#the visions of them i get plagued with when i listen to that song

[sylviaplathenthusiast]

505 by arctic monkeys is so dorlene coded

[spiteful--art]

SAGAU || Shenanigans

Synopsis: The people of Teyvat ponder your intentions A/N: Just a quick thing I had in mind after goofing off in the game xP BTW I haven't reached Fontaine so expect OOC

The new god that appeared overnight is a strange one, to say the least. Often times silent, the vessels don't hear any kind of commentary aside from mumbled words and noises. But there was a rare moment when you spoke, and what shocked them the most is that you seemed to be joined by a number of other gods.

You were unofficially named the Scholar, or the Guide by the majority of Teyvat's citizens, dubbed so by the mere fact you were powering up vision holders for no discernible reason aside from taking them on a journey with the Traveler. So perhaps the gods that were with you were similar?

"...Okay I'm listening."

"Right- Xingqiu Q, Bennet Q, Yelan E, and then go ham with the Rizzler."

Neuvillette can't help but quirk an eyebrow at the last name, while Furina cocks her head.

"The... Rizzler? Is that really what they are calling Sir Wriothesley?" Furina said aloud.

"I've seen them use that name several times when the Scholar was visited by another- It appears they might be rather lazy in spelling out his name."

"Still- It is such an odd nickname-"

"Okay okay got it-" The voice cuts in. "Just use the Qs and Yelan's E, then we just kill everyone with the Rizzler."

"Exactly. Since you have no idea how Dendro works that's the best we can do for now."

"Arright boss."

"Boss..." Neuvillette places a hand to his chin. "Could there be a chain of command?" Surely there must be, since you appear to be holding this unknown god's advice highly. But that isn't what concerns Neuvillette right now.

Killing everyone with Wriothesley- Surely they cannot be doing such injustice? It's hard to tell with gods...

"Okay- NO- YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG!"

"Shut up, I have no idea what these things do!"

"Rizzler E! RIZZLER E! SPAM YOUR ULTIMATES!"

The screams of the gods ring throughout the air, and Neuvillette tenses up. Furina shrinks into her seat. "The other god seems to be quite aggressive with the Scholar..."

Eventually, the screams turn into congratulations. Soon after, Wriothesley enters and collapses on the lounge chair.

"Ah, Wriothesley! How was it with the Scholar?" Furina asks, pouring the Duke a cup of tea. Wriothelesy straightens up and clears his throat.

"It was... Chaotic, to say the least. Who knew I would be dealing with robots and... Walking mushrooms today."

"Walking mushrooms?" Furina raises a brow.

"It's- I'm not entirely sure how to explain it, lady Furina." Wriothesley sighs. "But I did hear the Scholar talking with the other god- Apparently the other one seems to be more versed in controlling vessels."

"I see..." Neuvillette narrows his eyes. "So the hypothesis of the Scholar being a young god are not unfounded."

"Seems like it-"

"I still have to question your title of 'the Rizzler,'" Furina grins. "What exactly have you done in order to earn such a name?"

"I-" Wriothesley throws his hands up in exasperation. "I have no clue."

Furina laughs, as Neuvillette continues to think.

Not malicious, but inexperienced, and needing guidance from other gods... Perhaps they may be the key to solving much of the problems plaguing Teyvat.

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ Page Break! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

"LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR- LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR-"

The Guide screamed alongside the strange music as Aether battled with the slimes at the Dawn Winery. Often times, the Guide would often be accompanied with music, unknowingly forcing Teyvat to listen to the strange yet wonderful sounds.

Today, it seemed the Guide was taking out a lot of aggression on monsters, Aether's swings and hits somehow becoming stronger than usual.

And the music wasn't consistent as well- Sometimes they would get a soulful ballad, strange electronic noises woven together to make songs, and songs where the Guide sang along.

"Deep in the dark of the woods where secrets sleep, We serve he who waits beneath. Till the soul, devotion reap. For the lamb who herds the sheep."

The Guide sang as Aether resonated with the statue of the Geo Archon, shivering at the implication of the lyrics. Were you a follower of some other more powerful god? It somewhat terrified him to think about gods worshiping other gods-

"Arms raised high in sacrifice. Pull down wool over our eyes~"

He just hopes you continue to be a helpful force- He doesn't want to think about you using your powers for evil. He still needed to find his sister- And find out just what is happening in this world.

For now, Aether listens to you sing, and prays for your continued assistance.

[fairsexynasty]

∞ ₒ 🏆˚ ° 🏈 WHO’S FREER THAN ME?

+*:🐅:* joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: talk, talk, talk. it’s like men were conditioned to do only that. will they ever listen to you? questions plague your mind during a night out with joe. except, you’re not physically with him, quite unfortunately so.

warnings: SMUT. oral (fem receiving), squirting, fingering (fem receiving), daddy kink, dom/sub, subspace, mentions of spanking, dacryphilia mention, jealous!joe, asshat men

a/n: and she’s finally here! and she’s looking gorg <3

You figured that it was natural to get yourself caught up in tricky situations. The night before, you were adamant on the fact that parties were insipid and required an amount of fucks you personally couldn’t give. But damn it, Joe. It wasn’t on purpose, but his eyes practically begged you to accompany him to the stupid thing, and the last thing you wanted was Joe standing against a wall, drink in hand, disappointed you hadn’t tagged along. So after a period of begging (and kissing,) you reluctantly agreed to go to the party.

And it was terrible.

Never once in your life did you have to interact with such vapid, arrogant adults who had pools of beer and other mystery alcohols spilling down their shirts. It smelled like a gym and a bar at the same exact time, and the smell was so unrelenting, you excused yourself and headed upstairs.

Passing by multiple guys who had always been assholes to you out of attraction, made it to a secluded hallway, dim with dying overhead floral lights. At some point, Joe was pulled away by guys who animatedly conversed with him in what was probably their first-ever conversation with your boyfriend.

Footsteps padded along the stairs and you prayed it would be your boyfriend, for he at least had some decency to not stomp on some rando’s carpet. Unfortunately, you were met with— well, you didn’t know his name.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here!” He greeted you. The look you gave made him say his name, but frustratingly enough, you hadn’t heard him. You stared up at him through the rim of your cup, a white line appearing in your vision and cutting off his torso.

“I, uh, I don’t find myself at parties a lot. Out of my own volition.” Perhaps, if you were sardonic enough, he would leave you the fuck alone and you’d be able to hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Nothing like sitting atop a polished granite slab, feeling the surface vibrate in pulses beneath you.

‘What’s-his-face’ gives a stupid chortle. He’s finding you amusing, which is literally the opposite of what you want from him. “Oh, so you’re a cool girl, aren’t you?”

No. No, no, no, not this gimmick.

Rule one of interacting with men you don’t like, is never to make them think you’re a cool girl, which is another word for “My own personal manic pixie dream girl.” Once they think that, you’re free game, no matter how hard you try to rope yourself back in. And now, ‘What’s-his-face’ has pulled the buoy cord out of the water, leaving you stranded with him for god knows how long.

He asks you about your favorite SNL sketches, how many Blur songs you can name, and whether or not you caught the Sunday football game. Your stomach shifts inside your body, his douchebag aura making you feel queasy, and now you’re yearning for your boyfriend who is most likely surrounded by other douchebags like the one in front of you. You should have handcuffed yourself to Joe. Should have tackled him down the stairs and knocked him out before he stepped foot outside your house. Maybe, you should have driven all the way to get ice cream instead and fuck him after.

But you didn’t, and now you have to pay the price.

“It’s really nice that you’re listening, typically girls start talking about other stuff when I’m talking, it’s really kind of you.” Ugh. No fucking way. Then, he placed a fucking hand on your arm. “Wanna get out of here?”

Before you can slap him in the face, Joe turns him around by his shoulder. “No, but I think you should, right buddy? I mean, look at her. She’s obviously not interested, and would rather shoot herself than talk to you.” You let out a laugh because there’s no one who understands you more than Joe does. “Don’t you?”

It strikes you as strange, it even incenses you. What the hell do you mean by that, Joe? You grab his hand and start pulling him with you, not bothering to bid goodbye to the other guy.

“I want to leave,” you start as the two of you trudge down the stairs. “Got it?”

Joe rolls his eyes but acquiesces to your request. He grabs his keys from his pocket and the two of you are out the door.

The car ride back to your apartment is silent. Dead silent. Once you arrive home, you make a dash for the door, choosing not to wait for Joe.

“Babe,” he calls out. He catches up and closes the door behind him. His hand runs over his face. “The hell was that?”

“You know I don’t like parties, I told you I didn’t want to go.”

“Yeah, initially, but then you eventually agreed, right?”

You groan in frustration. “I lied, Joe.”

“So why are you mad at me because you lied? If you wanted to leave, you could have told me, but you let that douche chat you up instead.” He walks toward you and holds your chin with his pointer and thumb.

“You know I didn’t like him,” you say in earnest and avoiding eye contact.

“Really? Because I can’t read your mind, baby. Tell me what you need.” The air grows thick with tension. Suddenly you feel hot, overcome with a warmth fueled by Joe radiating jealousy. You also feel a bit of pompousness in the mix, knowing Joe is feeding off of the fact you’re caught in a now precarious situation. His eyes seem as if they’re smirking at your own, his lids curving at the ends, irises as blue as sapphire. He’s teasing you, making you wait for him to quit the unrelenting gaze that was so stimulating.

You decide to take his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your pouted lips around the digit. Your throat began to meet with his thumb almost immediately and you moaned, wondering how his fingers would feel in you.

Head moving back and letting Joe’s thumb fall from your mouth, a string of saliva trailed to your lips, you immediately go dumb for him. “Need you to fuck me, daddy.” Glossy eyes bat three times at him. “Please?”

It’s almost shameful to you that you put yourself in this position every single time. It’s almost shameful how you go dumb as soon as your arousal gets sexual, as if all you’ve built yourself up to be washes away in the waves of fuck me now. But it does fill you with pride in the end, because you hold the key to Joe’s satisfaction, and you’re the only person who does him as well as you do.

“That’s my girl,” a low coo of pleasantry. He scoops you up in his arms and you let out a squeal of surprise. Joe walks to your bedroom, slipping your shoes off and dropping them on the floor along the way. He gently lays you on top of the sheets, holding your head as he leans in to kiss you.

Moaning into the kiss, your hands take the rein in his hair, fingers already carding through the blond. Joe tugs at your bottom lip, making you drop your jaw just a bit so he can explore inside your mouth.

You find it astonishing. To be concise, Joe’s pretty selfish— but it’s how he takes things for himself that renders you wanton. The way he bites on your skin and soothes it after. How his hands direct your body in any way of his choosing. When he holds your head up as you cum to make sure he can see the stars in your eyes.

Your legs spread immediately as Joe enters the space between them. He takes his time trailing hot kisses down your neck, then down your torso after removing your top and bra. His fingers dance upon your jean-clad thighs, tap-tap-tapping upwards to your button and zipper, then work in a quick fashion to rid you of your bottoms. You’re left in just your panties and they’re soaked with your wetness, turning a shade darker than the original where it covers your core.

Joe’s eyes glimmer with an unsatiable want to ruin you. His fingers trail over your core, and you let out a breathy whimper. God, you’re pathetic. “You got really worked up didn’t you, pretty girl? How long were you waiting for me to come to save you?”

You let out a playful scoff and roll your eyes. “I don’t need to be saved, Joey. I just know you missed me so much.” Pulling him closer by his belt loops, you bite his bottom lip and pull ever-so-slightly. “Don’t tease me, daddy. Makes me upset.”

The soft sound of your purrs full of pure raunch flips a switch in Joe. Instead of wanting to fuck you dumb, slap your ass until the skin was hot to the touch, kiss the tears that never stopped running down your cheeks, the man decided he wanted you to scream for more. More, more, more. God, he could just hear it in his mind. Blessed cries of pleasure, letting his baby take whatever she wanted from him like the princess she was, that’s all he needed now.

He pounced at your neck in an attempt to distract you from what he was about to do�� rip your panties apart in one swift motion, with little to no effort at all. He lowly chuckles against your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine. As he kisses and marks his territory, his hands travel to your core and start truly exploring the wetness that coats you. His two fingers slip inside as easily as ever, and he’s grateful to realize it’s because you’ve decided he’s all you ever wanted.

“That’s my girl. So ready for daddy, aren’t you?” You nod softly and pull him into a deep kiss.

The tightness is a comfort and Joe curves his fingers to pull a moan out of you that bounces off the walls of your room. With every flick of the wrist, he feels your cunt pulse around his fingers, sucking him back in deeper each time.

His mouth leaves your neck and goes straight for your pussy, instantly latching onto your clit and sucking, hard. You let out a scream, as your mind tries to wrap around how it’s possible he makes you feel even better each time. “Fuck, s’good daddy, so good…”

Joe’s tongue parts your folds and joins his fingers in motion. The heat travels all along your body as you drip onto him. He eats you out like a man starved, licking and thrusting his tongue all over, catching every last drop of what you give to him.

