#we had the night we met

[azures-grace]

They played Meet Me In The Woods first and I actually just started ugly crying

[chloesimaginationthings]

Abby went into the pit and made a FNAF friend..

[unshallow-feelings]

You're as beautiful as the day I lost you

[dead-enby-detective]

I wonder how much this scene plays a role in Monty choosing to target Edwin over Charles after Esther sends him to befriend the boys and then later how it impacts him falling for Edwin.

Edwin is the first one to enter so he’s the first one Monty sees.

Monty doesn’t crow when Edwin enters the house but waits until Charles enters. Does he already like Edwin better? Did he see Edwin and see something special?

Charles immediately responds to the crowing by telling him to hush. Did Charles’s words stick with him after Esther gave him a human body and mind and feelings? Were his feelings hurt or was he just annoyed by it?

Edwin pulls his gloves off as he passes Monty’s cage, does he think about that after becoming human? The way Edwin takes off a piece of his armor right before going into danger?

After Edwin tell his partner he believes in Charles’s ability to open the lock, Monty crows, and Charles sasses back. Edwin pays him no mind. Does that frustrate him, later when he’s human?

After Charles opens the lock, Edwin is the one who figures out that cabinet is a trick door.

I may not like Esther but she is clever. Was Monty learning from her the entire time he was her familiar? Does he take after her in that way? Always learning, always being wanting to be clever?

Monty, is shown soon after becoming human, to have a vast knowledge of zodiac signs. Did he learn all that in that short time span or was some of it things he’s taken in from Esther over the years? How much had he learned from her, from her spells, her books over the years?

Was he “raised” to appreciate cleverness even as a crow? Did he admire Edwin’s cleverness from the beginning?

Did he become human and immediately think back to when they first entered the house and wonder if Edwin would appreciate cleverness in return? Would appreciate the opportunity to learn something new from him? Hoped that they could be clever together?

There’s just so much to this scene from Monty’s perspective that I think we should consider.

Did he ever wonder if he was clever enough, would it be enough for Edwin to give him a chance?

Like he said, he never asked to be human… did he hope that, when the time came, with all his cleverness, that Edwin would understand that?

That he had never really had a chance in the first place?

[valtsv]

my dreams need to stop giving me fucked up ethical dilemmas i'm sorry but i don't think like that. if you put me in a survival situation i will simply do whatever i want.

[everytaylorswiftsongisaboutcats]

[icantalk710]

Very glad my team gets the option to work from home for quarter-end week 😌☕🥐

[roots-symphony]

I had all and then most of you some and now none of you t a k e m e b a c k t o t h e n i g h t w e m e t

[arospecsyourblockdudes]

Slay The Princess is really fun when you view it from the angle of being boyfriend and girlfriend

[fifien99]

[beebundt]

i love making new college friends but by god does it seem to always be a gamble if they're secretly racist, sexist, or homophobic when you're living in the south

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

It's interesting how the themes of love and duty are presented in the histories of two characters who couldn't be more different from one another: the last hero and the Night's King. When presented with the choice of doing your duty or loving, the answer seems obvious—do our duty to the end, for it seems like the right thing to do. Maybe you'll even be rewarded for it. But then the last hero and the Night's King present a grey area. The Night's King followed his desire and the result was a tarnished reputation and his name being blotted out of history for all eternity. He was punished for it. So you'd think that the last hero, having done the opposite and followed his duty to the end, would fare better. But his name has been blotted out of history as well! He picked the "right" thing, but his reward is uncertain; almost nonexistent. No matter what you do, you lose—well, you lose if your name means something to you. The resulting dichotomy then is fascinating—the Night's King actually feels human where the last hero does not. He loved and he lost, but as old Maester Aemon said, the gods fashioned man to love, and love is sometimes the bane of honor (Ned Stark could tell you as much). Old Nan can speculate on who the Night's King was, but she doesn't even bother to try and name the last hero. Almost like he did his duty and was forgotten as was expected; as he should have been. And that's a sad state of affairs. Dehumanization vs a tarnished reputation.....I don't really know if the choice is all that clear tbh :/

[becca-e-barnes]

Hi Becca! I would literally die for you blog. It’s my go to any time I need some good self care😉. You’re incredibly talented!

But I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head. It boils down to just Bucky and cock warming. Like the reader is on him begging for more but he is just having way to much fun playing with their clit to start moving. Making them cum on him with out thrusting once.

Just an idea I thought you might like. I love you work, have a great day!!

I'm really glad you've been enjoying my stuff so much!! That's so sweet!💗 and I keep getting told I can get ✨filthier✨ so I'd love to mess with this is little bit

Because I love the thought of Bucky making you start off with a dildo that's just a little bit smaller in size than he is. Maybe one of those dildos with a suction cup on the bottom so it's stuck on a wooden chair.

