#SO LET ME BEEEEEEEEE

[windydrawallday]

A VIEW TO KILL

Face to face in secret places feel the chill Nightfall covers me but you know the plans I'm making

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

How Rangi and Kyoshi became friends (HiimdaysxP4 edition)

Note: Rangi is on a box. :)

[2-kamikou-1]

i wish there was a way to differentiate saying "I can't draw" to mean "I don't like my art" and saying it to mean "no, like, I literally can't, for my health"

[famousblueraincoatmp3]

its 10 am and im listening to various postions. i havent even tried enjoying my day

[leynaeithnea]

Hi :)

here is a lil ask to use whenever you're ready to go insane about love in paradise ( go nuts with your analysis!!! Make it a thousand pages essay!!! Or half a sentence, anything you want love<3 )

YeS YES YES YES THANK YOU AAAH here you go seven pages/3600 words essay :>

TW, for SA/Sxcide mention/discussion, you know the deal with the song

29. Love In Paradise

THE DIVE INTO THE SOUND SCAPE WITH THE CHOIR, the melody, and the clicking clock??? SO GOOD

“Old friend” FRIEND Aaaah U FINIALLY ADMIT IT

“It′s been 10 years since I last saw you” YOU DIDNT CHECK ON HIM IN 10 YEARS GIRL

“Remember me, I am the infamous, Odysseus!, Oh, woah-oh, woah-oh” This was the last time she saw him, its been 10 years, she quick minded him right after that, and HASNT SEEN HIM SINCE--- i love how it is sped up and you can visualize her literally diving through his memories in a timelapse

“Let’s see where you′ve been” FINIALLY, but also thE VOCAL PERFORMANCE (this is me like 90% of this saga, im obssessed)

I LOVE the soundscape of the flashbacks, the way that sounds with a mild echo like in big room? just...in his mind?? IDK how to call it but ITS SO GOOD

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” - the first thing that went wrong “Ruthlessness is mercy upon oursel-” BIG THING THAT WENT WRONG

“One wrong move and you’re done for

Anything I-” close call

“Song of past romance I see the” smart way to recall the underworld saga AND bring up the sirens, followed by

“We won’t take more suffering from you”, the way that ody embraced his monster

“Drown in your sorrow and fears” -that didnt go well very long, also, timelaps is slowing down, we’re getting closer to the events that answer where he spent the last years

“Captain? - I have to see her - But we′ll die -I know”, the last moments before he disappeared, making him suffer terribly again at the hands of her father >:)

“Odysseus... where did you go?” she sounds so worrieddddd, her voice tho, pls mother dearest

THE MUSIC, is so coool the island vibes? the dodo do do dodo, the birds and the shore and the....instrument whos name i forgot the tip-tap thing is soo comfy vibesssss, beach island holiday vibes!!

“Morning, sleepyhead, You′ve been resting for a while, I swore that you were dead when you washed up on my isle”.......i need...visuals......i need the most angsty visuals i can get of this, please, i need to see him wash up, more dead then alive and then unconscious for who knows how long, with his stab wound, the concussion from Eurys punch, whatever wounds he got from the lighting hitting his ship AND almost drowning, getting taking care of by her until he wakes up again...

“Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me though, who’s Penelope?” ........is she hoping that he’ll say his sister or was she just trying to make small talk?

“She′s my wife”, he sounds so tired/distanced from the situation, her reminding him instantly of the one thing he’s holding on to, maybe remembering what just happened, he needs to go back...

HER SILENCE AFTER THAT IS SO TELLINGS SEGGSEIGS THE ANIMATIC WAS HILARIOUS, i love gigi

and then the “anyways!” WHAT DO YOU MEAN “ANYWAYS” SHE IS HIS LOVE HIS LIGHT HIS REASON YOU DONT ANYWAYS PENELOPE ahem, im vibing so hard to this tho

“I’ve got all you could want here, all you could need here” sounds nice, i would 100% fall under her spell, her voice is beatiful

“Just you and me, my dear, my love for life” uh oh where is this going, huh?? huh???? >:) Ma’am, this is not yours

“Soon, into bed we′ll climb and spend our time” DONT U FUCKING DARE TOUCH HIM HES BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH HES THE ONLY FAITHFUL MAN IN ANCIENT GREECE LET HIM BEEEEEEEEE

“I’m not your man-” THE JUST A MAN REPHRASING? EXCUSE ME???? this is going so differently compared to Circes there are other ways, he has no interest in her, all he wants is to go back home, hes sacrificed the rest of his crew for that, he. needs. to go. home. (the delivery tho omg so good)

“I′m what you want here, I’m what you need here, Just you and me, my love in paradise, Now ‘til the end of time” he does not need you, he does not want you, this is not paradise for him, get the fuq away from my baby girl odysseus, i know youre lonely on your little island, i know zeus did you wrong, BUT THAT DOES NOT GIVE YOU ANY RIGHT TO TAKE CLAIM TO ODYSSEUS; HE IS NOT YOUR MAN

“From here on out, you′re mine, all mine” possissive much, fuck off >:) also thats what he greets him with? thats....not...no. he’s been through so much, he fought in a war he never wanted to go to for ten years, he used a wooden horse to finially end the war because he just needed to go back home, he had to kill a child to choose his family, they were safe on their way home when his best friend got killed, then they almost made it home, but the bag was opened, most of his crew died, his men got turned into pigs and he got another round of the gods playing games with him (see: hermes telling Ody not to refuse circe in homers odyssey when she wants to take him to bed, so he doesnt, he cant refuse the demands of gods), once they finially leave their island with his men back as humans, they have to go through the underworld where EVERY loss he had (which are more than he knew) comes back to haunt him, he learns his family is in danger, theres blood in his palace, all his mercy is harming him, so he embraces the thing he never wanted to be - a monster - and when the sirens come, he kills them, but he has to go further than that, the only way to get home is to sacrifice six of his men, so he does, six more men to haunt his dreams, if thats the price he has to pay he will, but his men turn on him, his trusted brother in law, not only opened the windbag, now he also starts a mutiny, the men he tried to bring home so badly betray him, stab him, bind him to a statue and he can do nothing but watch as they kill the cattle, his doom is sealed, zeus shows up and tells him to either choose himself, or his crew, hes a broken man, how much more has he to go through before he can go home? but he has to home to his family, so he chooses, his last decision he has to make, and he sinks into the ocean, thinking maybe, he can finally close his eyes, he needs to go home but he is so tired of suffering he would welcome an end of it...but then he wakes up, on this peaceful island, with a woman next to him, who suddenly puts claim on him, she wants him IN HER BED??? He needs to go home. he’s alive, he survived zeus and poseidon and aelus and circe and the underoworld and the war and-...he became the monster, he knows what to do, just another face in his nightmares to get home

“Hell no, I could kill you where you stand” he just has to be the monster

“I′m no pet, I’m a married man” HE HAS TO HIGHLIGHT THAT HE IS MARRIED TO HER AH, the fact that he feels like she sees him as a pet? picked up like a stray dog and kept as a pet....he is not that, i also love his electric guitar is in the background together with the ticking clock of the time dive

“Oh handsome, you may try, But last I checked, goddesses can′t die” she doesnt feel threatened by him at all, because she is a goddess, how could a mortal man refuse her? he cant, even if he tries, he has no choice (but also, i hate jorge for dropping this line, just before godgames, ITS LEAVING US NOT KNOWIng WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED THERE)

THEN THE DROP IN THE MUSIC AH its becoming so imposing and threatening AND ITS SO COOL

“Goddess?” terrified, here they go again, another goddess, he is powerless against these forces, it cant be, he needs to get home, how can his luck be so bad?

“You’re adorable” SHE DOES SEE HIM LIKE A PET, HE CALLS HIM CUTE; HE DOESNT FEEL ANY THREAT FROM HIM; HES A GODDESS HES JUST A MAN AH

“Bow down now to the immortal Calypso” CALYPSO YOU BITCH LEAVE MY MAN ALONE; but liek The fuQing audacity? to ask him to bow down? you just told him hes the love of your life and now you ask him to bow down???? THE POWER IMBALANce is so stRONG IN THIS ONE I CANT EVEN

“Here to entertain” entertain who? mh?? YOURSELF? with your new “pet”? NO shut up

“But fear not, I bring no pain” Calpyso, come a bit closer so i can punch you, youre KEPEign him on YOUR ISLAND; THE LACK OF ACTion IS WHATS goNNA KILL HIM; NOT YOU HURTING HIM PHYSICALLY; YOU TORTURE HIM IN the WORST WAYS emotionALLY SO GET AWAYYYYYYYYYY FROM PENELOPES MAN

“Cause we′ve got, All we could want here, All we could need here”, the way she keeps approaching him, dancing around him and trying to get close, while he keeps backing away and trying to get away From her is killing me, they have everything they need to survive yes, which means he does not have to do any work, he has NOTHING to distract him from you, all he can do is do what you tell him to because youre a goddess and he’s at your mercy and SUFFER sitting with his own thoughts and all his regret and shame and pain and trauma and yearing to go back home