The coil in your abdomen tightens and your thighs clench and shake around Joe’s head. Your hands snake down his hair and pull hard, taking rein in the blond. Your back arches over and over as you grind into his mouth, chasing your release.

After you start practically fucking yourself onto his fingers, Joe comes up and takes one good look at you. Your eyes have rolled into the back of your head, your skin sheen with sweat, and your body just looks outright divine.

“Gonna cum for daddy, honey?”

“‘M so close, gonna cum, daddy-“ You cut yourself off with a moan. He knows you’re so incredibly close that you’ve lost the ability to hold onto necessary cognition, so he gives you a couple of slaps to your clit, and soon enough you’re gushing all over his fingers. “Oh, fuck!”

“There you go, good fucking girl,” he groans,  failing to cease rubbing at your clit. He wants all of the mess that you so happily give to him. Once you’ve finished cumming and the aftershock contractions start, he finally controls himself. He dips his head back down to clean you up with his tongue, and you choke out tiny squeals.

Then, he’s done being selfish for the time being. He meets you face to face again. Your eyes lull back and forth from clear vision to a blur of Joe above you. “Come back to me, baby,” he whispers as you slowly regain consciousness. He caresses your cheek, pressing small kisses from your forehead into your hairline.

He smiles when he feels your arms wrap around him, your hold as present as your mind. “Thank you, Joey,” you whisper back. Your hands feel fabric clinging to his back, and you suddenly realize he never even got undressed. “What’s with the clothes?”

Joe smiles down at you. “A very wise woman told me that men need to listen to women in conversation. This is my special way of conversing with you, I guess.”

“Did you make a mess in your pants, Joe?”

“Not answering that.”

[lonelym00n]

The Red Means I Love You

Amber Freeman x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Ghostface is running around and you don't know who to trust. Amber reassures you that things will be okay.

Warnings: Typical canon violence with descriptions of blood. Please read with caution! Follows the events of Scream V. Also, Angst!

A/N: guysss... I did a thing... I'll just let you read and find out.

Title + fic inspired by Madds Buckley's song, The Red Means I Love You

If someone had told you a few days ago that you’d have to watch your close friend take a bullet to the head, you’d have slapped them across the face and added them to Mindy’s ever-growing list of potential future ghostface suspects. 

In retrospect, you suppose you were naive for thinking that you’d make it through Woodsboro High without falling victim to someone deciding to take up the infamous killer’s mantle. You should’ve suspected that it would happen eventually, especially considering that three of your best friends were related to survivors from the years prior. That fact alone painted a bright red target on your back and it was only a matter of time until an eight-inch hunting knife sunk into you because of it.

Did some higher deity sew the stars together to seal the fate of you and your friends? Were you destined to die at the hands of the ghost that haunted the little town you’d lived in all your life? Some part of you thinks that yes, this was meant to happen, because a tiny voice in your head always figured the friend group you’d become a part of was doomed from the day it began to form.

Everyone else in Woodsboro had it easy, their parents were present and the killings that plagued the town only existed for them in the form of the notorious Stab franchise. The same couldn’t be said for your friends.

Put a handful of Woodsboro High’s most traumatized students into one group and what do you get? The perfect cast for the next series of killings. Mindy tells you as much when you and the rest of your friends are clustered together in her living room, trying to identify who among you was responsible for brutally attacking the others left and right. 

As if being friends with people who are related to the survivors wasn’t bad enough, you learn from Tara’s older sister that she is connected to Billy Loomis, the original ghostface himself. More than being connected, Sam’s his daughter. You have half a mind to notify your parents to start picking out your tombstone now.

You barely listen as accusations fly around the room. How could it be possible that you were in the same room as the killer right now, when you’ve known everyone here your whole life? You were having a hard time processing the fact that one of the kids you’d played in the sandbox with in elementary school had grown up to become someone so sinister. 

Distantly, you hear Mindy conclude that Sam must be the killer, that it made the most sense because of who her father was. She storms out of the room and after a beat, you stand up on shaky legs and murmur a goodbye to the remaining occupants of the Meeks-Martin living room. Your head was reeling and you needed to get away or you’d break down and lose your last semblance of sanity. 

If there is a God that exists, they must hate you, because you break down anyways. Just outside the house, you’re hunched over, a hand clutched desperately at your rapidly rising chest. Despite your best efforts, you’re unable to chase away the dread and terror that have nestled in and made a home in your torso. 

Too wrapped up in trying to calm your irregular breathing, you don’t hear the familiar clunk of boots swiftly making their way towards you.

Though your vision is blurred, you’ve spent enough time around Amber to recognize her presence almost instantly. She’s bent over you concernedly, and you think she’s speaking to you but you can’t hear her over the accelerated pounding of your heart that has arisen from the lack of proper oxygen intake. 

Her body firmly encompasses your own and your senses are overtaken with everything Amber. If you were able to breathe, you would’ve sighed at the feeling of security that blanketed over you. 

Amber’s hands grasp yours and she presses your joined hands onto her chest, where her heart steadily thumps beneath. At the feeling of it, you will your own heart to match its rhythm. It takes a while for it to slow down but once it does, you faintly become aware of her sweet voice reminding you to breathe slowly, in and out, in and out. 

She looks relieved when you finally descend back to reality. “There you go, baby. You’re okay. I’m here.”

You throw your arms around her and sob into the embrace, struggling to ignore the burning in your chest. She rubs your back and shushes you quietly. 

“Amber, I can’t do this. I’m scared.”

She presses a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulls you in closer, resting her chin on the top of your head. “We’re gonna be okay.”

You mumble into her chest, “How can you be so sure?”

Practically smothered in her embrace, you remain completely unaware of the ominous look that has blossomed in the dark brown eyes that you love so much. 

“You trust me, don’t you?” 

You nod, albeit a bit hesitantly.

“Good. I’m going to protect you, I won’t let anything happen to us.”

It isn’t lost on you that just as there is with everyone else, there’s a slim possibility that Amber could be the killer. But out of everyone, you know her the best. Ever since she had asked you out, all shy and nervous and very un-Amber Freeman like, the two of you had been inseparable. She weaseled her way into your everyday thoughts and in turn, you became the center of warmth that thawed her previously cold heart. No one could deny that you and Amber balanced each other out perfectly. For the first time in your life, you found someone you could trust enough to fall deeply and irrevocably in love with. If you could trust Amber with such an intimate and fundamental piece of your soul, you could trust that she wouldn’t be silently plotting your death, right?

Wrong.

Just like Liv’s skull cavity, your heart shatters at the abrupt finality of Amber’s bullet. 

Chaos erupts at the spray of Liv’s blood and the crash of her still-warm body hitting the ground. Sam and Richie scatter as Tara knocks Amber’s next shot off course. 

The only thing you can think to do is run, so you do. You clamber up the stairs and dive into the hall closet. You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the pitiful sounds desperately trying to slip past your lips. 

You feel utterly broken, like the piece of your soul that you’d given to Amber was cruelly snatched out of your body and crushed in her murderous grasp. You want nothing more than to scream and wail until you yell yourself hoarse, but you can’t give up your hiding spot. As much as you’re sure that the pain of betrayal outweighs any cut from the blood-stained knife, you don’t want to find out if there’s any truth to the comparison. 

You hear two sets of feet making their way up the stairs, one stomping heavily and the other flailing uselessly. You aren’t one-hundred percent sure, but you think the pained whimpers you’re hearing belong to Tara. Which means Amber was likely the one accompanying her.

At the thought of your girlfriend, you recoil further into the closet. You can feel your whole body shaking in fear. 

After a few more long minutes, you can hear the familiar creak of Amber’s boots on the hardwood floor. She’s calling out your name and you press your hand harder against your mouth to completely silence the sound of your breathing. 

Her search becomes more frantic and the clunking of her boots begins to pick up speed. You reach around blindly in search of anything you can use to fend her off.

Just as you tighten your grip around what you think might be an umbrella, the closet door flies open. You swing with all your might, but Amber moves quicker, grabbing the umbrella and disarming you.

She quirks an eyebrow and chuckles at your failed attempt to hit her. She motions for you to stand.

 “Come on, down to the kitchen we go.”

You make no move to get up, paralyzed at the sight of her donning the ghostface robes. 

She groans, “I can’t have you ruining the plan. Let’s go.”

Her commanding tone does nothing to move you. You’re rooted to the spot in fear, wondering what fate is waiting for you down in the kitchen. 

Amber growls and you flinch backwards as she steps into the closet, towering over your seated form. 

“You’re being such a pain in the ass.”

Her hands wrap tightly around your waist as hoists you up and tosses you over her shoulder. You struggle futility, but there’s no chance you can escape the strong arm wound snugly around your midsection. 

Amber carries you easily down the stairs and you wriggle around faster, knowing from your frequent visits to the house that you’re almost across the threshold that leads into the kitchen. 

You’re placed onto the ground and firmly shoved to the other side of the island. Before you can even think to move, the steel barrel of a gun is pressed into your forehead. It’s Richie on the other end of it, and only then do you realize that Sam is laid out on the ground, a hand pressed into her side, where blood is trickling out despite her efforts to stop it. She looks up at you with sorrow and terror and you’re sure that your expression reflects hers like a mirror. 

Amber takes the knife that Richie offers to her and makes her way to a different corner of the kitchen. She jumps gleefully, and if things weren’t so fucked up you might’ve found the sight endearing.

Though the gun blocks out most of your vision, you see two other women in the kitchen. 

Gale Weathers and Sidney Prescott. Shit, even they managed to get trapped in this nightmare. 

Richie, seemingly pissed that you aren’t giving him your full attention, grips your jaw with more than enough force to leave a bruise. Your resulting moan of pain is insignificant to him.

“Leave her alone!” Sidney yells out and Amber’s knife presses threateningly into her throat, swiftly silencing her.

Richie laughs menacingly, “Sid, when are you gonna finally realize you aren’t in control here?” 

He turns towards you and frowns angrily.

“You know if it were up to me, you’d have been dead at the start of this thing.” 

A glob of his spit lands on your cheek and the gun is pushed further into your forehead, the force practically moving you backwards.

You’re scared, the most afraid you’ve ever been in your life. Your hands are trembling and you stutter, completely unable to come up with the necessary words to plead helplessly for your life. 

“Pathetic,” Richie growls out. He looks in Amber’s direction, “I don’t know what you saw in her honey.”

“She usually has a lot more fire in her.” 

You meet her gaze for a second. Amber’s eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide with what must be psychotic pleasure. 

You open your mouth to finally say something, but the sudden smack of the gun across your face shuts you up. You cry out and lift your hands to your face instinctually. Your head is pulsing at the unexpected pain.

While Amber’s distracted with Richie’s assault on you, Sidney makes a grab for a knife sitting on the countertop.

Her actions don’t go unnoticed. Amber reacts with the speed of a demon and plunges her knife into Sidney’s gut. Gale yells out as Sidney crumples to the ground.

With both Sidney and Gale momentarily incapacitated, Richie knocks you backwards, sending you carelessly stumbling back and straight into Amber’s arms. He turns towards Sam, while Amber pins you against the counter.

“Get rid of her Amber, we need to start staging the bodies. Fast baby, we don’t have much time.”

She hums, not bothering to verbally acknowledge him. You shiver as your eyes lock together, hers still full of straight mania. 

Her arm lifts up and she moves slowly, tracing the blade against the smooth skin of your face. You try not to gag at the coppery smell of blood that is being carelessly smeared across your face.

She smiles softly at you, creating a confusing juxtaposition with the wild expression that fills her eyes. 

Amber leans in to whisper almost lovingly in your ear, “I always knew you’d look so pretty covered in blood, baby.” 

You can’t stop the tears from leaking out of your eyes. You’re so distraught, it’s nearly impossible to think straight with how overwhelmed you are. How could this Amber be the same Amber that had admitted to being nervous the first time she told you she loved you? 

“Amber, please.” You begged brokenly, hoping the girl you loved so dearly was still somewhere inside the maniac that stands in front of you.

Her gaze softens just a hair and you nearly cheer at the glimpse of your Amber. 

“I’m sorry. You know I’d keep you around if I could.”

The relief exits your body. Your heart drops deep into your chest at the words.

“You said you’d protect me.” You feel desperate, there had to be something you could say to snap Amber out of this state.

She pouts and brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I did. Richie wanted you to be the opening kill, but I stopped that from happening.” 

The special smile that she always saved just for you spread across her face, “I even convinced him to leave you to me tonight. I’ll be the last person you see, won’t that be nice?”

Your jaw trembles with the newfound knowledge. Amber spared you, but only to prolong your life so you’d die by her hand. Your resolve finally breaks, and you are fully encased in dread. 