"Good girl, take it all." He encourages, kneeling between your legs, watching your cunt greedily swallow the toy. It's a sight he doesn't often get to see and he's really not sure why he doesn't make a point of watching it more often.

You whine quietly, feeling the toy bottom out. Your ass makes contact with the cool, varnished wood beneath you and you can't help but roll your hips a little, enjoying the feeling of the tip rubbing against your velvety walls.

"If I wanted you to fuck yourself on that, I'd tell you to. Did I tell you to?" Bucky's voice has a sharp edge that almost knocks you out of your daze.

"N-no... But-" You begin, trying to justify your movement but he cuts you off.

"No. So don't. I want you to keep your cunt stuffed and take what I give you." He watches up at you as he presses your knees apart, keeping his eyes on your face until he can't bare it anymore.

You gasp quietly at the feeling of his hot breath on your exposed, slick sex and there's nothing you can do but whimper at the feeling of his tongue gently grazing your clit.

Fuck, it's good. It's not long before he's licking you like he's starving, lapping and sucking gently on your clit before forcing your legs wider apart to lick your arousal from the base of the toy.

"Bucky, please. Please let me move." You didn't mean to sound so pathetic but with each lick, you get closer and closer to an orgasm you won't be able to stop. An orgasm you've been warned you're not allowed to have.

You're almost surprised he takes pity on you, giving you permission to get off the toy. He removes it from the chair and sits down in it's place, offering his cock as a replacement.

You sit back down as you had earlier with your back to his chest but you can't help but feel amazed at how much better his dick feels. He's slightly bigger and while that's nice, nothing beats the way he throbs inside you and the hot, breathy groans against your ear at the feeling of your body taking all of him.

"Such a good girl." He smirks against your neck, littering your skin with kisses between his soft praises. You feel one of his hands on your chin, gently directing you to look to your right, over in the direction of the full length mirror.

The reflection you're looking at makes your walls flutter involuntarily because fuck, you really are stuffed full of his cock and he's making sure you're not able to fully enjoy it yet.

With one hand still holding your head in place, making sure you keep watching, Bucky's free hand trails down between your legs, flicking and rubbing your clit again.

"Oh f-fuck." You whine, watching Bucky's smirk widen. You can't sit still. You just can't. You want to grind your hips and take what you need and in that moment, his pleasure and all the instructions he's given you come second. You need to get off, consequences be damned.

"Don't even fucking think about it." He warns, delivering one harsh slap to your clit. It's not overly hard but it's enough to shock you. "You know you're not allowed to cum. I want to feel this pretty pussy dripping first. Don't worry though. Once you're wet and messy enough, I'll fuck you stupid on the carpet, right in front of the mirror. Want you to watch yourself cum so hard you forget your own name."

[doll-elvis]

I’m just having one of those days…

(crying over a man I never met because I miss him)

[sulliedsorrow]

every year on his birthday dazai sends him a wine bottle full of grape juice. he changes the labels and puts it somewhere where chuuya would see it immediately. attached is always some generic happy birthday card. chuuya drank it without thinking the first time and immediately spat it out because, surprise surprise, grape juice tastes like absolute shit. he immediately found dazai and poured the rest of it over his head. before his next birthday he changes his locks, but there it is on the 29th of april, nestled in a decorative basket full of fake flowers. he doesn’t bother the third year.

two minutes past midnight on the day of his 19th birthday, his doorbell rings. on the welcome mat is a familiar basket, and that godforsaken bottle of juice.

chuuya throws it at the wall and is silent as it shatters. he watches the purple seep into the wallpaper, the liquid dripping into the carpet. it’s weeks before the smell dissipates.

on his 20th he's almost expecting it. two minutes past midnight, a bell ringing, a bottle on his mat. he puts it in the fridge and doesn't touch it for months.

for his 21st he's prepared. he hides at the end of the hallway by the corner, watching and waiting. midnight comes. two minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen. at half past he gives up and enters his apartment again, only to find the basket sitting innocently on his couch.

his legs shake as he walks to it, and he startles when he sees a nondescript white card tied to the neck of the bottle. on it is written "always so predictable chuuya" with a crude smiley face drawn beneath the text.

chuuya breathes in deeply. he wants to scream, wants to break something, wants to smash the bottle and every bottle in his cellar and rip off the arms of his couch and tear down the plaster in his wall and shake dazai and ask him why.

instead, he goes to the fridge, and places the bottle next to the first. he doesn’t leave his apartment that day.

[acertainperson]

Oh also I drew Brahms.

And some Lenzshire

i got lazy.