“Under my spell, we’re stuck in paradise” fuck you. this is not paradise, this is hell :) :) :) RELEASE HIM

“No one can come or go, my island stays unknown” this, might very well be the worst moment for Ody so far, after EVERYTHING he’s been through. He choose his crew to die, it was supposed to be the last decision, it was supposed to be the climatic event before the end, all the expectations and tensions that rose in him getting set so high but instead..... nothing happens, he gets stuck in “paradise”, no monsters to fight,its not violent, theres no external threads to his life, things should be good, and happy and peaceful. its anti-climatic, and stifling because he has no way to release all this tension, its just stagnation, and all this tension getting internalized, it might very well be worse than having something you can fight against, but Calypso is a goddess, he cant harm her, her spell keeps him stuck on the island, he is powerless. His goal, his reason, his hope impossibly out of reach, all in the hand of this goddess, who doesn’t take no as an answer

“no, no” i love how Jorge wrote another “suffering” thing again, where the last syllable of one speaker gets picked up by the other “unknown” “no” becoming “Unknowno,no” its SO GOOD, but also the implications???? the last time we had this a siren wanted to seduce him and lure him into the water, now its a goddess wanting to lure him into loving and staying with her, again, he tries to find excuses and fend her off, his argumentation is a lot weaker than with the sirens though, he doesnt have a way out, all he can do is refuse and pray she listens, also CALYPSO BITCH THERES NO CLEARER WAY HE COULDVE SAID “NO”; LEAVE HIM BE; HE SAID NO FUCKING ACCEPT THAT HE DOES NOT CONSENT

“I don′t belong here”, he doesnt, time passes, he has to tell himself that this isnt where he’s meant to be, he needs to go, he has to leave.

“There’s something wrong here”, how many times do you think he almost gave in? how many times do you think she was lured in by her spell only to shake the spell off again because he kept feeling that something was wrong, never really falling under her spell, never staying under it for long, because its wrong, this isnt where he needs to be, he needs to get home because his family is waiting at home, theyre in danger.

“I won’t be drawn to love in paradise, not ′til the end of time, there is no way” she just has nothing on penelope. and he will never be interested in calypso as seductive as she tries to be, circe failed, calyspo fails even worse (i love these vocal performances man, theyre SO GOOD)

“You′re mine, all mine” Annnnnd she doesnt take no as answer again, shes so possessive I HATE it, how she drowns out Odys “theres no way - youre mine, all mine” she drowns out and swallows up his voice, ignores him, his voice goes unheard...

and we go back to the clock ticking of the time dive of athena

“Seven years, she’s kept you trapped, out of your control, time can take a heavy toll” SEVEN. YEARS. sagnation for SEVEN YEARS. THIS IS TERRIBlE, Athena sounds so sad...and concerned, from what she’s seen, but just...imagine that, he fought in troy for 10 years, now odys been stuck on this island for almost just as long, and before that he had EVERYTHING ELSE happen to him, feeling powerless against outside forces for YEARS, it weights down in him, all he can do is internalize it, because there is no monster he can fight, but himself. and...we can hear the danger motif in the choir.....because...he’s become a danger to himself....

the soundscape shifts again, we go back into a memory, its raining and windy, at the beach

“Odysseus?”, she geninuely sounds concerened, what could make her concerned i wonder....

“All I hear are screams”,...he...he’s broken, a callback to the underworld, he sounds defeated, hopeless, dissociative

“Ody”...Ody......you dare call him ody? you may have known each other for seven years but you DID NOT treat him right, you have no RIGHT to call him that, the last person who called him Ody was Eurylochus before he signed their doom.

“Get away from the ledge”....hes.....on his last rope, its been seven years since he sacrificed his last crew, ten years since he lost polites, eight since he lost most of his crew, twenty years since he last saw his family, she wants to keep him at the island for eternity, he cant leave, theres no way out, so now he’s here, on the cliffs edge staring out into the deepths below, knowing that Poseidon is still out to get him, but behind him is a Goddess that made him suffer just as bad, if not worse, rly is there any way to escape?

“You don′t know what I’ve gone through, You don′t know what I’ve sacrificed, every comrade I long knew, every friend, I saw them die”, its been more than seven years, and they still haunt his every waking and sleeping hour. he sacrificed everything to get back home, and yet it was not enough, now hes stuck here, and all sacrfices were for nothing, and he has nothing to distract him, when the goddess doesnt want his attention, he just....sits at the beach replaying their deaths over and over in his mind. [One translation of the scenes in Homers Odyseey: She found him sitting on the shore, his eyes as ever wet with tears, life’s sweetness ebbing from him in longing for his home, since the Nymph no longer pleased him. He was forced to sleep with her in the hollow cave at night, as she wished though he did not, but by day he sat among rocks or sand, tormenting himself with tears, groans and anguish, gazing with wet eyes at the restless sea] just....for SEVEN years? good gods, homer really said “how much trauma can we fit into this one man”

“And all I hear are screams” .....and all he hears are their screams

“(It will be fine dear)”, it wont, fuck off, not as long as you keep him trapped

“Come back inside, dear” ..............i...come back inside? to do what? remind him that hes stuck with you? force him to-............my rage is endless.

“Love of my life, come back to paradise” HE DOESNT LOVE YOU; STOP CALLING HIM THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE, THIS IS STILL NOT PARADISE; DONT::::TRY TO ....BEWITCH HIM, YOU SELFISH BIch

“Let me close my eyes”, hes...so....sooo..so tired. he just wants to close his eyes..and..not open them anymore, doesnt he? He sang to the infant “to close your eyes to spare yourself the view”, he wants to do the same, hes so so tired.....

“I know your life′s been hard”, you have no idea

“I’ll stay inside your heart”,....did you just......did...you really just......use the words his mother said to him in the underworld? ...............

“All I hear are screams!” hes having flashbacks, the ghosts of his past keep haunting him, and shes making it so, so mcuh worse

“(I love you my dear) I love our time here

Life would be so much worse If you had died” YOUR LIFE, the worst part is, she doesnt say this because Ody deserves better, she says this because if he was gone, she would be alone again, and she just wants to have him, own him, have him be hers

“(Just let me close my eyes)”, she doesnt...let him close his eyes, he spents the nights in her bed against his will, and the days, crying at the beach, and when he sleeps he must be haunted by nightmares......theres no rest ever really.

“Please stay from away from harm, Stay in my open arms.......................she..just....made it so so much worse, ALSO JORGE; JORGE WHEN I CATCH YOU JORGE HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU SLAP OPEN ARMS AT US AGAIN WILL POLITES NEVER STOP HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE, Calyspo rly threw “Ody”, “stay inside your heart” and “open arms” at him consecutively, while he was already deep down the trenches.and now......

“(All I hear are-)” what he hears is....

“This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms, Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we′re leading from the heart, No matter the place, we can light up the world here′s how to start Greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open”

Polites, all his opens, and promises, and he cant live up to it, he tried, he tries so HARD to greet the world with open arms, but he cant, but ruthlessness did not help him either, he misses polites, he was the last person he had at sea who TRULY cared for him, hes having a flashback, PTSD so badly as he is standing at the edge of the cliff, i can just see him falling to his knees, crying and then...

“How much longer till your luck runs out? How much longer till the show goes south? How much longer till we all fall down?”, he hears eurys warning, how much longer till his liuck runs out? his luck has run out, for years now, and hes still stuck, everything has turned bad, the show went south, they all fell down and yet.....

“Waiting..waaiting” his mom....said shed stay inside his heart, he took too long, its been twenty years since he left home, how many other people are waiting for him while is stuck on the island? all these voices are just...inside his head all the time and cant shake them off.

“ooohooooh...ohhh” THE VOCAL PERFORMANCE JORGE- JORGE-... hes just screaming, trying to drown out the voices in his head as he’s breaking down....he wants to let go, he cant let go, he needs to get back home, his family is in danger, theres no one who could help him, the only one, who might have been able to do something, his ally, left him ten years ago, when he defied her, but she is a goddess, if she has any mercy left...maybe...jsut maybe...she could help him...but she wouldnt really listen to him would she? how often has he prayed to her in those years? or has he refused to call out for her in fear of facing more rejection? but...he cant do this any longer, this is ...the very last thing he can do....and so he calls out for her.

“Athena!”, praying that what has been broken can be amended. at least with her.

“He needs my help” and his cry gets heard......athena voice breaks, when she sees how far her friend has fallen.