In a strange mirroring of the day’s earlier events, you begin weeping loudly. Amber’s arms wrap around you in an attempt to comfort you. 

She deposits a kiss onto the top of your head.

“I know you don’t understand it, but I’m doing this because I love you.”

Her arms tighten around you and you’re suddenly blindsided by excruciating pain. Amber’s knife is slowly pushed deeper and deeper into your body, your insides twist around at the intrusion. 

As you yell out in pain, she shushes and gently praises you, repeatedly whispering how much she loves you. 

She rips the knife out of your gut, just to harshly plunge it back in once, twice, and a third time. You feel sick at the squelching that sounds out each time the knife enters your stomach. 

Blood dribbles out of your mouth as you groan in pain. 

Hazily, you notice that she’s covered in your blood. Your vision is darkening and you feel yourself begin to dwindle in and out of consciousness. 

Amber takes note of this and leans closer, her lips nearly touching yours. 

“You did so good for me, love. I’ll make sure they cast someone beautiful to play you in the movie.”

With a final whispered confession of love, Amber places a gentle series of kisses to your bloodied lips. She stabs you once more, and lowers your body carefully to the ground as she pulls the knife out one last time. 

You lay there, unable to move even if you wanted to. You stare up at the ceiling, it spins around and around and around. 

Your ears are ringing. If you could think clearly, you reckon you’d wonder what you did wrong to end up in this situation. You don’t think there’s any possibility for things to have ended differently. Fate was cruel and unforgiving, but at this point you have no choice but to lie in the bed that it has made for you.

The pain is gone, replaced with the silent weight of nothingness. You feel yourself drifting away, and you welcome the feeling. Maybe your next life would be kinder to you.

Unfortunately for you, your peace never comes. 

Instead, you find yourself opening your eyes disorientedly. You let out a sharp hiss at the blinding white lights that glare back at you. 

Once you’ve adjusted to the light, you finally make out that there are a couple figures crowding around you. 

“Wha-”

It hurts to talk, as a matter of fact, everything hurts. 

“Alright, alright you’re okay. My name’s Dr. Ford. You’re gonna be in a lot of pain for a while, so let’s take it easy.”

You stare back at the man in disbelief.

Somehow, despite all the odds, you survived.

A/N: ta da!! I'm actually planning a part 2 to this that follows our dear reader through the events of scream vi, so stay tuned! Heads up, it won't actively be about an Amber x R relationship cuz... well you know :'(

Fellow Amber stans plz forgive me for not feeding y'all more regularly.

[that-one-english-nerd]

The Outsiders x EPIC : The Musical -

so i was listening to the new EPIC saga yesterday and naturally, because i can’t listen to music w/o relating it to my hyperfixations, i started thinking about the outsiders. specifically, i was listening to luck runs out and my friend and i were talking… and we were like “this song is so soda talking to darry about going to war,” so this sparked this post!

so i got to re-listening to the entirety of epic and was thinking how much it fits if soda were to genuinely survive the war but come back only a shell of himself… so this is what were going with.

(i will say before we even begin, i have limited knowledge on the vietnam war so if some of this is vague or inaccurate, forgive me)

i think there two ways you could picture this, a greek mythology au and realistic, vietnam war au. i was thinking, if we’re talking in reality standpoint, all the gods or even monsters are visions in soda’s mind (due to ptsd, other mental illness gained from war or physical injuries) as he’s traveling and committing more and more violence. is some of this a strench…? yes but this is js for kicks and giggles, humor me here lolol

either way, these are my assignments of characters. i need you to HEAR ME OUT (there’s explanations of songs under the list of characters) on these -

odysseus : soda

polites : steve

eurylochus : tim

zeus : dally

polyphemus : ……..bob

athena : darry

aeolus : cherry

circe : marcia

hermes : two-bit

penelope & telemachus : ponyboy & darry (these can be switched, doesn’t matter rlly)

calypso: sandy (…get it, cause calypso lives on an island)

poseidon : dally

tiersus : johnny (cause i HAD to include him somewhere)

song and character explanations under cut ~

song explanations :

the horse and the infant - i like to think that, while it was awful and so much worst than soda could of ever imagined, because of his constant optimism and general skills, he was someone many of his fellow soldiers looked up to. i’ll get into details when i get to luck runs out, but if we’re relating this specifically to epic, making him apart of the navy would work best (being all the time they spend traveling and at seas). anyways, therefore, overtime, due to his higher morale and just general skills, he gets a higher rank and a crew to care for. soda is rallying his crew for an attack, and thinking of who he was fighting for, ponyboy and darry.

now this is where it would differ from a greek mythology au, but just for the sake of making it easier on myself, this is the more realistic possibility. i like to think that being how in epic, this is the end of the trojan war, this would be a kind of flash forward, after soda had already been dealing w all this trauma. but, as i’ve mentioned, i like to envision dally‘s ghost (a vision soda has of him at least) as zeus, specifically before soda has to do something terrible to the enemy. dally is like, “you’re in a war man, just *do it*.”

for a less interesting but more realistic answer, you could say zeus was one of soda’s commanding officer or something but that’s less fun lolol

anyways, this is the beginning, as it is for odysseus, of soda completely losing his innocence.

just a man - (tw for child-related violence and war crimes) so, as it is in epic, you could picture this as an enemy leader’s son, and how this boy reminds soda of ponyboy in a way. this song is kinda self explanatory tho, soda takes this blow, and this guilt plagues his mind for the rest of the first act.

full speed ahead - so, with the vietnam war, there was an insaneeee draft process. and in relation to the story, those who were poor were more likely to be drafted than those who were going to college and able to pay tutition, being how they got an exemption from the draft. so i think the idea as tim of all people getting drafted and getting put under soda’s command (which is a shock to both of them) really interesting, being how we never really got to see their dynamic in the outsiders. so having tim, whose more on the ruthless side, as soda’s right hand and being more quick to violence makes sense to me. on the other hand, my favorite character headcanon, steve as polities. i think the idea of steve not giving a second thought to following soda into war makes a lot of sense, and being how soda had more of a responsibility on his shoulders, steve keeps more of his naiveness and “innocence” than soda does.

open arms - my stevepop heart loves this so much. over the time of war, soda became less and less like his normal self and steve knows that. he could always tell. so once they finally have time to themselves, he tries to remind soda of how life used to be, how there’s still good. the roles switch from soda normally being the optimistic one, reassuring everyone else, to steve doing the same for him. they mean sm to your honor :((

warrior of the mind - now, from a plot standpoint, i can fs see this as what soda pictures how darry would think of him now, or even how ponyboy would. soda kinda flashes back to their childhood, how both darry and soda were really close when they were kids, being how they both balanced each other out. but after their parents died, darry became a parental figure instead, athena-like you could say.

but ignoring plot, i think song really fits darry and ponyboy, espically with the “don’t disappoint me” and “he’s a warrior of the mind” because of ponyboy’s academic achievements.

polyphemus - now do i know how this would fit into the plot to be honest.. i just think the idea of bob (bob’s ghost if you will) or some soc showing up in soda’s path makes sense.

butttt once again, if you want something more realistic, you could make it someone on the enemy side.

survive - soda just seems like he’d be hella good with battle morale and strategy, what can i say? …also, as much as it breaks my heart, steve following soda into war and dying an early death makes sense but is equally as heartbreaking ;(

remember them - i think the slow fade-in near the beginning of the song gives very big soda energy. disassociating but then switching right back into gear (masking emotions for the sake of others) is something that comes natural to him. i also commented on this earlier but for as much as soda calls himself dumb, i think his street smarts are really good and being able to talk his way out of things or tricking people into believing lies is something he’s great at (which makes sense in context of the cyclops plot). plus the stupid decision of having mercy on…bob, a soc, an enemy, idfk, and then telling them his name makes more sense in the context of just losing steve and therefore making rash decisions because of this sudden lose.

my goodbye - soda seeming to “lose” darry’s positive view of him, at least in soda’s mind, because of all he had done and lost. this, of course, is simply what soda thinks darry would say if he was there. because of this, he pushes the “what would darry do?” mindset out of his head.

storm - not much to highlight in this song except for how soda is a badass captain™️

luck runs out - now of course, i keep mentioning this song as the beginning of this war au because while s.e. hinton technically said soda was drafted, i think it’s very possible that soda and his optimism view on life would easily be more swayed to propaganda to enlist rather than be drafted. plus, with becoming a soldier, a certain amount of money is given to you monthly (at least i think-). this, i think, is another pro to the idea of enlisting in soda’s mind because he wants to help better provide for his brothers.

but generally plot wise, soda taking on this positive mindset of “i can just go and ask for help” is almost a tribute to steve and what he wanted. but on the other hand, you have tim, who knows that not everyone is as welcome to help, especially after dally died from police brutality.

keep your friends close - not much to say about this either but for the fact that aeolous being cherry is very fun to think about. while the meaning of this lyric means very different things in the context of the outsiders versus epic, the line “keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” does really fit with cherry. ponyboy being the “enemy” that she quickly befriends and keeping him close. but soon, she starts giving info to the greasers, the socs in her eyes almost becoming the real “enemy”. might be wrong though, interpret it however you like, i just think it fits cherry!

also the “everything’s changed since polities” line really fits into how i think soda would grieve for steve while still at war. he has to stay strong for his crew but they all sense, *know* something’s off with soda, and put the pieces together that this is because of steve. without steve, soda doesn’t have as high of a morale on life in general, and therefore the crew doesn’t. which fits in with them (kinda accidentally) turning on him.

ruthlessness - now HERE ME OUT HERE, if bob is the cyclops, rather than dally seeing him as a “son”, him being like “you had mercy on a SOC.” but the “you had mercy on the enemy?!” also works. just in general, i think dally’s memory coming back to haunt soda, espically paired with dally also being zeus, is fitting honestly. while dally wasn’t always ruthless, we gotta keep in mind in this au, this is in soda’s mind. these “gods” or visions of people he once knew, in my eyes, are people coming back to haunt him in his most shameful state. no matter what dally would’ve really said, i picture soda thinking how disappointed the people he loved most would be in him if they saw him in that very moment. also, “ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves” is SO dally.

puppeteer - now again, being how circe is a witch, it’s a bit hard to fit this into a realistic setting but i js thought having marcia as her would be fun bc paired with…

wouldn’t you like - two-bit as hermes, i just think i’d be hilarious. i like to picture this as soda and two-bit on two ends of a phone, and for whatever reason, marcia is there distracting the crew from their goal. soda on one line would be like “so do you know of a soc named marcia” and two-bit on the other end like, “OMG WE WENT OUT ONE TIME, this is how to scare her off”

done for - self-explanatory, not much to say here tbh. marcia’s just iconic.

there are others ways - (with my stevepop heart) if like to think that *right after* steve’s death, it would be pretty much impossible for soda to be ��seduced” as well as the idea of pony and darry waiting for him would keep him focused on the end goal in that moment.

the underworld - i kinda like the idea of the underworld not being the actual underworld but a very dark and dangerous place, with the visions of the dead and soda’s past traumas coming back to bite him in that moment. the line between reality and fiction is a hard line to draw in that very moment. ALSO STEVE AND SODA’S MOM😭😭

no longer you - you know i HAD to include him somewhere, so here’s johnny finallyyyyy. i don’t really have much of an explanation other than being johnny’s quieter personality, him seeing everything in a way, him being tierras just makes sense.

monster - soda losing his mind finally and willing to do anything to drive these ghosts of the past out of his mind and get home to his brothers. self-explanatory :)

being how all the songs aren’t out yet, i’m just gonna stop here. thanks for listening to my yapping my boredom has created :) enjoy listening!

[zombiiegrr]

Brooklyn Baby. (๑>◡<๑)

a dbf! bucky x afab! reader.

word count : 3130

honestly everything is the same but Bucky is like healed happy and he more like amazing soldier then winter solder lol and jazz thanos didn’t happen causes it’s not marvel it’s more like real army idk with Tony still bring a billionaire + vision being ‘normal’ like wandavison and wanda acting like that aswell :)

cw: y/n is down so bad, cocky!bucky, slightly toxic! bucky not at first, age gaps (y/n is 21 while bucky is 38), cursing, smut. jealously, secret relationship. mentions of skin tone doesn’t exist here. daddy issues, slight mommy issues idk characters pick up the reader theyre all STRONG ass men so dont think the reader is supposed to be petite or anything!! ALSO there’s mention of recent readers 21 birthday ok I’m a june 3 gemini so… idk… ur birthday but it’s technically going to be hot in the fanfic so summer but I won’t say birthdates

Your mother had you at 17 leading to your father going into the military at 18 leaving you and your mother, fighting for his country meeting friends turning into family including bucky

i've always thought when someone watches someone growup then bangs them is kinda sooooo odd.. so bucky was never really around the reader when she was a kid he was on duty and when he was around the reader was way to nervous to even be downstairs when he was there so its not like that!!!!!!

music i listened to while writing. some song fit ill tell u to play them

new chapter

this is a series! comment to be added to the tag list

@aemondmylove @arilevinsonhavemybabies @masturbucky @alwayshungryforramen @yvonneeeee

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Now landing in New York! enjoy your holiday or welcome home!” The flight attendant says waking you up. You stood gain the feeling back in your legs, got your suitcase from above you wait for the people in front of you to get their items.

