but she sports a dark red moustache on her upper lip. More smears of blood cover her chin, cheeks and hand. Santana’s ears are buzzing and the ground sways like the sea. She hopes she will not have to puke later the evening, or worse, wake up in the middle of the night and having to find a tub to puke in. Besides her obvious drunk ailment, she is aware of her exhaustion. She just wants to cling to Brittany as she rides, maybe cry a little, and lay in bed.

They do not share a single word until they reach the stable. By that time, her intensely beating heart as calmed down, and the rush and fear from the last few moments in the tavern feel like a dream. In spite of that, Santana still knows it really happened. With every step she takes, she is reminded through a growing bruise on her ass. She sighs as Brittany pulls her pockets inside out for a pair of keys.

“I’m sorry.” Punching Brittany square in the face is not something she ever thought she would do. The shame and hurt inside her do not subside. On the contrary, they keep growing. Santana knows she did something very, very wrong.

Brittany sticks the key in the lock and pushes open the heavy stable door. “I should be sorry. For stealing these keys of the stableboy. He probably got into a lot of trouble for losing these.” Brittany jingles the keys. She grabs a burning oil lamp that hangs on a nearby hook and turns it up, leading them to Fleetwood.

The gelding is chewing his hay loudly. Being the glutton he is, he attempts to take a couple last bites as Brittany pulls him from the stable. Santana watches with her arms crossed as Brittany tightens the girth. She is swaying lightly on her feet, too intoxicated to stand still. They left Fleetwood in his tack with the knowledge they would be back within a couple hours and wanting to leave as soon as possible - maybe even fleeing from a scene.

“After you, my lady.” Brittany bows elegantly as she lets Santana get on first.

A bit unstable, Santana climbs on the back of the tall, grey dappled horse. She has climbed on many a steed with a dress, but alcohol is a consistent humbler and makes even the greats question their skill if they consume enough. Once she sits secure with both her legs on one side Brittany leads the horse outside by the reins and locks the stable again. She then pushes the keys through a gap between two planks of the door.

It is as if they were never there.

Santana is staring at the stars when she feels the saddle underneath her shake. Brittany climbs on behind her. She watches as Brittany makes her red dress disappear by pulling the dark cloak over her legs, protecting her from the cold of the night. A warm hand splays over her stomach, pressing her into the squire’s body. Unconsciously, Santana chooses to believe Brittany wants to feel her close, and that it’s not an act to keep her from slipping off the horse’s back.

With the slightest pressure of Brittany’s feet, Fleetwood takes off in the direction of the castle. His heavy hooves echo through the narrow city streets, a nuisance to anyone who is not vast asleep. Santana cannot muster up enough energy to care, both her body and mind exhausted from drinking and dancing.

“I danced the whole night.” Santana mumbles as soon as they reach the edge of the city. Fleetwood steps sound muffled on the dirt. The words fall off her tongue with difficulty, the muscle too ungainly to pronounce words properly.

Brittany nudges her cheek with her nose. She hums. “That you did.”

“And, I made a friend.”

“You always make friends. You’re very charming.”

“Yeah but, she’s a real friend.” Santana turns to face Brittany, since she is sitting sideways on the horse she does not have to turn much. Nonetheless, the hand around her waist clings on tighter, making sure she does not fall off. “Like… We talked. We had a connection.”

“Sounds amazing.” Brittany deadpans, her focus on the dark trail ahead as she encourages Fleetwood to counter.

“You don’t have to hold on so tight.” The grip of the hand on her hip is bordering on painful. “I’m drunk. Not dumb. I can sit on a horse.” The grip slackens, albeit a little bit.

By the time they reach the castle, Santana is sure she is not imagining the tension between her and her best friend. Normally, Brittany would guide Fleetwood in an easy canter once they leave town until they reach the open field. From there, they would watch the lights on the castle walls grow bigger, Fleetwood walking at his own pace.

Brittany would reminisce about funny figures she saw at the bar or how she won the rigged game of dice. Santana would giggle, perhaps even laugh vehemently in that way only Brittany can make her laugh. She would ask how she did it, how does one cheat the cheater. Brittany would stay silent, and smile a smug smile that makes Santana melt like cream on a warm cake. In those moments, with her head nestled underneath Brittany’s chin as she listens and the light of the stars guiding them home, Santana feels normal.

Any sane person would argue it is extremely dangerous, two girls on a horse in the middle of an open field at night. Raiders or anyone who is uncivilised enough to attack random people could easily sneak up on them and overpower them. Perhaps it is exactly that, the fear of being raided, something any peasant on a trip fears, is what makes her feel normal. Between the castle walls, there is always one pair of eyes on her at least. Where the most vile thing that can happen is someone dropping her new gown on the floor. There, the things she fears most being Miss Corcoran’s lectures about taxes or her father finding out about her nightly escapades, which don’t seem so bad when compared to being held at knifepoint in the dark.

Besides the couple sentences they spoke at the beginning of the ride, they have not talked at all. Brittany forced Fleetwood to canter home without taking a rest, making no effort to enjoy the nighttime through laughs.