.....and she decides to do something about it

Oh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, I was worried about this song, how Jorge would choose to tackle the whole situation with calypso, while sticking to his “sfw” rule, AND I DID NOT GET DISAPPOINTeD QUITe on the cONtrary IM OBSSESED WITH IT

also the way polites is in one ear, Eury in the other and his mother all around him? the two sides that Ody had back then, polites more positive, and eury as more devil and both are gone and then his mother is just ALL AROUND HIM

typing this up took a couple of days, but if you will excuse me, imma go cry in a corner now

[wordarttmn]

Omori observations 5

Pau

I kinda wish Berly was actually getting into battles with us, during the ball quest

it’s pretty weird how she just disappears while there

Artics

Still figuring out the controls (especially wrt follow-ups, the directions aren’t always intuitive)

Good thing i know where the ball is because not being able to explore would have been annoying

I really want to talk about the color palette. Everything that’s "ground" or "sand" or "wood" is heliotrope pink of all colors. And the green is light emerald. i’m using stabilo color names because those were the pens i had growing up, and from the moment i got my first box of pens at age 6, those two colors stood out to me. They looked a bit odd, like they didn’t belong. (as a result i used them a lot at the beginning, and had to replace these pens early) They were also rare colors at the time, i wouldn’t have had them in anything less than the 40-color box, and stabilo wasn’t using them for anything until at least 2017 and the pastel colors trend thingy.

Also i focus on that because that surprised me. I was trying to draw stuff from Omori and couldn’t find the right colors until i landed on these in march (the last ones i would have think of). Because i was interpreting the pink sand as "yellow" or at least orangeish, and the trees as a more natural green. Because real world experience of colors twists our brains like that.

In addition what also stands out is that headspace doesn’t use the color black at all. Lines and anything that should be black is either purple or dark blue. This is also something i did at 6 (partly because the black was on the pen box’s lower level and took more time to get to).

This makes Omori stand out a lot more of course.

Ortès

Berly re-merged into Omori. Will she let us explore at least?

I haven’t been to the left of the forest because of the berly quest.

This game does this thing where it introduces very early on mechanics you can’t use until much later, to encourage you to backtrack.

Berly won’t

I don’t really care to avoid enemies because i keep one-turning these bunnies.

Pujòu

i’ll check up on Berly later i have some exploring to do

Gonna pause the game soon though because i have to switch trains

Kinda poetically i’m pausing at the fictive train station and the real one at the same time.

Forest Chillin’. Our first upbeat remix of Trees… there will be a lot of these.

Will get up soon. Just… give me a bit.

Mood.

The neverending Es of Beeeeeeeee so you never know when to stop pressing and she starts speaking again.

All bees are female so i’m making the safe bet.

Somehow i still failed

Dacs

Spending my time talking to all of those npcs because this part of the game goes much faster when you know where you are going

Note to self: try to understand Darville’s backstory if it’s possible

Another thing i’ve seen already but won’t be able to access until much later.

I wonder what happens if you meet leafie while having killed 0 bunnies

This train is much wobblier than the previous one. I wonder if i really should be using my PC here. Though it’s heating much less at least.

Level 5 finally! Learnt Bread Slice.

Wise rock. Good thing i have clams.

Well about that -

Morcencs

Back at the foggy bridge. i’ll come home through the western path.

Find myself using pass to Hero way too often because it’s the best way to do a lot of damage before those enemies get the time to do anything

Heh

i’m starting to use stab and one shotting those lost sprout moles.

You get to read Omori’s opinion on every item..

AHA! Took me a while to find it.

When Omori is hurt everything gets a little deep fried

Time to learn how to headbutt! i’m surprised the next station is still so far away. I guess that’s the moors of Gascony for you

You got a BUTT CERTIFICATE and a CONCUSSION

17%. I’ve been playing for over two hours, and my pc risks shutting down before i reach Otherworld and/or Biganòs. I’ll continue tomorrow!

[maryholdenofthevalley]

Good Omens, Season 2, Episode 6 Reaction

(Contain Spoiler)

I did this reaction in a note, because I did not want to see spoiler on Discord. When we need context, I put [context] in the brackets.

1. Crowley fake angel hopping behind Muriel like a rabbit????? SO CUTE

2. WHY KILL ERIC SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭 LEAVE HIM BEEEEEEEEE

3. Michael: lets do this

Gabriel: nu-uh

4. Shax asked if Aziraphale is Crowley's emotional support angel and I can gladly answer her with all the watching-you-eat-cake and I-like-it-when-I-rescue-you thing

5. Crowley's little encouraging hand pump to Muriel. they are so cute together.

6. Aziraphale's little terrified "ahhh" when they throw the books at demons 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏

7. HIS HALO

8. Eric never learn his mistake does he? To touch an angel's halo? Really?

9. ITS A FUCKING LANDMINE???

[Gabriel flashback begin]

10. They took the ineffable bureaucracy ship very seriously it seems

11. THEY REALLY TOOK IT SERIOUSLY

12. Omg they are serious. Is this how a fandom win?

13. Beelzebub likes the song, Gabriel follows, then made a miracle to keep playing it. I serious can't be sane right now.

14. THEY HANDS TOUCHED

[Beelzebub gave Gabriel the fly]

15. This is a fucking romance drama and Im living for it

16. No.

[Yeah Ineffable Bureaucracy held hand. It was not AziCrow scene.]

17. For the record, I didnt see it coming. I mean I kinda see it, but I thoughy its just my fangirl mind being delusional.

When they were going to hold hands I immediately stop and running around the house. Kneeling and crying like a pathetic bitch. I know I really say I was sobbing before but it was just dramatic talk. But I am crying right now. For real.

18. Aziraphale reaching out to Crowley I...

19. Crowley cleaning up the house before his angel comeback is so cute

(This reaction was written after 2 weeks because I have calmed down by now)

20. I kept cursing at those two for the entire confession scene. Then the kiss came and I did the same as 17 for a few minutes before I continue the episode. I was dead the entire time after that, just watching them driving and smiling in the elevator with a dumb face. When the credit end, I threw away the headphone and sobbing for a few more minutes while my family members look at me weirdly (they don't watch it. good for them, good for them). I was never the same after that. I can't focus on any other fandom. I have been dead for 2 weeks, but also making a lot of theories and conclusions. I made a world building sheet for the show. It was fun. I'm not normal yet.

Anyway, thank you Neil Gaiman for making season 2! Now we desperately need season 3! I wish for the strike to go smootly and we all get what we need to get!

[anubishoarmurath]

GOTD rewatch - with spoilers

As you know, block "anubis rewatches gotd" if not interested :)

Eps 14 & 15

Master Wei backstory !! oop honestly, if you put a gun to my head and told me to choose a Xu Qi'an heteroship I'd genuinely choose Chu Caiwei, they're so funny together and cute!

Song Tingfeng, my favorite tour guide So the imperial celebration stuff, more princess mix up (though this sort of seems to imply Huaiqing now knows Lin'an is faking being her and chooses not to humiliate her little sister in front of everyone which I think is nice of her). More suspicious magic stuff! hahaha this emperor is so sus and mean man nr. 1 really making me believe in my wild "it's Huaiqing, actually" theory because like who else could it beeeeeeeee Ep 15 oh noo this is the "wow shit gets bad" episode poor Tingfeng ;_; poor Xu Qi'an ready to go apeshit poor Guangxiao trying to keep his homie from going apeshit waaaaaa it's hard to watch genuinely hahahaha and even though I know what's coming it's still hard Anyway I think Dylan Wang is very good at the "angy ready to go apeshit" so my petition for the world is to put him in anything that deploys more of that. and the comedy part. but honestly cover him in blood and let him go apeshit, it's glorious (ep 38 I am looking at you. or was it 39.) I am gonna go ahead and post this and then the second half when I get the energy to watch this bit, I remember how wild it was "oh lol teehe OH BOY OH SHIT OH FUCK" etc

[synamartia]

Heheheheheeehhh~ Let's go, bitches~ ❤️‍🔥

✧ From the moment he’d moved into the hotel, Alastor noticed the falling angel creeping through the halls in the middle of the night, thick, dark circles under his eyes and an expression he could only describe as tortured.

BABY C'MERE. LEMME SING YOU TO SLEEP. D;

✧ It must’ve been scarring nightmares that haunted Lucifer, the way he writhed and whimpered, fighting for air and almost choking before he’d shoot up, panicked and halfway transformed to the demonic angel he became after his fall into the depths of depravation. His blonde hair would stick onto his sweaty forehead, swept away only by his trembling hands, and Lucifer would cry, for hours at times, until dawn would break and he’d mask himself in his usual, debonair demeanor again, facing his daughter and the inhabitants of the hotel with another night of lost sleep on his shoulders.

bay-beeeeeeeee- WHY DO YA'LL TORTURE ME WITH THESE LINES. I just wanna hold him now. God. TT-TT i love it do it more

✧ First, Lucifer had stuttered incoherently. Then had denied, then had laughed nervously, then had said no before hurriedly fleeing from him. But Alastor didn't have to wait even a fortnight after proposing this unusual arrangement for the naive royal to open a portal in his bayou, barking an "Are you fuckin' coming or not?" while waving a mesopotamian tomb about blood magic for good measure.

The plethora of "no but you will be" styled jokes that came to mind oml

✧ "With Michael and the other arch-angels present? Look at my face and tell me how it went."

YES. FUCK. THANK YOU FRAU. I was wondering if I was the only one that thought about the arch angels as part of the story thank youuuuuuu TTwTT 💖

✧ His ears twitched when he heard a mournful, quiet "Yeah, that's what makes it worse.". After a long moment of silence between Alastor and the mountain of plush fabric, Lucifer's voice traveled damply through the layers. "Can you... pet my head until I'm asleep?"