Your phone finally gained service flooding in texts from your roommate asking if you got on the flight safe. a bit from your mother telling you to make your dad get you things and more family telling you to have fun and say hi to your father for them. after reading most you finally got to your father's texts telling you his friends were coming to the airport to get you and to be “nice to them”

Just great. You loved your dads' friends the only thing was you had a crush on about every one of them realizing how attractive they are when you hit puberty making you shy around them leading to them thinking you dislike them. It had been 8 years since you left to California to live with your mother for school/the social life (Californian here!) Visiting during summers, Christmas, Thanksgivings and or your father's birthday. After 18 you choose spending summers and most holidays with your father and mother sometimes coming with.

Your fathers' main friends. Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, San Wilson, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, James Rhodes. James “Bucky” Barnes, & Scott Lang. Your father had a lot of friends from all over and They were all handsome, but Bucky was breathtaking. You hadn’t seen him in 8 years well you seen him but hadn't even had a full convo you would avoid him like the plague being so embarrassed of the things you talked about with your friends when they pointed him out in family vacation photos.

You finally fully got off the plane moving quicky not wanting to be late and make them wait outside as you arrive outside blinded by the brightness of the sun as you wait for your eyes to adjust. As you finally get the hang of the brightness you hear some walking fast behind you “NO WAY SAME AIRPORT!?” Scott says as he walks over holding cassies hand as she waves aggressively with her other hand you smile wide knowing Scott lived above you in California , San Francisco. So it made sense landing in the same airport.

A car horn makes you all look over quickly seeing an Chrysler 300 with a metal arm out the window meeting the glasses of a guy smirking at you and before you could react someone busts open the back door making your face light up realizing who it was.

“DOUNTTTTT!!!!!” Clint screamed getting looks from other people there as you ran to him aswell

“HAWKEYE!!!” Clint had earned the name hawkeye when he had been the only one approved to use a bow and arrow with guns on the field and according to your dad he moved and had the eyes of a hawk giving him the nickname “Hawkeye” which you loved as a child still using now when he called to check on you helping you during fails and letting you stay with his family during fights with your mom.

"Geez you look all different kid had to make sure it was you." Clint says as he hugged you tightly giving you a kiss on the forehead while taking your suitcase in the other arm.

"Is that really you superstar you got taller or is something else different?" A kind smile meets your eyes as Sam reaches over the driver's seat "Well, I'm 21 now! last time you seen me I was like what 17?" Clint nods his head as he puts your suitcase in the back of the car.

“WHATS UP TINY” Sam says as he gets out the car to run and hug Cassie earning a giggle from Cassie as he lifts her up “oh you brought your father” sam jokes as he puts her down “Yeah ok Sam it’s great to see you to” Scott laughs as he hugs him and Clint

"Hello ladybug" Bucky says removing his glasses. he called you ladybug when he came home from duty to you welcoming him home with your dad in a ladybug outfit and when you dyed your hair red and black and always wore black and white. You liked ladybugs and liked that the few times you spoken; he had called you one.

"James-" he laughed slightly at your formality reminding you that bucky was fine making your stomach fluttery at the eye contact "Almost drove past you bug. You look beautiful you father talks about you like you're still a kid hiding from us on the stairs. But then I seen Scott your a lifesaver Scott " Bucky eyes you making you feel small under his gaze.

"Woah lay off the charm handsome" Scott laughs out loud not causing Bucky to break eye contact just smirk a bit more.

You get in the car begging bucky to drive you home fast He laughs and jokes about how insane Californians are with driving. OfCourse the two in the car start agreeing and shit talking Californians. You laugh seeing as you were literally in NEW YORK and so were they. and in an argument between the worst driving between New York and Cali? New York takes the cake or at least in your opinion.

you see scott putting his stuff in the back and you asking if Scott and Cassie were getting a ride then you got confirmation that Scott was invited by your father and you would be going to the same place!

the car ride was a bit quiet besides humming from you or clint. Many questions from Cassie before she passed out knocked out after 5 minutes. Bucky did ask about school, housing, and asked how your mom was doing. You answered all happily just happy to talk to anyone other then your roommate or your mom. Sam starts to ask the ‘good’ questions asking if you had had a drink yet since you had (recently) turned 21 extremely quietly looking over at Cassie You answered half ass knowing you truthfully had only had a few cocktails and maybe a beer while at a party only enough to get tipsy nothing getting you drunk.

You Start to pull up to the house watching your father standing outside with Tony talking about something noticing us pulling in.

“OH YOUR HOME” you father says LOUDLY gaining a very blank stare from Tony covering his ear rolling his eyes. He parks and you run out to hug your father being too broke to see him but not wanting to ask others to pay for a ticket you hugged him for a while before tony ask how long it’s been since you had seen each other.

“6 Months. Longest time since I was on duty.” You father answers gaining a frown from you. “College payment. I went broke and tried working overtime but my car-“your father cut you off with another hug reminding you that you’re here now daddy issue go crazy.

It had taken a while to repair the relationship with your father dealing with the damage of what he did and how his cheating broke up your family and how he ‘parented you’ due to his own issues and ‘shell shock’ from the years at service you could recognize he was trying so hard to change and heal.

“not to ruin the moment but I have a surprise or well we have a surprise let’s go inside” you dad says as you watch Clint grab your bag so you start walking in with your dad.

Steve, and Rhodes were talking in the kitchen looking over and noticing you. “Hell kid you sure grew up” Steve walks over giving you a big hug seen as those are common today sorry if you hate hugs Rhodes behind also giving you a hug.

“Ok give me the floor please lady’s and gentlemen. I and Darren have decided to force all of you to go on a family trip with us and before any of you say shit like ‘work’ or ‘kids’ or whatever I will slap you i cleared everything for you guys cause I’m me. But yeah kids are coming with causes it a damn huge lake house” Tony says as he pulls his laptop out to pull up the lake house Information.

“We and I mean WE ALL will be staying at Twin Oaks At The Chapin Estate for the summer because I own that place and it sits there collecting dust. HEY, Clint your kids they will have a room with bunk beds and Scott you okay with Cassie bunking them and Morgan?” Scott said it was perfectly fine with him if It was okay with Cassie who was nodding. Tony continued “it’s me and pepper of course Darren already claimed his room Nat and banner are gonna visit but not stay, Vision, Wanda, their kids and Thor will be staying in a place that they decided to rent like a seven-minute walk away from away from us so that’s cool. So that’s three more rooms any takers?

Everyone was kind of collecting information. You were overjoyed about going out to the lake and the family restaurants in that area. Sam said that he was fine with a couch and really didn’t need a room which a few people without rooms started to agree with.

As everyone started talking about rooms and stays and everything else your mind starts to wander to Bucky and the thought you and him staying in the same place overnight although you did feel a bit silly getting so excited over that. You didn’t even realize he was sitting right in front of you at the table smiling at you making you feel warm you stupidly thought if he could hear your thoughts. You thought about asking your dad to put you both in the same room cringing at the look your father would give you.

“hey ladybug” bucky whispers making you look at him making eye contact for the first time in a bit. “Hm?” You ask trying not to express any nervousness especially not around everyone else and especially not in front of him. “excited? I haven’t been on a trip in forever even if we’re staying in New York that place is expensive knowing Tony” you agreed saying you were excited just nervous about getting bored or homesick he laughed a bit and reminded you he won’t let you get bored locking eye contact feeling his knee slightly hit yours before he his smirk slightly grew.

“Okay final decision. Me and pepper, Clint and Laura, The kids, Darren, y/n, Rhodes, and Steve. And for some reason the rest of you prefer the couches? I dont know but I don’t care it’s figured out. Also shit I told the kids I’m sponsoring that he can bring his friends out to the lake and the pool and the gym and all that they aren’t staying but heads up.”

“Parker?” Darren asks. Tony nodded his head as he closed his computer. Everyone looked happy and it make you happy. Bucky would be using a couch which seemed like something he would do but being honest he’ll probably share a room with Steve falling asleep on the couch in Steve’s room of choice. You were fine with him sneaking in your room though

When the thought came to your head your looked at him right away giggling and squeezing your legs together like a teenager everyone looked at your confused and you father asked what was so funny backed up by bucky wondering as-well you laughed again apologizing and changing the subject saying you would be going shopping to pack for the trip backed up by Scott asking if you would be so kind to pick up a bathing suit for Cassie which you agreed

“Do you even remember where everything is?” Bucky teased. Why was he being so flirty? Were you being delusional?? Were you misinterpreting everything? Was he flirting or just hot and talking .

“yeah. Wanna go with just incase I forgot?” Smoothhhh you thought to yourself begging that no one else will invite themselves attempting to keep his invitation quiet.

“Don’t mind if I do. I have the ugliest swim trunks so I have to get new ones hun” he replied getting up saying he would get his keys

Everyone else said it would be smart to go Home and pack or something all deciding to meet up here again the next morning at 7am to start the drive over seeing as it would take a few hours did my research frfr

about 30 minutes later! (>ω^)

“sooo adult Life? How do you like it? I asked this before but in a car full of people and a kid so is it the same answer?” Bucky asked as walked around the clothing store you laughed knowing you did change your answer cause of the people in the car

“It’s shit. My mom forgets I’m a adult and cussed me out because i went to “way to many parties in one week” and posted “things” when I knew people from church view my story so she took my car which caused me to spend everything on a new one which is why I couldn’t pay to come out here” you could feel the words pouring out of you and Bucky was an amazing listener he followed every word you spoke feeling and reading you emotions and you could tell that made your heart pound.

“Man im sorry kid. Why didn’t you reach out? Dumb question I know it can be hard but your ‘uncle’ is a billionaire he would have happily got you a ticket to visit and your dad missed you like crazy he would have definitely helped.”

you frowned again. “oh no ladybug I didn’t mean like you did something wrong I’m just saying we’re here for you. We care and if you ever need to come out here for anything we will happily help. excuse me I’m not the best with words”

“you’re great. thank you bucky.” you said as you hugged his arm he pulled you away a bit which made you confused but then he gave you a full hug in the middle of the store which made you laugh in embarrassment, but you wouldn’t let him go. He smelt so good and covered so much of you he held on to you so tightly and easy it make you shake.

“Woah you're shaking to hard of a hug. Sorry kid” you held on before he could let go and reassured him that you were fine and just a bit touch starved, he let out an attractive laugh whispering take all the time you need. You could feel the change in your panties as you grew wetter in his hold as he whispered asking If you were alright. Making you hold him tighting nodding you head.

You finally let go shaking embarrassed that you were this into a hug for crying out loud. You locked eye contact he was smirkingly as usual looking down at your basket asking if you got everything you needed you nodded asking if he did Aswell seeing as he had nothing.

“Oh no sweetheart I just wanted a excuse to come with” you genuinely felt like you had a flood in your panties you felt so shameless for getting so wet over that over everything he did or said you nodded and smiled at him walking away before you did something stupid.

While in line Bucky was clearly eyeing your basket. The underwear the bikini THE everything or maybe he was just looking over? Unless he asked “isn't that a bit small?” pointing at the bikini “your daddy isn't gonna like that”

“I don’t care what daddy thinks or says I want the bikini”

for once Bucky looked surprised or well for a few seconds before he had a different look on his face he looked so good like he liked whatever I said I didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you’re sure it had something with saying daddy.

“Move in line y/n” once again whispering in your ear you did once again feeling that pulse in your panties. If he whispered in your ear one more time you were gonna-

“You total is $226.88 cash credit? Debit? Or Apple Pay” The cashier snapped you out of it with that total as you were so confused how you got that much stuff for a 1-and-a-half-month trip. Before you could think Bucky puts his Card in being way to buff for you to cross over and cancel you just stood there saying nonooooooooo i GOT it when you definitely didn’t have it but Bucky did. Tony slipped him a card

He grabbed your bags grabbing your hand aswell leading you out saying let’s go.

“Bucky that was a lot of money.” He ignores you as you both get back into the car as you keep repeating that he didn’t need to and that you needed to look at everything to see if it was even worth it and he still wasnt repling until he did.

“Y/n i GOT it. Please kid don’t worry about me we’re gonna have so much fun and spend a lot of time together if thats alright with you and if you would stop stressing about some money right now we could start having fun right sweetheart? Thank you.” He said calmly just sternly making me sit back into lt seat

“Atta girl thank you” you almost whimpered outloud he was very leading and it made you weak he probably knew so much things you don’t you want him to teach you

“hellllllllo you’re Home ladybug” you look around seeing that youre in your driveway and start to freak out nervous to ask for his number. “Thank you so much. Is there anyway we could talk? Instagram? Number? Email? Sorry that’s silly.“ you were mixing all of your words up again. he nodded and took his phone out handing his phone to you as you put you phone number in you felt his eyes on you.