Santana feels like an intruder as she watches Brittany remove the tack and makes Fleetwood comfortable for the night. She lingers in the walkway between the stables and pretends to be busy with one of Fleetwood’s neighbours. When the horse retreats her head and there is nothing around Santana can distract herself with. She mumbles an apology.

“What?” Brittany sticks her head out of the stable she is in.

“I’m sorry.” Santana repeats, supressing her usual jeering. She never repeats an apology. She barely even apologises for things in the first place. So, if Brittany can simply accept her apology that angry feeling in the pit of her stomach will go away and they can both sleep soundly.

For a moment they just stare at each other. Brittany’s face is blank, but Santana knows she is thinking. She can tell by the way Brittany keeps tapping the handle of the bucket she is holding with her index finger. She is bothered.  

Brittany sighs deeply, closing her eyes for a moment. “It’s okay. It just… hurts.” She flashes a forced smile.

They confronted the problem, talked about it, and Santana apologised. Perhaps not in that order, but it doesn’t matter. Things are a-okay again, starting now. There is totally no reason for tension anymore, Santana decides.

“Yeah.” Santana lets out a shaky breath. “Let me at least clean you up.”

As response she gets a smirk that blooms into a toothy grin. And now Santana knows things truly are okay again.

Quietly Brittany shuts the door that leads to the kitchen. Santana lights up a discarded oil lamp and searches for some rags in drawers. Which, despite the light of the lamp, is hindered by darkness. She grabs the empty air next to a handle on multiple occasions. Once she finds a clean rag, she dips the cloth in a vat of water that stands off to the side and walks back over to Brittany who perched herself on the table. Next to Brittany is a tray covered by clean cloths, the surface of which billowed by the pastries underneath.

“Do you really think they’ll miss one or two?”

“Mercedes worked really hard on them. They’re for the feast tomorrow.” Santana puts the oil lamp on the table and brings up the damp cloth to brush of the dried blood. “Or tonight, I guess.”

“Another one of those stupid dinner parties? Didn’t you have one a couple days ago?” Brittany scrunches her face. The cold cloth uncomfortable against her skin.

“I did.” Santana responds factually. “My parents are inviting all the princes from neighbouring kingdoms and hope I like one. That way no more stupid knights die from Sapphian. Apparently she already has 110 documented deaths since she first appeared, not counting the peasants she kills when she raids the nearby towns. Half of those deaths are our own knights.”

“Never come between a dragon and her treasure.” Brittany says solemnly, then grins.

“You’re so weird.” Santana scoffs, feigning annoyance.

Brittany wraps her legs around Santana’s waist and pulls her close, locking her feet together at the ankles. “You love it.” She teases.

Santana hums in agreement. She ignores whatever Brittany is doing with her hair. She assumes the squire is braiding the strand of hair, judging by the repetitive tugging on the left side of her forehead. When she deems Brittany clean, she grabs a dry part of the rag and wipes off the damp skin.

Brittany pulls a face of disgust and lifts her head backwards, away from the dusty cloth, and wipes her lips with the back of her hand. “It’s good. You know I hate that.”

“You prefer staying wet?”

Instantly, she regrets her word choice. Brittany bursts out laughing. Santana punches her lightly in the stomach, directly in a patch of dried blood. She wipes her knuckles clean, an annoyed frown on her face.

“The gods punish immediately.” Brittany smirks. She sits back, leaning on her elbows. She has this smug twinkle in her eyes that messes with Santana’s head. She hates it, and Brittany is very much aware of that. The legs around her hips tense up, squeezing slightly in a teasing manner.

Brittany stares at her for a while. The light of the lamp reflects in the corner of her eyes and highlights a few loose strands of hair. This observation jogs Santana’s memory. She looks down to see a tiny, messily braided tuft of hair. She picks it up to get a closer look.

“You know Tina is going to brush it out in the morning, right?”

Brittany shrugs. “’s our little secret.”

For a few seconds Santana simply stares at her. “I am way too drunk for riddles right now.”

“I meant,” Brittany sits up and reaches over towards the tray of pastries and grabs two, “that only we know who ate these.” She bites into her enthusiastically, spilling crumbs all over the table and her lap. She presses the other one to Santana’s lips, waiting for her to bite it.

Santana gives her one of her ‘are you serious’ stares but bites when Brittany keeps pressing. She moans obscenely when the flavours of the icing and the berry filling blend in her mouth. She stuffs the rest of the pastry in her mouth.

“These are so good.”

“Told you we should try them.”

Santana rolls her eyes. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she plants them on Brittany’s warm thighs. “You always want a bite of everything when there is food available. You’re always hungry.”

“Yeah, but these are Mercedes’ pastries, so they make me like, extra hungry.” Brittany waggles her eyebrows.

“Weirdo.” Santana says through a yawn. She wants to touch the tip of Brittany’s nose lovingly but instead presses her finger into the cheek beside it. She frowns, annoyed with her own failure to perform a simple task. Brittany watches her for a moment, then jerks into action.

“Let’s get you to bed, my lady.” She says solemnly. Her feet untangle and drop to the side, finally freeing Santana from her leg trap.

As they sneak to Santana’s room, Santana anticipates getting her cuddle on; The only thing that will help her survive the tedious dinner tomorrow.