CUTENESS AGGRESSION OVERLOAD. GIMME GIMME GIMME-

✧ "Can you please stop fucking patronizing me and just scratch my goddamn head?!"

I *live* for a short fused, short king omfg. C'mere, lemme give you the head scritches, booboo. And i don't mean the head you put your top hat on or maybe i do

✧ "Makes no sense to listen for words, if you aren't ready to receive the message, bambi."

✧ Against all good judgment, Alastor sprung into action. If a simple touch of his hand could soothe a mild nightmare, he'd just have to, well, put in more effort for a bad one. That was the proposed arrangement, wasn't it? The covers were thrown back, and before he could change his mind, Alastor slid under the blankets and sheets, laying down next to the twitching demon. With a sigh, he put an arm around Lucifer, pressing his front against the winged back, and pulled him closer, resting his chin on the crook of his shoulder, his nose and mouth touching the bare skin of his neck.

Yeah, it was. Now get to work, baby boy.

✧ His grin widened at the change of tune in Lucifer's whine. 'Let's see how much effort my king can take' the Radio Demon thought, the fingers of his other hand combing through his hair, scraping along his skull. It was a risky plan, to indulge Lucifer's frivolously mumbled innuendo, but then again, what could be a greater entertainment than the thrill of having the king of hell defenseless and weak, writhing at his fingertips? Wasn't he all about entertainment?

My brain. Stopped working. At that line- thought? Idek. I just know I NEED this like Bender needs beer.

✧ Oh, this was fun, so much fun…Alastor could barely stop himself from chuckling, instead deciding on another experimental jerk with his hand. This elicited another noise from Lucifer, more desperate this time and Alastor repeated the action, his tongue trailing from the bottom of his shoulder up to his neck. It tasted salty and slightly sweet and utterly divine. The essence of an angel, and Alastor felt his throat thirsty for more of this heavenly flavor.

I DON'T KNOW WHO I'M JEALOUS OF MORE. ALASTOR OR LUCIFER. CAN I HAVE BOTH? PLEASE???

✧ That he could get addicted to this after all - the feeling of power over the king of hell himself, the taste of the heavenly essence still so prominent in the fallen angel, and the company, even if abrasive and bantering. Lucifer challenged Alastor, and although he'd never tell a soul - unlike so many others, he was at the very least, a worthy sparring partner.

Fucking LOVE how you reminded us of Alastor's true nature, Frau! (and by true nature I mean the fact that he's always got a secret motive, always looking for a chance to make a deal, is power hungry, etc.) God damn! If I could find it, I would insert that lip bite emoji TTwTT ❤️‍🔥

✧ "Ngh… Fuck. That's an A for e-effort, if I've e-ever seen one."

THE WAY MY HEART LEAPT INTO MY THROAT. I WAS SO IMMERSED IN THE SCENE I FORGOT HE WAS ASLEEP.

FRAU. HOLY. SHIT. GIMME MORE. please i'll be good i swear 🥺

@minkdelovely minky-poo. you're next. i am going down the list, and you're up~ 😘

Hello lovelies! Even though it's hard to follow Hazel, I hope you will enjoy todays little kinky story too!

Somnophilia is a personal favorite of mine, and reimagining it with RadioApple in mind was less a challenge than it was an experience :D I had to keep myself from writing, and who knows if I won't revisit this specific bit in the future? ;> To keep you from missing all the other juicy bits to cum come, I suggest following those beautiful creatures right here 👇🏼

Coven: @hazelfoureyes@minkdelovely@sugoi-writes@macabr3-barbi3@synamartia (banner by Syn!)

Warnings: Somnophilia, Implied but not explicit consent, Mentions of Insomnia, Depictions of depression and nightmares/night terrors, Blowjob, Hand job - Fun times all around!And as usual: Minors Stay away - 🔞

The king of hell was a lousy sleeper.

From the moment he’d moved into the hotel, Alastor noticed the falling angel creeping through the halls in the middle of the night, thick, dark circles under his eyes and an expression he could only describe as tortured.

Hidden in the familiar shadows, he’d stalk Lucifer out, night after night, and the initial delight changed into morbid curiosity. Such a curiosity in fact, that instead of mocking him, he decided to further his investigations. And what he found - well, was rather peculiar. Lucifer, king of hell and royal head of the realm, was afraid of sleep.

Alastor saw him more than once, from the dark corners in Lucifer’s chambers where he concealed himself, pacing around his room, or more accurately: in front of his wide, luxurious bed, pained and conflicted. In most instances he’d sigh, put on his slippers and morning coat, and flee into the empty halls. But on very rare occasions, Lucifer would, with furrowed brows, slide into his bed. And what followed unwillingly elicited a certain kind of sympathy in the Radio Demon.

It must’ve been scarring nightmares that haunted Lucifer, the way he writhed and whimpered, fighting for air and almost choking before he’d shoot up, panicked and halfway transformed to the demonic angel he became after his fall into the depths of depravation. His blonde hair would stick onto his sweaty forehead, swept away only by his trembling hands, and Lucifer would cry, for hours at times, until dawn would break and he’d mask himself in his usual, debonair demeanor again, facing his daughter and the inhabitants of the hotel with another night of lost sleep on his shoulders.

He could've used it against him - it would’ve been a perfect addition to his arsenal. But Alastor knew torturous nightmares just a little too well. They were one of the reasons he, too, was evading sleep as much as he could allow himself. But while his were just draining, Lucifer's seemed to be outright cruel.

So he thought he had the perfect bargaining chip in hand for a rather harmless, little tit-for-tat. Offer his assistance in relieving the king's nightly terrors, in whichever way needed, in exchange for access to his personal collection of ancient (and most certainly rarely known) spellbooks he'd spotted in his nocturnal stake-outs, sitting in his bookshelf where these dreadful ducks weren't occupying the space, adding with a sly smirk:

"And - let's be honest your highness - you're so much more bearable to be with when you're knocked out and not talking."

First, Lucifer had stuttered incoherently. Then had denied, then had laughed nervously, then had said no before hurriedly fleeing from him. But Alastor didn't have to wait even a fortnight after proposing this unusual arrangement for the naive royal to open a portal in his bayou, barking an "Are you fuckin' coming or not?" while waving a mesopotamian tomb about blood magic for good measure.

And Alastor had followed.

The first night of many.

For a few weeks now, the angel would open his his door when he knocked (the privacy-intrusive portaling forbidden by Alastor), less wary than the night before, offer a drink from his personal supply (Alastor had to admit he had a rather pleasant taste in whiskey) and maybe even engage in borderline friendly conversation before they'd settle on the bed: Lucifer under, Alastor over the pristine bedding.

Every night another book and the same steady, even, peaceful breaths. It seemed that the fallen angel’s loneliness was, at last, soothed when another warm body laid next to him.

Until Lucifer would inevitably start to whine. The first time it happened Alastor stared at the twitching man gripping his sheets, grinding his teeth and whimpering like a child. It wasn't as intense as the ones Alastor had witnessed before, this nightmare, but still enough to rattle Lucifer out of his tranquil rest. A silent tear escaped his shut eyes, and Alastor, as if in trance, kept staring at Lucifer as he reached out his hand and, after a moment of hesitation, rested it on his cheek.

That small gesture seemed to do the trick - the demon's erratic, fearful movements slowed down, a low, blissful hum coming from his throat. The frown melted away and Alastors' breath hitched in his own throat as he leaned closer to observe this phenomenon. The relaxed, even serene expression that appeared on Lucifer's features under the palm of his hand…

He had tamed the devil with barely a touch.

Alastor felt triumph surge in his chest, as well as an unexplained feeling of relief he couldn't explain. When Lucifer awoke that morning, Alastors hand in his hair and ever so slightly, almost gently, scratching his scalp, he didn't say anything, and Alastor was thankful for it. But that night changed something, in both of them - Alastor felt it. Soon, his hand on some part of the angel's body became as much a habit as reading a book while Lucifer slept.

"You seem more tense than usual - what, did one of your frivolous ducks explode?"

Alastor smirked at the grumpy growl he received, already settled and propped onto his usual pillows, a sanskrit book about alchemy in hand, as Lucifer threw off his clothes sans the stupidly ridiculous rubber-duck-boxers he usually slept in and climbed in and under the sheets with a hybrid of a huff and a groan.

"Compared to what I had to endure today, I wish. Had to go to the embassy again."

"I do hope this meeting went more favorable than your last?" Alastor queried, reading over some runes he only partially recognized, remembering fragments of the ancient language from an essay he acquired a few decades ago. The poignant look Lucifer shot him made him lower his book. The king pointed at his exhausted face, brows raised.

"With Michael and the other arch-angels present? Look at my face and tell me how it went."

"Ah well," Alastor grinned at him as he disappeared into a pile of duvet, pillows and sheets as if he wanted to burrow himself alive. "If at first you don't succeed, there's always next time."