“Thank you i was going to ask someone for you number but easy if you did First” you GOT nervous at THE idea that he fought of you.

“good night Bucky don’t forget tomorrow” You said as you got your bags and got out the card.

“Oh i wouldn’t miss it for the world ladybug” he said as he watching you making sure you got into the house safely

until next time sweetheart.

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I hope you guys liked this!!! took so long im so sorry plz plz let me know how you guy liked it also Lmk for tag list this is a series.

[luce-speaks]

witches by good kid is a forsython song (thank you @nightingem for giving me an excuse to do this)

a lot of this is explained in the annotations - i think a lot of the specific descriptions and narrative beats of the song line up nicely with the story of how forsyth and python ended up leaving their little village together to go seek their fortunes in the deliverance

then we get to the chorus. both halves of the chorus are labeled 'visions' because they plague me with visions whenever i listen to this song. the first part - forsyth and python as kids, staying up all night, hiding from their parents, talking about how much better everything will be when they leave town together. forsyth spins elaborate tales of the knightly adventures they'll have 'out there'. by the time they finally manage it, they both know the real world is nothing like the books, but i think the spirit of that original dream stays with them both in one way or another.

and then the second part - ending out with "we thought we'd make it alive / or at least we'd give it an honest try" - it's bitter and disappointed. "we thought we'd make it alive" seems to imply that one of them didn't make it. and the other, still holding that dream, is disappointed at how hollow it feels without the two of them together.

[fictionaldudesrules]

Reader gets rescued by the Ubersreik Five and is living in the Keep. Victor have... feelings... about that

NSFW, Victor Saltzpyre x reader

Your soft, often cheerful humming sounded through the keep these days. Sometimes when you thought that you were all alone, the humming turned into singing.

“You are mine, I am yours,

Thereof you may be certain.

You're locked away

within my heart.

Lost is the key

And you must ever be therein!”

So many songs about love and longing. Young men and women in the songs pledging eternal love and faithfulness in a world so much more simple than the one you’re living in. In the lyrics you sang there was no chaos, no armies of evil spreading war and plague throughout the lands.

One time he'd unintentionally eavesdropped on you laughing and gossiping with Feugonasus, you listening to the older woman's immoral tales and scandalous advice and in turn you’d told her about the young men in your village that had caught your fancy through the years. The one that won your heart and the promise of your hand in marriage, him you'd kissed and even fondled you’d admitted with blushing cheeks. But now he was dead, like most others from your little town after it fell to the armies of chaos.

After they'd found you, hidden among the ruins and debris, Sienna and Markus insisted on rescuing the survivor. Loher had asked you to stay and work in the keep, and that's why the old building now was filled with humming and songs of love, much to the annoyance of Saltzpyre. At first he’d welcomed the benefits of someone that dealt with some of the daily chores and necessities of life, like sweeping the floors and cleaning (as well as the keep could be held clean) and doing all their laundry. Even their most bloodied and worn garbs came back to them clean and stitched together. Kruber once commented on one of his shirts, a hole was mended with an embroidered pattern, done with white thread so it was only visible up close, but it was clearly the twin tailed comet. It was his favorite shirt and the sign of Sigmar was of course a suitable decoration for a man like himself, but Krubers grinning whenever Saltzpyre wore the garment made him refrain from using it. Maybe Kruber, the simpleton, did not appreciate that you also were a devout follower of Sigmar. Nonetheless, embroidery was unnecessary and the time could have been spent doing more hard work or actually praying to Sigmar.

The food had also improved, and they now got newly baked bread so hardtacks were only needed during longer missions. He had seen you kneading dough, sleeves pulled up high, flour on your arms, clothes and even on your little nose. Your dress and the shift underneath slipped slightly while you worked, using your weight to thoroughly kneed, bosom heaving from the excursion.

For some reason he could not stand being in the same room while hearing you sighing from your labor. It made him unfocused and irritable, but it might be that the room in the otherwise cold keep got too warm while you worked there. Saltzpyre sought refuge in his room in the cellars, cold and free from the annoying sight and sound of you.

He sat down by his desk and opened a book, a volume about the cults that worshiped the chaos deity Slaanesh. While reading his thoughts strayed to the image of your cheeks and bosom, blushing red while working. The vision of your slipping shift, made from fine thin linen, made him lose all focus on the text in front of him. Victor could feel how his cock strained against his tight hoses, his attempts to distract himself with prayers to Sigmar was futile. He gave in when it got painful, loosening the laces and freeing his throbbing erection.

He was supposed to be above such silly and degrading needs, not giving women and animalistic pleasures any place in his life, but here he was with his painfully hard cock in his hand. His slender veined hand stroked over the swollen head, spreading the large amounts of pre-cum along the length of his long cock. The image of you kneading the dough came back to him, your little noises and the flushed skin that had such a healthy glow and looked so smooth. You were a vile temptress, distracting him from his true purpose. Yes that must be it, he was under some kind of evil spell that made his mind foggy, filled with lustful thoughts of you and his body weak with carnal needs. Your singing was probably part of it, maybe even the seemingly innocent little hummings you made was a part of breaking his spirit. Saltzpyre tightened his grip, imagining shutting you up with his cock in your mouth, pink soft lips around his girth instead of his old calloused hands. Your clothes and skin would be dusty with flour, even the little white dot you for some reason always got on your nose was there in his fantasy. He started to increase the speed, seeking his release with images of your little mouth filled by him and his seed running down your chin and on to your breasts. He came over his stomach, partially on his shirt, the lower hem soaked. While coming down from his release he realized you would clean that shirt, your soft little hands holding the garment with his seed on it. He slumped over his desk, head in hands. Right then he heard you humming outside his door and then a soft little

knock on the door.

“Herr Saltzpyre, I have your dinner here. I will just put it outside, please eat when you find time. Even a champion of Sigmar like yourself needs to take breaks. Have a good evening.” Oh how he hated you….

[beausling]

˗ˏˋthe inner workings of my brain´ˎ˗

welcome to my blog !!! here you may find things such as; stories and poetry i write, random yapathons, and a fuck ton of reposts of memes or other shit i like, amongst other things.

꩜ writing

i will write for : marvel, the walking dead, greysverse, 911verse, supernatural, screamtv, obx, t70s, 13rw, the society, gilmore girls, the boys, suicideboys, sturniolo triplets, and a few others

most all the fics i write are, or will be, 18+ to some capacity. my blog as a whole is 16+. not everything i’ve written, or will write, will be NSFW, but more likely than not will have mature content/themes, so always check tags and read at your own risk. i have and will often write quite of bit of dead dove. you have been warned.

꩜ MAV NAV

fic masterlist (under construction), poetry masterlist, cai acc

asks are open, but i don’t have any fic or bot req rules atm, so just go scrazy so stupid i guess (but not too crazy).

꩜ my writing history, and style

i’ve been writing pretty much my whole life, as long as i can remember. i started writing fanfics when i was in middle school like most people, but i didn’t get super serious about my writing, as in that i could make it a career, until my freshman year of high school. i’ve been writing poetry for about five or six years now, and i started writing a poetry book in 2022. i also started writing music when i was in middle school, but i’ve stopped quite a few times cause i’ve never thought it was good enough, but i recently got back into it.

basically everything i’ve ever written, be it fics, poetry, or music, are all venting my emotions. i write what i know best, which is trauma. in come many wounded and dead doves.

꩜ about me

i’m a man by many names, but you can call me october/oct, or wren. i’m 19 and my birthday is november 29. i’m okay with any pronouns, but the main prns i use are she/fai/them. i’m queer and genderfluid. my favorite color is green. my favorite season is fall. my favorite holiday is halloween. my favorite animals (in no particular order) are cats, frogs, penguins, hedgehogs, cows, and prairie dogs. my favorite artist is stevie nicks, in and outside of fleetwood mac, and my favorite fleetwood mac song is i’m so afraid (live at warner bros 97’). other than listening to music, playing with my cats, watching shows and movies, and reading+writing, some of my other hobbies are video games (black opps 3 is my fave), smokin tokin, drawing+painting, baking, sfx makeup, decorating my bedroom, collecting little trinkets, and more. i’m an audhder with bpd and insomnia living in michigan, so i’m always awake but sooo eepy and constantly having thoughts and being plagued with visions and such.

꩜ do not follow/interact if you are :

racist, any kind of phobic, etc. basically if you’re bigoted in any way fuck all the way off, you’re under 16 or don’t have your age on your acc or indicate age range, you don’t respect tw or tone tags, you don’t hold your faves accountable, mcyt supporters, w*nce*ties, kieran wilcox + negan smith apologists (but maybeee if you give me valid points), general weirdos

[marixrose]

Julian Devorak - Tolerable

Words: 1130

Song to listen to while reading: tolerate it by Taylor Swift

I had been working as an apprentice for Julian Devorak helping him find a cure for the Red Plague. I had been working with him for about three months now, and everyday I see a change in him. 

I bring him coffee every morning because he hardly sleeps at night and he’s going to need something to keep him doing his best. At first he was grateful, always smiling when I handed him a cup. Now he just waved me off with his hand. 

I make us dinner every night because we work so late stressing over this cure. He used to be happy eating what I made, but now I watch him not take a bite and throw it all away in front of me. 

I just brushed it off saying he was just stressed. We both were. I didn’t push him away anytime he tried to do something generous for me, then again he never did anything for me. 

The more I look back on our time together the more I realize everything was one sided. It was always me giving him coffee, making dinner, cleaning up after him, making sure he rests, giving him reassuring hugs. 

It was only me putting effort to make sure he was doing alright and in the process I lost myself. I forgot to make sure I was doing alright. I wasn’t. 

I slowly began to stop doing everything that had become a regular routine for me, and started to focus on myself. One thing that made me decide to stop trying to please Julian was that I had contracted the Plague. 

I tried to tell him, “J-Julian,” I tried to say, holding back a cough. My vision was blurry, tears brimming at the edge of my eyes. 

“God Y/n do you ever just leave me alone?” He shouted not looking up from his book. 

I was taken aback by his actions, he never yelled at me before. Sure tolerating my acts of kindness is one thing but yelling at me was something else.

“Fine.” I managed to say with all the strength I could muster. 

I went to my office and locked the door. I was sick, better to die alone than get everyone else sick. 

I get to die not knowing the cure, all my efforts in vain. 

I get to die knowing that I wasn’t important to anyone and no one thought to take care of me, it was always me taking care of them.

I grab paper and a pen and begin to write a letter for Asra, my best friend. Suddenly I'm hit with a sense of sadness knowing Ill never be able to see him again.

Dear Asra,

By the time you read this letter, I will already be dead. Thank you for always being my best friend. We’ve known each other for what, 8 years? 9? Seems like just yesterday we met. 

You have given me the best life experiences, thank you for that. I’ll gladly bring those memories with me to the other side. 

I’ll miss riding the jelly fish and traveling to the other realms. I’ll miss the beautiful view from the castle's library, much better than the dungeon where they hid us. 

I wish I could have the pumpkin bread one last time. I wish I could see the shop and see how far you’ve come with it. 

 I won’t miss the smell of this place or the restless nights wondering that if you sleep you’ll miss the key to the cure. 

   Tell Faust that I love her and that I'll miss her. Same for you, my happiest memories were with you. If only we had more time together. 

    One thing I will regret most is spending most of my life trying to catch the attention of someone who never wanted it. I thought that maybe if I tried hard enough then maybe, just maybe, he would see me the same way I see him. But to him I will always be his apprentice that he can only tolerate. 

My time with Julian wasn’t all in vain however, I will miss the nights where we were both stressed but we calmed each other down by starting conversation. I will miss those nights, the only time I didn’t feel like I took up too much space or time.

Thank you Asra, for everything. 

    Don’t miss me too much, Y/n.

I fold the paper, tears threatening to fall and ruin it. I focus my magic on the letter and try to find Asra’s aura. With a swift snap my letter disappears off to find Asra wherever they may be. 

I cough violently into my hand, only to find a trail of blood after I pull back my hand. I know I don’t have much time. 

I sit at my office desk thinking of everything I’m going to miss out on now that I’m dying. I let out a sob as I curly myself up into a ball. The pain is unbearable. 

After a half hour, I stood up, almost falling over from how dizzy I was. I opened my door to find a bed to die in. 

I opened it to find Julian about to knock on my door with a concerned look on his face, which quickly changed to worry once he saw my state.

“Y-y/n you're sick, but you didn’t- when did this- I could have-” He started to panic, wide eyed. It would have been nice to see him care for me like this without me on the verge of death. I guess it's true that people only care once you're dead; or in my case about to die.

“I did. I meant I tried but you got angry and yelled at me to leave, so I did.” I say softly, not having enough energy to be angry. 

His face flashed with guilt as he began to frantically speak, “Y/n I never meant to yell, I was just-” 

“Stressed. I know. We both are, but I never yelled at you.” I cut him off, I’d be damned if I’m going to spend my last moments arguing with the man I love. Loved. 

Heartbroken over a love that never even existed. 

He looks hurt by what I said but doesn’t push it. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.” I whisper, starting to feel the world fade away. 

I smile slightly at Julian before whispering my last words, “Thank you for tolerating me.”

-Time Skip-

“I’m sorry, Y/n, if only I was there for you like you were for me.” Julian said sadly as he watched my body get dragged into a boat to go to the Lazaret.

Words, how little they mean, when you’re a little too late. 

[himemeiya]

Stumbled upon your blog yesterday and realised you were the one behind the Utena Bet On it AMV, plus all the other videos on that channel! I had a friend who had already watched RGU reccomend the show to me and when I finished the finale she sent me a bunch of videos, essays, meta, memes she really liked about Utena. Out of the videos your vine videos, your bet on it amv and your tiktok sounds utena videos all featured as Things U Gotta Watch. Top Tier. And they are! I cannot stress how good they are. I've got a friend I'm trying to get to watch utena and I'm already prepared to send your whole channel her way.

Like, your Bet On It amv is just crazy - to the point I associate the whole song with utena instead of high school musical. High School Musical Who? I have driven home from work with the song blasting and in my head I'm thinking of the corrosponding imagery in my head. listened to the song a LOT just thinking of the amv. 'blame the world but never blame you' and it focusing on anthy. the start 'everybodys tryna get in my head' with everyone who manipluates utena? the bridge speeding up through all their utena/anthys relationship until utena gets up again at the climax of the song? This video is a masterpiece.

The vines and the tiktok sounds are soooo spot on and hilarious. every onee. and seeing an upbeat version of 'empty chairs at empty tables' to the end of utena emotionally altered something in me oh my lordie. I got introduced to the song The Draw from your other amv, which is SO PERFECT for the black rose arc?

And as a Lizzy McApline fan the ceilings youtube short took me OUT! the way the details about the car, the lines about 'you dont exist' being applied to utena's prince/akio, 'story ive seen before' being the prince/princess/witch ohturi mythology and ending with anthy at the end....... !!!!

All this to say I love all your utena edits on youtube and will be watching them many times over, as well as showing them to other people. Great work. ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯

🥺 This message is so damn nice and I have reread it multiple times cause oh my god your appreciation of my videos just makes me so happy and I'm so glad you watched and enjoyed them!! 😭 The support I've gotten from the fandom is very heartwarming, I just love it!!!

Yes hehe I'm the one behind all those videos! The Bet On It video specifically was one that lived in my head for YEARS until I finally sat down and decided to make it everyone else's problem too 😂 I would just listen to the song on repeat while geting overly emotional imagining Utena's journey and the fact I was tearing up to a Troy mf Bolton song was so unhinged 💀 yet now look at me, I have spread my vision like a plague amongst the fandom and everyone else gets to be just as unhinged over the golf course disney movie meme song as I am ⛳️ I would have it no other way. My favorite comments on that video are the ones along the lines of "I clicked this thinking it was gonna be funny but now I'm crying" cause if that doesn't just sum up the experience of Revolutionary Girl Utena itself then idk what does 😂

RGU's tonal conflict is one of my favorite things so choosing goofy audios for the end of the show was such a treat lmfao. And ugh The Draw is just such a good and ominous song. I rlly love how the Black Rose arc is all about radicalizing character's emotions to the point where they'll do anything to get what they think will fix their lives. Reverse therapy with Mikage is a hell of a drug. 🦋☞

I rlly feel like Ceilings captures that self-sacrificial "first love" feeling so many girls go through (especially with men) where they're uncomfortable and can't be open but ignore all those red flags until it gets to a point where things crumble and they realize the relationship never existed how they were imagining it. GAH THE FEELINGSSSS.

Sheesh thank you so much again for this message, it really brightened my week and was so touching to read. 😭💜 If I may humbly offer some video suggestions (if you haven't already watched them) I really love the For Your Love amv by Mari F and the Utena in 7 Minutes amv by Akilice. The first rlly captures that melancholic yet hopeful tone of Utena & Anthy and the latter has the audacity to make me emotional over a goddamn acapella Hamilton mashup of all things 💀 (the It's Quiet Uptown part literally destroys me every time.....). Digi Story has an Utena Deep Dive Analysis that I really enjoy, he talks about how RGU is "prismatic" in it's storytelling where there's no singular interpretation because there's just so much to look at and analyze. And finally, the Therefore You and Me animatic by edsartfactory literally changed my life it's ridiculously good!!

AHH thanks once again and I hope you have a great weekend!! 💞

[tarnishedxknight]

[ Another Time Another Place A Hollow Universe In Space ]

When Vossler angrily said that mocking him was punishable by imprisonment, likely to intimidate and silence them, Rocket waved at him with a dismissive paw. “Save it, pal. Our team was formed accidentally at the Kyln, which is… you guessed it! A prison. I’ve escaped twenty-three prisons, so I wouldn’t bother if I were ya.”

Vossler didn’t seem self-aware enough to realize the Guardians were respectful with Reks, Basch or the other guards for a reason. But Vossler had clearly noticed that even the other guards chuckled at how ineffective his remarks were, which made Rocket think they didn’t like the man very much. Meanwhile, Mantis couldn’t ignore the sensation that something was wrong. The feeling made her antennae go crazy. Her fingertips went numb, her senses trying to adapt to the place. It was like running into a cobweb; you could barely see it, but you could feel it clinging to you. It was something she had never experienced before, despite the hundreds of planets they had visited.

“C'mon, man,” Quill said to Vossler when he started to insult Reks. “He’s still learning. Give him a break. I get it, you’re smart and we’re idiots, you know better and everyone else does not. If you’re so capable, stick to annoying other adults. Not kids.”

“It is a childish and cowardly thing to do,” Gamora said with a nod, agreeing with her boyfriend’s statement. “There is a difference between using your authority to maintain order and abusing it to belittle and demean young ones. Pathetic. Arrogant men like yourself tend to assume the entire galaxy belongs to them.” Gamora got close to his face, partly to shield Reks, but mostly to make sure Vossler could see her hardened expression. “If I were one of your colleagues, I wouldn’t trust you in the slightest. If I were a damsel in distress, I would trust you even less,” she hissed as she glared at him.

“You fuckin’ tell him, babe,” Quill said, unable to hide his proud, smug smirk.

Mantis felt slightly better after the Guardians held her in a group hug, providing her with a sense of familiarity by letting her read their emotions, helping her ground herself. In her disoriented state, she couldn’t see Munoh right away, but she could feel their presence even before the Occurian got close to her. When they stared at her, Mantis just… stared back, her eyes wide with surprise and incomprehension. The entire experience was affecting her, and now she had a vision to deal with. As her face paled, Mantis swallowed, trying not to engage with the hallucination, and focused on the Zune, trying to pick a song to listen to. However, as she adjusted the headphones over her ears, she quickly glanced at Munoh once again.

When Basch returned and told Quill that the King would see them, the half-human half-Celestial hybrid clapped once and did a little dance. “Cool, awesome! I mean…” Quill stilled and cleared his throat, bowing his head. “Thank you, Captain. We are grateful for your kindness, and we will remind it fondly in the future.”

“Remember it, not remind it. Dumbass,” Rocket corrected.

“If we have permission to do so, we’re all going. Together,” Quill said, ignoring Rocket. “Y'know, I think we know why Mantis feels the way she does. It doesn’t seem to be a health problem, it’s more of an empath problem.” He turned to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Can you walk?” He smiled when Mantis nodded. “Yeah? Good. Come on, Guardians!” he roared.

“Why are you yelling?” Drax inquired.

“Yeah, we’re right here,” Mantis complained.

__________

“Ah, criminal fugitives, then. I might have known,” Vossler said judgmentally. “King Raminas is occupied with keeping this kingdom safe amidst war and plague. He hasn’t time to waste on miscreants like yourselves.”

Reks hated being left with Vossler. Dealing with him was night and day compared to his captain. It made Reks wonder how and why Vossler was accepted into the Order in the first place, but it was not his place to ever comment, of course.

Vossler looked to a few mechanics who were waiting to perform maintenance on the ship, even as they looked up at it and whispered amongst themselves at all the parts that looked like none they’d ever seen before. “Well?” he called to them and they all stiffened. “The sooner we fix this junkheap, the sooner we shall all be rid of these delinquents.”

The mechanics sprung into action, inasmuch as they went to approach the ship to check parts and skystones that didn’t exist, and to repair other parts they knew nothing about...

When Quill questioned his treatment of Reks, strangely going so far as to refer to the royal guardsman as an infant goat, for some unknown reason, Vossler listened quietly. As a very green woman continue to berate him, he stared for a moment before motioning for Reks to come closer to him. “You there, lad.”

“Y-yes, Ser Azelas?” Reks said, stepping forward.

“How many summers have you seen?” he asked.

“Seventeen, ser,” Reks replied.

“And how long are you enlisted in Dalmasca’s army?” Vossler pressed.

“Two years, ser,” the young man answered.

“And how long are you in service within the Royal Guard?” Vossler asked.

“One year, ser,” Reks replied, straightening a bit more with his response. It was clear that he was very proud of that promotion, indeed.

“There,” Vossler said, turning back to Quill. “He is no child. The age of adulthood in Dalmasca is sixteen, since you claim to be unaware of Ivalician cultures, and he has been already two years a soldier. Furthermore, in times of war and political unrest, we do not employ idiots among the Royal Palace Guard. Our king’s safety is paramount. Only the finest are promoted to such positions. The lad’s failing is neither lack of intelligence nor experience, but rather...” he glanced back at Reks, “lack of manners towards his superiors.”

“A-apologies, ser, if I have been at all rude,” Reks said to Vossler.

The corners of Vossler’s mouth curled ever so slightly upwards, his immense ego reveling in the guard’s subservience. “You are forgiven. But you will conduct yourself better from this moment onward.”

“Yes, ser,” Reks said.

Munoh noticed the one with very strong energy behaving... oddly. More than once she almost looked directly at them, but seemed to quite deliberately avert her gaze. Munoh sensed her energy becoming more volatile, as if disturbed by their presence. “You sense me, child... do you not?” Munoh asked very gently, a curious inquiry rather than a blunt challenge. Not many could detect the presence of an Occurian if they wished to remain undetectable, not without magical assistance, and so Munoh was impressed and intrigued. “No harm do I mean. Be at peace,” they said, offering some calming energy in her direction, since she seemed to be so unsettled. It was ancient, Munoh’s magic, but not threatening. More like an old, wise, guardian than an insidious intruder. Only a little, though, did they offer, for this one seemed to be highly sensitive to surrounding energies, and Munoh had no desire to overwhelm.

Upon Basch’s return, the very air seemed lighter among the ranks. “Aye, you’ve all permission to have audience with His Majesty. Howe’er, I must ask that you leave any and all weapons behind. If you are unaware, war currently rages on all sides around us. There are many who would seek to threaten His Majesty’s life and Dalmascan autonomy. ‘Tis a risk we cannot take. I bid you understand.” It was not negotiable, and yet Basch said it as though it were a kind request among friends rather than a direct order. He had a way with tone and words, with making those around him feel seen and heard, and with putting others at comfortable ease. It was part of the reason why he was Knight Captain over an older, native Dalmascan like Vossler. “You have my word that none shall threaten you unprovoked inside the palace, or they will answer to me,” he said rather formally. “Treat with us in peace, and we shall do the same with you.”

Vossler had taken to idly picking at his fingernails with the tip of a dagger while he listened to this conversation. Why was Raminas bothering with these lowlifes? Did he not have more important things to do with his time?

“Ser Azelas, remain here and make certain their ship is properly tended to,” Basch ordered.

“Aye,” Vossler simply said, though he was already bored of this.

Basch turned to the group of royal guardsmen, pointing in turn at two of them. “You, and you. Remain here and assist as needed. The rest of you, with me,” he ordered.

Reks, included among through going with Basch, was far more outwardly relieved than perhaps he should have been.

The Royal Palace of Rabanastre was a sprawling building of three main floors, six towers, and hundreds of years of history. Some seven hundred years old, the massive building consisted of white and beige sandstone, white marble, and granite, all locally sourced. As the Guardians were led inside its carved walls and high ceilings, it was apparent that the ancient building was very well kept. Clean and devoid of cracks or wear, the stone shined with a lovely polish at every glance. All around, tapestries depicting Dalmasca’s history and culture hung, as did the royal seal of House Dalmasca.