His ears twitched when he heard a mournful, quiet "Yeah, that's what makes it worse.". After a long moment of silence between Alastor and the mountain of plush fabric, Lucifer's voice traveled damply through the layers. "Can you... pet my head until I'm asleep?"

Alastor startled at the blunt request, watching Lucifer's embarrassed face pop out from the nest he’d built himself. It was the first time that Lucifer outright asked for what Alastor had given unrequested night after night.

"I clearly remember you telling me I'd make a worse nanny than I'd make a hotelier, now you ask me to pamper you? Oh, how the tides turn."

"God, do you have to be such an ass, Alastor?! I'm fucking lonely, and you know you're..." Lucifer stopped himself, biting his lips. He turned away from him, pulling up his shoulders, disappearing into the pile again. "Forget it."

"Now don't be so insolent. I know what, my king? That I'm...?", Alastor tried, raising a single eyebrow at the sulking pile. Lucifer mumbled a short, vehement and very audible string of curses, to Alastor's great delight and even greater curiosity.

"Can you please stop fucking patronizing me and just scratch my goddamn head?!"

"Alas, since you asked so nicely!" To his never-ceasing astonishment, his touch and gentle ministration at the base of his hairline calmed Lucifers entire body down, relaxing the knot of muscles under the touch almost instantly. When he let out a long, content sigh, the deer demon just snickered. "My, my, such obscene noises from the ruler of the realm just for a simple head scratch. I fear what you'd sound like if I put in a little more effort!"

"Then put in more effort." Lucifer mumbled, already on his way to cross the border between awake and sleep, but his voice had a certain, unmistakable edge - a meaning behind so outrageous it hit Alastor like a ton of bricks. He stills, his hand unmoving in Lucifer's blonde locks, his grin slightly tweaking.

"Hm? I don't think I quite catched that right."

"Makes no sense to listen for words, if you aren't ready to receive the message, bambi."

"Oh," Alastor's wide grin returns when Lucifer, to underline his point, rolls his hips teasingly, "If you are insinuating what I think you are then that's quite the daring offer so close to drifting into sleep, even for the devil himself."

Lucifer's voice was quiet and slurred as his head fell deeper against the pillow, eyes shut and sleep already taking hold of his mind. "'Said it yourself - 'y like me best when 'm knocked out and stop talkin'..." And with that cryptic message, Lucifer left the waking world behind, and in it a - for once - speechless Radio Demon.

Hours passed, all the while Alastor tried to concentrate on the runes in his book, while trying not to listen too closely to the slow, calm breathing. He only tore his eyes away from the text whenever Lucifer's hands flexed and fisted in the duvet, or a small whimper broke free, until the pressure subsided. But eventually, Alastor let the spellbook sink as he mulled over the recent developments of their weird relationship - if it even could be called that. The days were still spent with banter and fights, especially when the matter of authority of either demon was challenged by the other. But their nights were something else, something calm and somewhat peaceful, like a truce in the midst of a cold war, and for some ungodly reason, Alastor hadn't felt this relaxed in ages either, which meant that although bizarre, this arrangement turned out to be mutually beneficial after all. But if Lucifer had indeed insinuated what he thought he had insinuated...

The small figure began to shift, slowly tossing and turning. Another nightmare, Alastor thought and returned to stroking the nape of the fallen angel's delicate neck, only to realize it was covered in cold sweat. With wide eyes, Alastor noticed Lucifer's brows drawn together in his torturous dream, breath erratic and frantic as his horns sprouted and grew in sync with his admittedly beautiful wings.

Against all good judgment, Alastor sprung into action. If a simple touch of his hand could soothe a mild nightmare, he'd just have to, well, put in more effort for a bad one. That was the proposed arrangement, wasn't it? The covers were thrown back, and before he could change his mind, Alastor slid under the blankets and sheets, laying down next to the twitching demon. With a sigh, he put an arm around Lucifer, pressing his front against the winged back, and pulled him closer, resting his chin on the crook of his shoulder, his nose and mouth touching the bare skin of his neck.

The Radio Demon tensed and waited. When Lucifer's body began to relax, his horns and wings started to retract and the cries became quiet whimpers, a smile crept over his features and his claws found the golden hair again. As soon as his fingers began to work his scalp, his whines died down and the angel leaned against him. Alastor's heart did a leap.

The king was so close, and his skin so warm where it connected with his lips. So inviting to bite down, taste a bit of that angelic blood that Alastor had always wanted to sample. But waking Lucifer would mean not adhering to the proposal, and he couldn't have that ending. Not when the fallen angel's tired voice rang so temptingly in his ears.

Tentatively, Alastor let one of his hands wander, from where it rested on Lucifer's slender waist, down further, over his hip and to the inside of his thigh.

His grin widened at the change of tune in Lucifer's whine. 'Let's see how much effort my king can take' the Radio Demon thought, the fingers of his other hand combing through his hair, scraping along his skull. It was a risky plan, to indulge Lucifer's frivolously mumbled innuendo, but then again, what could be a greater entertainment than the thrill of having the king of hell defenseless and weak, writhing at his fingertips? Wasn't he all about entertainment?

Letting the fingers that weren't in blonde locks explore, Alastor skirted his talon up the fair and sensible inner thigh, reaching further and further until he found the heated center, finding him semi-hard and tender under the fabric of his boxers. Slowly, he brushed his fingers over it, palming him firmly, earning a sinful moan from the sleeping demon. He listened for any signs of waking and found none as he sliced the offensively hindering piece of clothing open and his thumb began to work his swollen tip.

A flood of goosebumps erupted on his skin as he listened to Lucifer's heaving, irregular breaths, intensifying with every stroke he supplied.

How far could he go with this?

When would Lucifer wake?

He was so open, so sensitive and Alastor found himself enjoying the prospect of putting him at his mercy, teasing him to the edge of consciousness with his every little movement.

As the hand on Lucifer's cock ceased all movement for a moment, the angel breathed out a sound that wasn't a whimper or a moan or a cry - it was something deep and sensual, like an unarticulated plea and his hips bucked weakly into his grip.

Oh, this was fun, so much fun…Alastor could barely stop himself from chuckling, instead deciding on another experimental jerk with his hand. This elicited another noise from Lucifer, more desperate this time and Alastor repeated the action, his tongue trailing from the bottom of his shoulder up to his neck. It tasted salty and slightly sweet and utterly divine. The essence of an angel, and Alastor felt his throat thirsty for more of this heavenly flavor.

Moving swiftly, the deer peeled himself off Lucifer's back, shifting onto his knees and in between the skinny, white legs, eyes fixated on the hard and dripping member he still lazily stroked. The cum glistened in the gloomy light of the room as if it was liquid gold. The need to sample him had him leaning down, his hands pushing Lucifer's thighs further apart, making his hips arch invitingly as he opened his mouth and wrapped his tongue around the wet crown of his erection.The skin here was softer than anything he ever touched before, and oh, the taste!

That indescribable taste he had lusted after was like the perfect morsel on his palate, so divine Alastor feared for a moment he'd go off in flames from the heat that spread through him.

He moaned around the head, sucking on it hungrily as more precome hit his tongue, his ears filled with nothing but ragged and loud breaths. Lucifer was still too far gone into this dream world of bliss to wake, and a thought pierced his mind, one he shouldn't be dwelling on, but one he did, his damned tail swinging wildly from one side to the other:

That he could get addicted to this after all - the feeling of power over the king of hell himself, the taste of the heavenly essence still so prominent in the fallen angel, and the company, even if abrasive and bantering. Lucifer challenged Alastor, and although he'd never tell a soul - unlike so many others, he was at the very least, a worthy sparring partner.

Opening his eyes again and sliding down, taking him all the way, the head touching the back of his throat, he felt a slight stirring above, Lucifer shifting and panting. Just for a few more moments. Alastor pushed a bit deeper, teasing and testing before sliding upwards and setting a steady and firm pace, one hand tightening its hold on Lucifer's hip and the other wandering down, exploring the path over his smooth, tightened balls to the tensed ring of muscle below. Slowly he began circling it, sucking harder and stroking him faster until a noise he had not yet heard pierced his ears. Lucifer, in his dream, moaned his name. And for once, Alastor didn't mind it at all.

Instead, he closed his eyes and just drank in the sound of the sleeping angel moaning like he's dying for him, feeling himself responding to the lewd display of helpless want as his own cock twitches against the strained fabric of his pajama. Without his conscious accord, the tip of his finger entered the hot, willing hole, and his tongue lapped eagerly as he did, searching for another taste and there's nothing - absolutely nothing - better in this whole wretched pandemonium than the sensation of Lucifer arching and curling under him.

"Ngh… Fuck. That's an A for e-effort, if I've e-ever seen one."

Alastors eyes flew open. Lucifer's head was turned to the side, eyes barely open, irises glowing with lust in his hazy gaze. When he tried to retreat, a sudden wave of both disappointment and a weird sense of shame washed over him, Lucifer's immediate grip in his hair was painfully firm, holding him exactly where he was, while a tired smile crept on the kings' lips.