The only things that might have seemed out of place with the impeccably maintained luxury around every corner was the intrusion of sand and the presence of tiny lizards. Glistening, crystalline sand grains collected in corners and against walls, and this did not seem to bother anyone. In fact, it seemed almost welcomed and aesthetically acceptable for this to occur, judging by the fact that no one anywhere was in the process of sweeping it away. And the diminutive lizards, not unlike those of the anoles of Terra, were everywhere. On the walls, the ceilings, even clinging to the tapestries. And this, too, seemed normal, for the various guardsmen walking about within the palace took no notice of them beyond avoiding stepping directly on them.

Basch led the Guardians from the dock into one of the towers and down into the palace proper, taking them through large, opulent hallways lined with guards and servants alike. The palace was a bright and bustling place, filled with happy and proud energy, despite the hard times the population of Rabanastre found itself braving. All who worked there were proud to be there, loved their king and kingdom, and were proud to be Dalmasca. It was also clear that they had a great deal of respect for Basch as well, for many greeted him along the way. And whether it was another knight, a guard, or a lowly servant who greeted him, Basch returned the greeting with respect and kindness in like kind.

Soon, they arrived at a pair of immense, towering double doors flanked by guards more heavily armored than some others had been along the way. Basch paused before them, turning to the Guardians. “Please wait here a moment,” he asked of them as the doors were cranked open and he entered. The doors were closed behind him, and the Guardians found themselves waiting without, bounded by guards on all sides. This was only for a couple of minutes, and then the doors were cranked open fully and Basch bid the Guardians all enter. Once they had, the doors were cranked shut once more.

Upon a throne at the end of a long, torchlit, golden hall was an aging man with a kind face. Although old, he seemed alert and had a regal bearing about him.

“Your Majesty, I present to you Captain Star-Lord of Missouri in Terra, and his crew,” Basch said, nodding formally to the king before turning to the Guardians. “His Majesty King Raminas B’nargin Dalmasca,” he announced to them before stepping aside to allow the meeting to continue. He remained close by the throne, however.

{ I’m stopping here because I didn’t know if Quill or anyone else would speak up before the king did. And I also didn’t know if they would put up a stink about the weapons issue, so feel free to do whatever you wanted with that, heh. I will place a pic of Raminas below, though, so that you know what the Guardians are seeing when they meet him. He looks weary here because he just got some bad news, lol, but with them he’d look a bit more friendly. There just... aren’t too many pics of him because he died so early on in the game. }

[sleeperagentclone]

@figsandphiltatos Tagged me!

shuffle your on repeat playlist (on spotify) and list the first 10 songs and then tag 10 people

1. Roses are Falling by Orville Peck

OOOOH BOY. So like I have a very vivid imagination and a very good minds eye and for years I have been plagued with visions when listening to this song. *Exterior, wild west, sunset* A cowboy stands smoking a cigarette and watching the sunset, back to his companion who is rummaging through a saddle bag "I guess they say nobodies perfect" The second cowboy turns "But they've never" aims his revolver at the first cowboy "Met a devil" cocks the gun "like you" a single gunshot rings out across the prairie. Anyway I can't fucking draw so now I'm writing a book about outlaw lesbians in the wild west who have a totally normal and fun time and nothing bad happens to either of them, I promise

2. Miss Chatelaine - Iron Hoof Remix by k. d. land and Orville Peck

Imma be real with you, never heard this song before in my life, I have been shuffling Orville Pecks entire discography recently while working on aforementioned book and I've definitely fallen asleep to it, so I guess it played than. It's good, I like it

3. Brick By Boring Brick by Paramore

I am too shy to tag people in this but I will tag @ribbittrobbit because I've been listening to their Crisis of Faeth playlist and I doubt this will be the only song from it making an appearance. Absolute banger of a playlist, absolute banger of a song

4. Seven Nation Army By The White Stripes

What did I fucking say, another Crisis of Faeth song! Fucking love The White Stripes and this is undoubtedly a classic. Fun fact I was at the thrift store a couple of weeks ago and found a White Stripes funko pop set for probably at least half as much as it would be new

I normally think funko pops of just full on real people of a little odd but I had to fucking do it

Other fun fact, to me Gorgug is very Meg White coded, widely considered one of the greatest drummers of a generation but steps out of the limelight because performing just isn't for them

5. I Don't Care - single version by Fallout Boy

Say it with me now, Crisis of Faeth! Listen to it! I like never on purpose listen to Fallout Boy but I was a teenager in the 2010's so I do love Fallout Boy

6. Dead of Night by Orville Peck

I love Orville Peck, I have a pinterest board that's just outfit inspiration for if I ever get to go to one of his shows

7. Dancing on My Own by The Regrettes

Besides being another Crisis of Faeth song, all of The Regrettes song are so fucking Fig Faeth coded to me, like nearly a 4th of my Figayda playlist is The Regrettes because they just sound exactly like something Fig would write about Ayda

8. Satanist by boygenuis

Crisis of Faeth also finally forced me to listen to boygenuis, and I can almost listen to them without having an existential about Lucy Dacus now so 👍👍👍

9. Summertime by Orville Peck

It's extremely unfair that none of the other Orville Peck songs that remind me of my outlaw lesbians come up, like it's a great song, but, come on man

10*. Fences by Paramore

Fucking love Paramore dude, Haley Williams is truly one of the greatest vocalists of a fucking generation and they put on an incredible fucking show (The only thing that could ever get me to go to a music festival is Paramore, I would love to see them live but I know they tend to do some like flashing effects so a dark venue would not be ideal for my epileptic ass) (This is also a Crisis of Faeth song)

*I cheated on this one because the real 10th one was a song Orville Peck featured on that I just don't like very much so I skipped it

[dankusner]

Daniel Kusner visits Thanks-Giving Square at noon while listening to St. Vincent’s “ New York ,” admiring how perfectly the song blends with the bells above the Ring of Truth.

St. Vincent would rather be in Dallas

Annie Clark — a.k.a. singer-guitarist St. Vincent — has lived in L.A. and New York City for most of her adult life.

But she still loves to wax nostalgic about growing up as a music nerd in Lake Highlands, going to rock shows in Deep Ellum and haunting records stores all around Dallas.

“I spent all my allowance at CD World on Greenville, that’s for sure,” she says with a laugh. “I’m in Los Angeles right now, but I wish I were in Dallas is the truth of it.”

Clark’s been coast-hopping lately while “doing press for this bad boy,” as she calls All Born Screaming, her seventh solo album since she debuted in 2007.

The album is out Friday.

One listen and you’ll hear why she yearns for the comfort of her extended Dallas family.

All Born Screaming is the sound of an artist teetering on the edge of chaos as she thinks about life, death and a dozen shades of terror in between.

In Clark’s typically witty fashion, she’s dubbed it “post-plague pop.”

It’s her darkest album yet, but also one of her best, defined as always by her uniquely St. Vincent blend of styles.

She’s an old-school torch singer with an avant-garde heart and a music historian’s brain, inspired by everyone from Billie Holiday to Jimi Hendrix to Nirvana (whose drummer, Dave Grohl, guest-stars on “Broken Man” and “Flea”).

"All Born Screaming" is St. Vincent's darkest album yet, but it also ranks as one of her best, defined by a unique blend of styles.(Nasty Little Man)

Clearly, she didn’t spend all that time at CD World just sifting through the Backstreet Boys bin.

When Clark was 13, the jazz duo Tuck & Patti, who happen to be her uncle and aunt, sat her down and asked her to listen to John Coltrane’s masterpiece A Love Supreme.

“I started crying,” she told me in ‘07. “Hearing something like that, at that age, was mind-blowing.”

Today, her jazz-minded songs are probably too off-kilter for most Taylor Swift fans.

But against all odds, Clark racked up her first No. 1 pop hit as a songwriter last fall when Swift’s “Cruel Summer” spent a month atop the Billboard charts, four years after Swift first released it.

Clark co-wrote the tune with Swift and their mutual producer Jack Antonoff.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Clark, 41, says. “It’s a testament to how dedicated Taylor’s fans are. They took a song from a few records back that wasn’t even a single at the time and said ‘No, we love this song. This is the hit.’ And they marched it up the charts by just sheer enthusiasm.”

My conversation with Clark has been edited for clarity:

All your albums have been different, both musically and lyrically. What were you aiming for on All Born Screaming?

I wanted to make something that felt as raw and human as possible. It’s a record that goes from “Life is impossible … ” and then the second half is “but we get to live it and it’s really short, so buckle up and let’s go. We don’t have any time to waste.”

This is the first album you’ve produced totally alone. What were the pros and cons of that?

The pros are that it’s really an exact rendering of the sounds in my head. This is my singular vision. The cons are that it takes a lot longer. It’s a more painful process because it requires a long look in the mirror, which is not always the most comfortable thing to do. There’s nobody else in the room who’s gonna pat you on the head and say, “Great job, let’s move on.” It requires a reckoning with yourself.

There are lots of great retro-sounding synthesizers on the album, played by you and others. What drew you to these old synths?

Analog synthesizers have such a soul to them. You’re moving electricity through unique circuitry, and I know that doesn’t sound necessarily like the sexiest, most human thing, but you’re like a god of lightning. These analog synths are inherently chaotic. It’s like, “I’m gonna take these beasts and find the parts that are the most alive, and manipulate some of that chaos into music.” When you get something that’s really exciting, it’s more of a victory.

Several tunes have an industrial rock feel and recall Nine Inch Nails. I noticed the word “nail” in the lyrics of multiple songs. Have I found your Easter eggs? Or am I reading too much into that?

No! Read however you want to read it. I love Nine Inch Nails. You can put The Downward Spiral next to anything out there today and it will hold up as relevant and exciting. That’s the kind of record I’m ultimately trying to make, stuff you’ll wanna listen to in 30 years and go, “Oh yeah … this is good. It has a level of excellence and craft and refinement and obsessive attention to detail.”

“Violent Times” has a memorable phrase that, in a sense, sums up the whole album for me: “The ashes of Pompeii lovers, discovered in an embrace for all eternity.” When did you first see that image from Pompeii?

I was in New Zealand and had a day off and that exhibit was going around, so I walked over to the exhibit and was just struck by that image.

“OK, doom is imminent. You can flee, or you can just hold one another one last time.”

And I just thought it was so deeply romantic.

So much of modern existence, and certainly existence on the internet, is designed to commodify our brain space and pit neighbor against neighbor, and it’s just, well, frankly, it’s a drag.

Love is all we have, and I don’t mean that in a “Kumbaya” corny way. I mean, life will bring you to your knees, no matter who you are. And the only thing we really have is the people we love.

A lot of songs on the new album — and throughout your career — have a scary, almost cinematic quality to them. Did you grow up loving horror films or scary books?

No. Not at all. I detest horror and violence and gore. I can’t watch it. But as far as going to musically dark places, I think that’s the miraculous thing about music. To misquote Brian Eno, “Art is the car you can crash over and over again and then walk away safely.” [Music] is the place I get to go to explore my internal violence and my everything — ego, desire, all of it. I’m a child of the ‘90s, in the sense that the anthems of my heroes were “I’m a creep/I’m a loser.” They were exploring the baseness and basement of their psyches, and that’s always resonated with me.

“Big Time Nothing” sounds like a companion piece to 2020′s The Nowhere Inn, your mockumentary-thriller about fame and how it affects an artist’s sanity.

[Songwriting for me] is always like, “OK, tune into the depression and anxiety frequencies in your head, write down those thoughts, and what do they tell you?” I’ve had to learn how to manage and quiet [those frequencies] as I’ve grown. All the songs on this album are very lived experiences, dealing with life and death and love. In records past, I certainly was dealing with the idea of persona and deconstructing persona. And you know, that makes a lot of sense in that I’m queer. I’ve been aware that gender was a performance since I was a child. So of course, playing with characters is … it’s all just, you know, ripe for exploration. On this record, however, I’m just not dealing with character or transformation in the same way. I’ve heard people say, “OK, so Broken Man is your take on toxic masculinity.” I’m like, “No. That’s just how I feel.” Sometimes, it’s not external cultural commentary. It’s, like, life.

Congratulations on your first number one single for co-writing Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer.” Hypothetically, how would you handle performing for 60,000 people in football stadiums every night like Swift does?

My brain immediately went to “Oh. I’d really need to spend a lot of money on production.” But that’s the very pragmatic part of me. Um, that would be amazing. I don’t see that necessarily happening and I feel really OK with that. I like to say I have the “free appetizer level” of fame, you know, where occasionally you [meet a restaurant worker] who’s a big fan and you get that shrimp cocktail. But I don’t have an unmanageable level of fame. I can walk down the street anywhere and be fine and not need security. I can just exist in the world in a relatively normal way. The way I got to my level of success was a sort of slow and steady climb up the mountain, without big peaks and valleys.