"Don't stop now when you fin-ah... not when y-ou finally gotten the h-hint." 

Lucifer panted and sank back into the pillows, legs falling further apart and hips angling, opening even more while Alastor felt the corners of his mouth twitch in renewed excitement. Noting to himself to renegotiate their agreement come morning, he hummed in accordance to Lucifer's mumbled words as he descended onto the slickened heat of the angel's cock again."Not w-with those pleasant dreams you were giving me."

[the-geek-librarian]

Was in a mood, made some memes

Yes im going Arc V style but not exacly I just thing that Zarc as a dragon and and idea looks cool as fuck let me beeeeeeeee

Also, Briget belongs to @t-f-t so yeah go check it out cool shit, man idk what im doing

[zillaofthevalley]

welcooooommmmeee ✮

hello. hi! how's it going out there in the world?

i'm starting this blog as a diary into the universe...and i am truly not quite sure where to really begin. i guess we could start at the beginning...

since the dawn of time...

ok not that early.

but my beginning...

in 2003, a child was born. to a couple (who would later get divorced) (but that doesn't really matter)...with two siblings; i grew up well. we were poor but i was very happy. all the time. my mom is my hero, my dad is my rockstar and i loved my sister and playing with barbies, and i loved my brother and watching him play GTA. my most memorable moments would be in my elementary years where i had the most fun.

fast forward 20.5 years later and here i am. surfing the technology waves at my fingertips and trying to find my way...i am not as lost as i used to be when i would first blog like this and i am fairly certain no one will ever read this and for that i am ok with,

i just want to freely talk--and anonymously--because GOD, i am sick of being the face of all the stuff i talk about. i fear (but with no actual phobia or any sort) that i may be one of the very few 20 year olds who has now deleted instagram and snapchat. i am sick of all the social media, if we're being honest. i don't want to search for what i think i should be or shouldn't be in others. i just want to beeeeeeeee....so here i am. being.

my current state of being is a college student, a freshman at my local community college and i do not care how dorky it is i LOVE IT! i love learning, meeting all these new people, and gaining all these new experiences. i am an art major and so far, i have loved all the classes i have taken (except for my Spanish prof...i'm looking at you Jerry.) but the plus side to all of this (besides a degree and a career possibly) is i met the love of my life about 6 months ago.

in the throes of my very first semester at college i took a geology class--sorta on a limb? it was between that and taking a less interesting sounding science credit, but boy was it the best decision of my life. meeting my boyfriend has pointed me in the furthest positive direction i have ever seen my life form into;

i eat (almost each day) 3 times every day! i wake up with wonder & hope again, i do my homework, i have love in my life AND i am reading again...which i am sure i will blog lots about. i am on my 7th book of the 2024 year (though i may abandon it...see Discussion of Books post, which i'm sure i'll do..)

mainly what i am seeking from this blog is to let out the passions, put my aspirations out there and find quality content in a safer space than where all my ghosts from my past may jump out at me on Instagram and Snapchat...uggggghhhhhh....

a digital diary. a discussion post for myself (and others if they so wish). and a safe space for life, love and happiness (cringe, whateva)

so, join me if you would, on this journey of my life. bring along what you may, i'm ready for you world and i'm coming in hot

[i-will-revive-your-shoelaces]

It started out as a sort of recap of my day, but it was through vignettes, so school, walk home, then my classmate asks me what I wanna do with life so I snap over to home.

It was my aunts birthday yesterday, so they were at my house, they made me babysit my sister and cousin, who would run around my town in my dream. So the vignettes ended up being at some very particular places which didn't affect me well (both in and out of dream, they like, physically drained me in my dream), but we ended up coming back to my house eventually.

I let my sister and cousin go on YouTube on the laptop in my room, I sat on my bed and just, kinda sat there for a bit. But my cousin started getting to rowdy so I told them to go outside, but they just left the frame (for reference, the vignette were 1st person, while this part changed between 1st person with a bit of a squeeze on the camera and 2nd person behind my back but like, really close), so they're not using the computer anymore, and I sit down, and I start schooling through YouTube.

I start watching PopularMMOs videos, except it's just Pat, so I wanna click off, but the site doesn't let me, whenever I click another thumbnail it sends me back to this video of him (in minecraft) mining a little cave our while talking, then going to his house to leave the stuff, but with each click, there's this song in the background gots louder, it went like "You are not bEEEEeeeee, fully, trusteeeeeed" and also, with each click of a new video, the thumbnails change, at first they were just other PopularMMOs thumbnails, then they looked like overly stylized book art I think, but eventually, the overly stylized book art started looking like Rei from NGE. Specifically the one I started crying on in the dream was one where her head was sorta, blown off, but it was heavily stylized so it wasn't awfully graphic, but she didn't have half of her head, where's half of her head??? It was a white-brige background and she was was sorta giving a side-eye to the camera, I kept on trying to click on her, but I couldn't do it, the video eventually stopped reloading and kept on going, the song was blasting at this point. I gave it one last click, not expecting anything, but, this is kinda fuzzy, I think fly me to the moon started playing and I just started balling my eyes out. Ik I saw the screen, it was just rei smiling and I started saying I'm sorry to the screen and then my cousinbasked me if I was doing Ok and i woke up in a sweat

I think I just had a mental breakdown via 4/5ths asleep dream

[buckyismybicycle]

Title: “I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master” [AO3 Link]   Originally written as part of: Bucky Barnes As… a Rockstar  SERIES MASTERLIST  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Mature Summary/Notes: This is, pretty much, exactly what it looks like. Rockstar Bucky, Flirting, etc. EDIT: Now! I’m happy to announce that this is now IT’S OWN SERIES that I have the honour of writing with @rookthorne! More rockstar!Bucky for everyone! 

“𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐝” Series Masterlist | Part 2 »

The crowd is already worked up from the band on stage and Bucky is grinning maniacally behind the stage. Nat, his bassist, looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You good, Buck?”

“Fucking fantastic, Natalia. I’m fucking fantastic. You see ‘em? It’s packed out there.”

“Your shows have been sold out all week,” Sharon reminds him while fixing Scott’s guitar strap.

“Iunno, Shar, it’s just different. Somethin’ about this place.” His blood is pumping from the heavy bass, the Cap Quartet rocking out on stage. He’s played shows with them before - Sam, Steve, Joaquin and Riley are all cool dudes. They’d become friends pretty easily, so it was a no-brainer that they were the first band Bucky asked to co-headline his tour.

—

“Thank you, you beautiful bastards!” Riley’s voice booms, followed by a loud screeching of the crowd. “Hang onto your panties if you still got ‘em, because the final act is gonna knock you dead. Yeah, you know who I’m talking about, the band you’ve all been waiting for — let me hear you fuckers!”

Bucky closes his eyes and lets the thrum of the audience's cheer work its way all the way into his bones. Fuck, he almost has a boner.

“Where’s Clint?” He asks, eager to get on stage. Natasha jerks a finger behind her where Clint is downing a bag of Cheerios between sips of Mountain Dew. Bucky grins, because it means Clint will be amped. Bucky can’t help but strum his own guitar a few times, the calluses on his fingers a permanent fixture by now.

Natasha hauls both Scott and Clint over practically by the ear, her studded combat boots thumping with each step.

“Ready?” Bucky asks with a wicked smile.

“Ready,” the three return in their usual manner, with grins and lazy salutes. Then it’s blinding lights and deafening roars.

Bucky wastes no time in getting the crowd amped.

“C’mon, are we asleep out here?! Let’s gooooo bay-beeeeeeeee!” While Bucky is loud, the crowd is louder and they are on their feet from the first strum of his guitar, and Bucky feels high as a kite.

It’s not your first show at the Kathedral, but it’s certainly the loudest. You’d never heard of this particular band, but Misty’s best friends make up the Cap Quartet, so you had to support them, of course. And they were good, you actually liked when they popped up on your shuffle.

Originally, you thought you’d maybe dip after they were done - sitting for two opening acts and the Cap Quartet’s set already had your feet aching. But the moment the next band stepped out, and Misty starts jumping up and down beside you, you have no choice but to stay. The energy was infectious and you kind of missed just letting go. You may not be a rebellious teenager anymore, but the atmosphere of being at a rock concert makes you feel young and reckless again. Even the smell of spilled beer and sweat brings back a bit of nostalgia, back to when you were sixteen and had ‘X’s drawn on your hands just to get in the venue.

“C’mon, are we asleep out here?!” You hear the singer shout, and you can’t help but think how beautiful the whole band is.

There’s a redhead rocking heeled boots that look like they could kill a man, her bass guitar plastered with stickers. The drummer is wearing a sleeveless muscle tank that does wonders for his arms and the other guitarist has a dazzling smile when he looks out into the crowd.

But the lead singer - he’s rocking black leather pants that bunch above his combat boots like he’d haphazardly stuck his feet in, but they’re tight across his thighs. You can see every flex in his muscles as he jumps around on stage. His hair whips around his face as he throws his whole body into his performance. It’s a small miracle he even manages to hit any notes on his guitar. His black t-shirt stretches across his shoulders and chest, hugging his biceps, which makes your mouth water, but what really hits you is his voice.