When we spoke at the start of your career, you said that joining the Polyphonic Spree after struggling to launch your career was “literally redemption in a robe.” What did you learn in your two years with the Spree in the mid-2000s?

I loved it. I had the time of my life. Some of my fondest memories of touring were those early, early days of just not knowing what in the world I was doing, getting up on stage every night and putting on this wild manic show with these exuberant songs. I [learned how to be] a Texas freak, right? And I say “freak” with all the love and admiration in the world. If you’re a Texas freak, you had to earn it. You had to walk through fire. There’s some real grit to the Texas freaks. Like, those are my people, you know?

A few years ago, the news site Central Track posted a bunch of yearbook photos of you from Lake Highlands High School, where you were super active in performing groups. Did you already know back then you wanted a career onstage?

I was very obsessed with theater. I’d go see a lot of local productions at Kitchen Dog Theater and I was a stage manager over at Kitchen Dog. I loved it, but I was really scared to get up onstage with my high school band, or be in a play. But I also knew I had to do it. Even though that performative tension was very, very nerve-wracking, I was compelled to do it. Dallas public education really just lit a fire and a love for theater, you know?

You’ve acted in Portlandia and other places, and you co-wrote The Nowhere Inn. Would you like to do more acting and filmmaking?

I would drop everything if a director I really adored, like Pedro Almodovar, said, “I’m dying to have you in my next film.” I would happily act or be a performer in someone else’s work, depending on the project, because you go in, you do your work and you walk away. A director of a film, like, that’s three years of your life on one thing. I just don’t have the bandwidth to direct a film. But what I do as a musician, for this record, let’s just say, is akin to writing, starring in and directing your own film. Directing? I already do that in music. Directing a film would take me away from things I’m actually good at.

You started playing guitar at 12, before the internet became huge. Do you think the internet and YouTube opened the doors for more diversity among guitarists? Are there more female lead guitarists today than when you began?

There totally are. I see so many young women playing guitar and it’s not treated as some sort of novelty. It’s like, “Yeah, duh! Of course I play guitar.” It’s so cool to see the shift. I mean, I had Riot Grrrl. But for the most part, there weren’t that many female guitar players in the mass culture.

I’m a measured optimist. I don’t believe that everything is getting worse. Certain things in life are definitely worse than they were a hundred years ago, and a lot of things are a whole lot better. We wouldn’t be having this conversation 80 years ago about me having a career as an artist like this. Women didn’t get to do things like this. So I think it’s only getting better in terms of more women playing, more women just feeling empowered and saying, “I’m gonna pick up whatever [instrument] I want to and play.” There’s way less stigma and eyebrow-raising than there was when I started, you know? That’s great. I think that is genuine progress.

[snapshotofthesun]

nineteen life lessons (from nineteen years of living).

1. lie in the sun whenever possible. there are few problems on earth that cannot be solved by a nap on the grass. shut your eyes and tilt your eyelids towards the light; preferably with a swaying branch above you so you can watch patterns of orange and black swirl around your vision.

2. live life with a sense of passionate deliberation. the world is a sampling platter of delights and you are a gleeful hedonist. say yes to something new every day: the event an acquaintance on your socials has been begging for someone to go with; the patterned shirt at the back of your wardrobe you’ll only wear when you stand in front of the mirror in your room and pretend you run a fashion blog; the strange, unearthly desire to walk through silent suburban streets in the early hours of the morning, listening to the faint rhythm of waves crashing on cliffs below. collect experiences like you are a child with a magnifying glass and a school project due next week.

3. every three months, change the way you make your eggs in the morning.

4. at least once in your life you must line up for ten hours in the burning australian summer sun outside a concert venue until you are so deluded and sweaty and sunburnt that the barrier feels like a lifeline. bonus points if the artist plays a teenage anthem and you can feel the way your ears rung when you blasted the song every morning on the bus to school at the highest volume your cheap apple earbuds can manage, pulling the cord tight against your phone because if you don’t the left ear is imbalanced. extra bonus points if you’re fifteen years old and you’ve come straight from your last day of term and the lead singer kneels down in front of you and grabs your hand and sings a verse of the song to you. you will spend your entire life chasing the feeling of peace that moment held. but it is endlessly worth it.

5. love is exponential; stop caging it within your heart. fling it like rice on a wedding day. nail it to your bedroom wall in an ornate frame. swim in it. scatter it. cultivate it. love openly and wholly and endlessly and messily, and do not fear the feeling of unreciprocated affection because nobody is ever better off in cold, bitter apathy. tell your friends and your mother and your cat and your local barista that knows how to make your skinny cap just right that you love them, that you’re glad they’re alive and your life is better with them in it.

6. you will find more comfort laying in the lap of an ikea bear than you will in the bed of a man who doesn’t care about you.

7. cringing at your past selves is a sign of growth. weird kids become cool adults. the version of yourself (myself) that shows off her collection of thrifted leather jackets is the direct product of the version of yourself (myself) that wore knee high peace sign socks and bright blue converse to the year seven school disco. one does not exist without the other.

8. you are not special enough for everyone to remember the silly little embarrassing things you have done.

9. if it’s a warm summer day and you can go to the beach, go to the beach.

10. there is nothing more pointless than something created to gather dust. light the candles. read the books. paint with the watercolours your aunt gave you when you were nine years old. ride the skateboard down the nearest flat-ish street. wear every item of clothing you own. fill empty notebooks with doodles. scribble with markers until they run out of ink. mix the bottle of expensive champagne with cheap orange juice and drink mimosas in a park. tell yourself every day that ownership is lucky and overconsumption is a plague and fall deeply in love with what you have.

11. there is no objective truth except for your own. and everybody else’s. and the laws of nature. and heaven and god and the american dream and…and…and…i guess there is no real truth.

12. if you get home from uni classes at 4pm and you have plans to go out at seven, do not get into bed. i don’t care how much your feet hurt from breaking in your docs, or how pretty the sunset view is from out your window, or how perfectly you’ve timed it to watch the hundred-minute flick on your letterboxd watchlist, eat dinner and pick out a fit before the bus comes. it is a trap and your introvert side will come out and you will not leave!!!

13. when you’re in a bad mood, find a youtube clip of the ferris bueller’s day off museum scene and watch it on repeat until you start to feel something. note down in your journal that you must visit the art institute of chicago at least once before you die. spend an hour realising you have an american passport, browsing chicago apartments on zillow and imagining your future as a cool tattooed filmmaker slash writer slash journalist in the industrial loft you found that you could never afford. rinse and repeat with san francisco, new york and seattle.

14. if the bad mood is especially pervasive, buy three lollipops from woolworths (lemonade, watermelon and cola). wait until evening, lie in bed wrapped in blankets, watch donnie darko by the light of your salt lamp and cry until you think you might puke. drink a glass of water and go to bed. in the morning you will be at least seventy percent better.

15. strike a firm balance between creation and consumption. consume to create and create to consume. stake facets of your identity on the fact that you are a quote unquote creative, and use that pressure to drive you into filling up journals with pointless thoughts, then reading them over and over until the words are meaningless.

16. never be afraid to do something alone.

17. realise that you are always a little bit freer than you think you are. and there is always a little bit more chaos in the world than you think there is. get a meaningless tattoo (and take care of it as it heals).

18. stop trying to control everything all the time!!!

19. every morning, when you wake up, tell yourself that you have died and clawed your way back from the afterlife, begged and pleaded whatever cosmic entity controls it all to let you live one more day. just one more. you have twenty-four hours left on this earth and instead of letting it fill you with dread, you will embrace every vivid sensation living has to offer with the awestruck wonder of somebody that has known how cold it is to die. start your day with the beautiful, existential realisation that it is a gift to be alive in a world where the sky and the trees and the paint on people’s front doors are bold explosions of colour, where music comes from metal strings and the feeling of someone’s arms around you is all you need for complete happiness. to be alive is a gift. to know yourself is a gift. i love you. i love you. i love you. rinse and repeat.

[seelie-scribbles]

hii! your blog looks lovely and i can't wait to read your works!💮 can you write some cuddling/sleeping headcanons for childe, dainsleif, kaeya, kazuha and scaramouche with a fem!s/o, please?🌸

Cuddling Headcanons

Hi! I had some stuff going on, so I'm sorry I didn't get to writing this right away, but thank you so much for requesting!! I had so much fun with this, and I hope you enjoy it!!

𓇽 Childe 𓇽

✧ An absolute menace

✧ As soon as it’s time for bed, you better get your ass to bed

✧ I feel like he’d be really adamant about sticking to a bedtime?

✧ Like, as soon as the clock hits 10:00 it is lights out

✧ If you tried to keep writing, he would absolutely pick you up and carry you to the bed

✧ I could see him really loving the whole “rest your head on my chest” position

✧ It’d make it really easy to kiss the top of your head, which he does as much as he can

✧ Even if you’re taller than him, he loves when you just curl up into his side and sleepily kiss him good night

✧ Trust me when I say, he will m e l t if you’re clingy

✧ Overall, probably the cuddliest on here, especially since he is always down for snuggles

✧ Literally

✧ Anytime

✧ Anywhere

☽ Dainsleif ☾

✧ I think it’s safe to say that Dainsleif has very little dating experience

✧ Hell, he’s been alive for over 500 years, and I'm willing to bet most of that was spent alone

✧ So he’s probably very, very touch-starved

✧ I think it would take him awhile to warm up to physical touch, but once he does HOO BOY

✧ He’s definitely the kind of guy to wrap himself around you in his sleep, but no matter how many times it happens, he still wakes up so flustered and embarrassed

✧ Somehow, his face ends up squished into your chest

✧ Every

✧ Single

✧ Time

✧ Dainsleif is a boobs-man, and that also applies in a non-sexual way

✧ He just feels so safe and secure sleeping there, he can't help it

✧ I get the feeling that he has a lot of trauma that keeps him from sleeping, but the one thing that helps is your voice and your boobs

✧ He prefers when you sing, no matter how good you are, but if that makes you uncomfortable, he’ll gladly listen to you read a book, or simply tell him about your day

✧ Childe would definitely beg for cuddles, but Dainsleif is more reserved, so if you want snuggles, ask for them

✧ There is a 100% chance he wants to cuddle, too

✧ He’s just a little shy

❄ Kaeya ❄

✧ Big spoon big spoon big spoon big spoon big

✧ A cuddler from birth

✧ This man was born to cuddle

✧ Despite his cryo vision, Kaeya is constantly warm

✧ So in the winter?

✧ He’ll be your best friend

✧ I feel like his favorite way to cuddle is when he’s sitting, and you kinda just. Curl up in his lap?

✧ It makes his heart swell, knowing that you trust him enough to keep you safe while you’re asleep

✧ Would absolutely hold you on his lap during his meetings with the Knights of Favonius

✧ The only time he ever takes his gloves off is when you guys are cuddling, and he’s running his fingers through your hair, or along your back and arms

❀ Kazuha ❀

✧ A very sweet cuddler

✧ DEFINITELY a spooner

✧ I feel like he fluctuates between big spoon and little spoon

✧ Sometimes, he likes to nuzzle into your neck, and ‘protect’ you

✧ Other times, he just needs to be held

✧ I have a bit of a headcanon that Kazuha snores

✧ Not all the time. Not too loudly either.

✧ Just a little snort from time to time

✧ And I know it would be the CUTEST SHIT

✧ It is a fact in my mind that Kazuha can sing, so he’d sing you songs that he heard while in Inazuma

✧ The only light sleeper on this list

✧ So if you’re having a nightmare?

✧ No worries!

✧ Kazuha is there with a glass of water and a warm towel

✧ 10/10 would wife up in a heartbeat

⚔ Scaramouche ⚔

✧ Tells his underlings he doesn’t have time to do “worthless” things, such as “cuddle” and “date idiots”

✧ If you found out he said that though?

✧ He’d be 50% “Babe I would never,” and 50% “Damn straight, bitch"

✧ NOT open about being in a relationship

✧ Which translates into sleeping habits

✧ If you guys are at home, he’s all for it

✧ But if you’re part of the Fatui, and you’re on an overnight mission?

✧ He’ll avoid you like the plague

✧ Gotta keep up appearances, right?

✧ Honestly though, getting him to cuddle requires EFFORT

✧ I’d like to imagine that Scaramouche gets cold really easily, so the easiest way to get him to cuddle?

✧ Turn down the thermostat by a few degrees

✧ You’ll be feeling his gremlin toes pressed against your calves within minutes

✧ Won’t really cuddle, per say, but loves to intertwine his legs with yours he's honestly so cute pls

✧ A snorer

✧ A loud snorer

✧ He may be one of my favorites, but I said what I said

✧ Very easy to wake up, though, so if it’s bothering you that much, just give him a shake, and he’ll be up in seconds

✧ REFUSES to admit he snores, so whatever you do, do NOT tell the other Harbingers, unless you want him to suffer for the rest of eternity