The opening notes of his song are the epitome of zero to one hundred. Your throat almost hurts just from watching him, but he’s nothing but smiles, clearly lost in what he loves.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

He gets a moment of reprieve when the next part comes up, before he ramps up again, the veins in his neck prominent, making you wanna lick them. A glint of metal flashes in his mouth when he sings — a tongue piercing, probably.

One at a time I know this bridge we built won't last But it'll hold for at least a while Even when the life leaves your bones Your soul will follow me wherever I go It's in the way I feel your fire even when I sleep at night I stay inside your glow

He hits the chorus again, just as hard as he did at the beginning and you swear the floor shakes as everyone jumps.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

Then he faces the audience and hops on the speaker in front, leaning forward with his microphone, his other hand waving for the crowd to sing it back to him. You’re captivated by his crystal-like eyes as the lights bounce off them.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

You even find yourself shouting along, the song is so catchy that you’re into it from the moment it started. As you shout the last line, he looks right at you and it’s like an electrifying bolt through your body as he holds the look for the next line before he bounds off to the sides of the stage that he’s been neglecting.

You’re in awe as his voice changes to something smooth and soft, the instruments that were near deafening slowing down with him. He sways in the middle of the stage, face turned up as though in prayer, the bassist even hitting a few notes on the keyboard to her side as she backs him up, vocally.

I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the)

And in perfect sync, the band picks up, hard again, all of them (except the drummer) jumping as well and the crowd goes wild. You narrowly miss getting kicked in the head by a crowdsurfer, who gets a fistbump from the singer over the side of the stage.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife Lost a vital part of me Lost a vital part of me Now there's nothing left I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

You’re in a trance when he ends the song, holding the note so long you’re sure his lungs should burst. Maybe it’s the heat, or the adrenaline, or just your heart pumping out of your chest as you bounce for the rest of the set, but you could swear that the lead singer kept catching your eye.

You feel like you’re flying, on cloud nine, so maybe it’s all in your head, but goddamn if you didn’t twitch with want every time you met his eyes. How this crowd still had energy was beyond you, you knew that you were dead on your feet, hair plastered to your neck with sweat but grinning wildly.

“Alright you hellions, this is the last one.” When the crowd starts chanting ‘encore, encore’ he just laughs into the mic, his voice a little raspy from his performance.

“If we could, we’d play all fuckin’ night, you know that! But some of us gotta get to Indiana by tomorrow night. So we gotta make this last one count. Let’s get sexy, folks.”

His husky voice makes it absolutely devastating as he starts off by smirking at you.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master I wanna make your heart beat Run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy I wanna be a gangster 'Cause you can be the beauty And I could be the monster

It’s as though each line sent a new wave of desire through you. You picture calling him a good boy, wonder if he’d flush just as beautifully as he did now under the heat of the lights.

I love you since this morning Not just for aesthetic I wanna touch your body So fucking electric

The crowd loses its collective mind as he starts to ruck up his shirt, as each line gets progressively more seductive, and his shirt rides further and further up. You can’t help but ogle his washboard abs glistening with sweat since he was right there.

I know you scared of me You said that I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears And that's fucking pathetic I wanna make you hungry Then I wanna feed ya I wanna paint your face Like you're my Mona Lisa

Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest image you’d had all night. His shirt comes off over his head and he twirls it, throwing behind him.

I wanna be a champion I wanna be a loser I'll even be a clown Cause I just wanna amuse ya I wanna be your sex toy I wanna be your teacher I wanna be your sin I wanna be a preacher

You lick your lips just as he turns to you and if possible, his smile grows even bigger, feral, as he sings right at you. The lyrics made your head spin with want.

I wanna make you love me Then I wanna leave ya 'Cause baby I'm your David And you're my Goliath

He winks before strutting off, his muscles tight and taunting. The sway of his hips, intentional or not, entices you, and you’d give anything to bite down on them. The stupid pants are just taunting you at this point.

Ah-ha… Mhm, ah-ha\ Because I'm the devil Who's searching for redemption And I'm a lawyer Who's searching for redemption And I'm a killer Who's searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption

He sinks to his knees on the stage as steam hisses in the back in billow pillars. The lights change, flashing reds and oranges, yellows and pinks. They dance magically across his skin.

And I'm a bad guy Who's searching for redemption And I'm a blonde girl Who's searching for redemption I'm a freak that Is searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master

You’re going to die - straight to heaven or hell, it doesn’t matter at this point, because he’s honest-to-god crawling across the stage on his arms and knees, his mic still in one hand.

I wanna make your heart beat Run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy I wanna be a gangster Cause you can be the beauty And I could be the monster I wanna make you quiet I wanna make you nervous I wanna set you free But I'm too fucking jealous I wanna pull your strings Like you're my telecaster And if you want to use me I could be your puppet 'Cause I'm the devil Who's searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption

He ends at the edge of the stage, his torturous crawl making your throat go dry from more than just your screaming. Then, he flips on his back, lets his head hang over the side of the stage.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master

The last line is but a whisper, and then he finally lets the mic drop, his arms stretched like he’s going for a backwards dive and his chest is heaving. He’s a sweaty mess, body on display and licks his lips while staring a hole into your soul.

—

The venue slowly begins to empty, stragglers buying merch or finishing their drinks. You feel dizzy when Misty drags you outside, saying that her friends want to hang out for a bit before they leave for the next town. You stumble along because, yeah, alright, her friends are cool.

They’re by their tour bus, all of them outside with drinks in their hands and they wave you both over.

“Excellent show, boys,” you greet as everyone takes turns hugging both you and Misty.

“Yeah, you guys killed it!” Misty agrees enthusiastically.

“What’d you think of the other bands?” Sam asks. “Parasite Fears has never been on the road like this.”

“That was the first band, right? They were really good! And the set was fun,” you say honestly. Now that you’re outside and it’s getting late, the sweat on your body is cooling, causing you to shiver a bit. Riley hands you a cup and when you ask what it is, he just smiles. You drink it anyway, because why not. They spend a few minutes chatting before a warm arm wraps around your shoulders, and your breath catches at the sight of bright crystal-like eyes beside you. His other arm is thrown over Joaquin as he stands between you.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiles blindingly at you.

“Hi,” you say back, still a little stunned at how at ease he seemed to be, even as he retracts his arm. He’s changed into basketball shorts of all things, which makes you even chillier just looking at him. This close, you can see the intricate lines of his tattoos - metal plates from shoulder to fingers on his left arm, swirls of black script along his other.

“You look cold, sweetheart,” he observes. “Couldn’t you guys have taken this party into the tour bus?”

“They’re fixing the bus,” Steve says. “Told us to stay outta the way.”

“You sure you’re gonna be alright to head out?” Bucky asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Should be,” Steve shrugs. “Tones said we’d be fine, or else he’d find another way. We’ll know in about two hours or so.”

“Ehhh, tell Tones to relax for once. If anything, you can divvy yourselves up and the rest of us could shuttle you the rest o’ the way.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve claps him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, can’t have you ruining the tour, punk.”

Something about their easy camaraderie makes you smile. But you’re still cold, and Bucky still notices.

“If I had a jacket, I’d offer it to you,” he looks back at you. “Next best thing, I can offer our unbroken tour bus?” He jerks his head behind and you see the redheaded bassist leaning against the side smoking a cigarette, chatting with the drummer who appears to be double-fisting drinks.

You look at Misty who is being introduced around to the other bands by Sam and Riley and there’s no way she’s going to be anytime soon.

“Um. You don’t have to,” you say, because he’s a stranger. He cocks his head to study you. It looks like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t push.

“Offer’s open, doll,” he shrugs. Some other members come up to him, Steve, and Joaquin and congratulate them on their set so you quietly slip away.

You don’t know anyone else here, and it’s kind of awkward to be by yourself so you start wandering around. When you round a bus, you nearly smack into the drummer from Bucky’s band and you yelp as you both jump back.

“Sorry!” you both say at the same time before the sandy-haired man smiles and waves before walking past you. You notice that he’d dropped something - though it was small and black making it hard to tell what it was.

“Hey!” you shout at him, but he doesn’t turn around, instead heading back to his bus. You pick up the item, a transmitter of some sort, and try to catch up to him. You can’t seem to find him and the bassist had also left her spot so you approach the bus. The door is completely open but you knock on the frame anyway.

“Hello?” There’s no sound inside so you think about leaving it where he can find it easily.

“Takin’ me up on my offer?” You startle at the sudden voice behind you.

“Actually, your dummer dropped this,” you explain, thankful to at least hand it back to someone. “I tried to get his attention but I don’t think he could hear me, and then I kinda lost him in the crowd.”

“Don’t be offended, he probably took his hearing aids out,” Bucky tells you easily. “Thanks for bringing this back though, Sharon woulda fuckin’ killed him.”

“Hearing aids?” You can’t help but blurt out. “Wow.”

Bucky beams proudly as he tells you about his friend, Clint, how gifted of a drummer he is and how even losing most of his hearing never stopped him.

“That’s amazing,” you say, a genuine smile for his story and how much he was beaming just talking about Clint. Just then a gust of wind blows, and your jean shorts and t-shirt aren’t cutting it.

“C’mon, before you freeze,” Bucky jerks his head toward the tour bus and fuck it. You hop aboard, Bucky following you. He places the transmitter on the kitchenette table, looking hilariously giant in the cramped space.

“You come here often?”

“Did you just use the oldest pick up line of all time?” You scrunch your nose at him, liking the sound of his laugh.

“Is it working?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I’m just asking out of genuine curiosity,” he bats his eyelashes. They’re so pretty, you think to yourself.

“I used to. Less often now, but when I hear someone good is playing, I show up.”

He arches an eyebrow at you.

“Cap Quartet, I mean. Obviously. They don’t scream as much as you do,” you add, and you find yourself relaxing with Bucky as he takes all your jokes and jabs in stride as he tickles you for the slight.

“You hurt my feelings, doll,” he says, all smiles and sharp teeth.

“How ever could I make it up to you?” You find yourself flirting with him.

“Maybe you could scream for me this time,” he suggests, leaning in closer with a tilt of his head, eyes searching yours for a sign.

“Yeah?” You ask a little breathlessly, forgetting how to breathe as you two inch into each other’s spaces now.

“Yeah,” his lips just grazing against your neck. “Didn’t you enjoy that last song I sang for you?”

“For me?” You ask incredulously, making Bucky grin at you.

“Ya heard me, doll. For you,” he repeats. “It seemed like you enjoyed it..”

Whatever thought you’d had about him flirting with you was more or less solidified now, and it was making your body rebel against you. You lick your lips subconsciously before you answer. “Maybe.”

“Especially that bit… about wanting to be your master.”

You involuntarily hold your breath, legs squeezing together. It’s impossible not to imagine Bucky over you, pinning you down as he commands you to do as he wants.

“Or… maybe it was that bit about wanting to be your slave?”

The breath you let out is shaky, matching your trembling hands that are balled into fists across your lap.

Bucky’s eyes darken, and you’re not really sure who made the first move, but you’re suddenly kissing furiously, hands tangled in each other’s hair and clothes.

“Christ, I’ve wanted this since I first fuckin’ saw you,” Bucky tells you, pulling you into his lap, where you can feel his dick hardening through his shorts. It’s embarrassing how fast you get on board, your pussy quivering at the thought of being touched for the first time in too long.

“Tell me what you need, pretty little thing,” he nibbles at your bottom lip. “God, I wanna take you apart, wanna do anythin’ you want.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “That. Want that, too. Want you to fuck me.”

His lips curl into a smile against yours as he lifts you easily to tumble into a bottom bunk. “Yes, master.”

[honoredbastard]

02.            remember?

       char. s. gojou & m. whisper. feel free to believe it as a f!reader.         cw. blood techniques, suggestive themes, & manga spoilers.                            [ more gross writing <3 ]   

tags: @fuckeisuke @candycanssweetlife @forever-war​ @onepotatostand-blog​​

is it selfish to delude yourself of the fact a god likes you. whether you’re a mere mortal, a devil, a grain of salt. is it selfish? that you both have your skin clashing together, an intimate act between to that level each other on the same playing field for however they can last.

kisses that range from your stomach to your jaw. the god touching each and every part of you liked you were something straight out of a fantasy. is it wrong to indulge yourself in such an act?

you weren’t aware of the logics behind it. you were just trying to ride it out, ignore the idea of god and devil. you were finding a reason to accept the idea of him reaching and exposing your deepest parts of yourself without care.

but you couldn’t. you stopped, grabbing your stuff and got dressed. leaving a confused deity, the chosen one, in a love motel bed with it’s sinful arousal. you were seething with self-loath that you were drunk enough to believe it was okay to sleep with him.

“did he leave?” whisper asked curiously, wiping the previous ‘tears’ she used to pull off gojou’s advances. opening the door just enough, she saw the pile of books, they were stacked and there was no sight or presence of the problem. she made her previous blood scythe duller and scooted the books over with haste. “c’mere...”

she was a bit short so when they reached the door she stepped up to grab the books until she was interrupted by the man she was seeking to not find. “hi~” “god.” she scoffed, clenching her books and throwing the door close. aside, there was no slam. “fairy-san.” “asshole-san!~” she mocked, her lips tried to hide her frustration. biting into her cheeks. 

“you wouldn’t close the door on a friend would you?” “can you not act familiar with me? we’re just jujutsu sorcerers. woopity do. i-” she cut herself off, glaring at the man before slamming the books on her bed. “i was just friends with suguru.” she managed before sliding off the coat she was wearing.

rushing past gojou who was keeping the entrance open with his foot. “hm.” gojou ‘watched’ as her cursed energy got further and further away. “is she going to talk to yaga?” he asked himself with a curious tone before he got an itch to be nosey. “i wonder what books she was reading.” sliding his blindfold off, he walked into her dorm without further question.

sliding them out so all titles could be seen. blood technique skills, blades, enchantia, the list went on. what did she need all of these for? some of these books were banned. how did she get them? he stared with squinted eyes, cursed energy residue remained on some. “what are you up to?” she was a grade one sorcerer that had little troubles fighting special grades. what was she trying to reach?

“HAHA. Yaga you must be joking! I shouldn’t be teaching students, I can barely teach myself! You already have a special grade sorcerer, the strongest, the chosen one; Satoru Gojou on this! They’ll be fine!” Her voice rang throughout the dim lit area. 

The man whom she was yelling at was patiently knitting a cursed doll, using the thread to infuse his technique. “Makil.” “Don’t.” Yaga drew a breath through his nose, “Whisper. I know you’re still upset with Suguru’s death. But you have to-” “Upset? Bullshit. I’m not upset, I’m perfectly fine!”

Yaga let go of his doll that was not moving, his hands balled into fist until the slammed down onto the wood where he sat. His voice loud and clear, startling even Whisper. “YOU ARE NOT FINE, WE KNOW THIS MAKIL! YOU FLINCH EACH TIME SUGURU IS BROUGHT UP AND YOU EVEN BROUGHT BANNED BOOKS ABOUT REHIN INTO MY SCHOOL. YOU WERE ONCE MY STUDENT AND SO WAS HE.” 

He slowly got up, his footsteps hard and heavy. “Makil, it’s in the past. You can no longer see Suguru. You can no longer see the man you once loved and you cannot try to shove it down by blaming Satoru. As much as he is hated he’s loved 10x harder. He, right now too is upset. Struggling even. What I need you to do is help these students grow. They’re loveable and remind me of you four when you all were my students.”  

His eyes bore into Makil’s, she shivered at it. She was’t blaming Satoru, right? No, he was something she couldn’t reach - there was no point in blaming him. She was never blaming him, she was just confused. She had no right to be friendly with something she found annoying.

“Please, Makil. I am begging you.” Yaga grabbed both of her arms, tears streaming down her face. “Ah? Haha, what? This can’t be real, right?” “It’s real, in everything. But right now I need you and Rehin to do the best you can and help these students. Especially Yuji Itadori. I’m sure Gojou will take you to see the other two. But do not mention that the vessel is alive. Got it?”

“Got it.” “Good, he’ll have his grand entrance at the kyoto battle.” “Ha? THAT’S LIKE FOUR DAYS AWAY?” Yaga wiped away Makil’s tears that stained her cheeks. “I know, I’ll give you information on each student. Just bare with me.”

quite curious who this rehin can beeeeeeeee this writing is booooooooooobooooooooooooooo

[miss-mollys-ballet-blog]

Men’s All Around Final Thoughts

Commentary on the men’s AA

I really want the podium to be Dalaloyan, Nigornyy, Ruoteng.  I have a feeling it will not work out in that order.

JOE FRASER IS IN THE TOP ROTATION??!  THAT’S AMAZING!!!!  How wild would it be if he pulled off a miracle and got on the podium...

Dear John Roethlisberger, it is Ukraine, not THE Ukraine.  Please get it right.

NICE JOE, THAT WAS A BEAUTIFUL FLOOR!!!!  WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!

Xiao’s twist at the end is so stunning.  Just...absolutely beautiful.

ALL RIGHT BRODY, AMAZING POMMELS.  YESSSS.

All I want is Nigornyy’s triple pike.  Please let us have it in the floor final.

I do really miss Kenzo’s happy and bright smiling face and energy.  He made everyone smile!

In case anyone was wondering, James Hall is still a precious cupcake.

I love when the men go up into handstands so smoothly during their pommel routines, it makes it so much more interesting.  Sun Wei does it twice before his dismount and it’s stunning.

Nigornyy’s ability to “rescue” his routines, i.e. think on his feet to correct things, is amazing.

Daiki Hashimoto’s flairs are beautiful, but I wish he would point his toes during them.  But that is also nitpicking to the extreme from a girl scared of cartwheels who is watching while eating popcorn so like, don’t listen to me.

DaLaLoYaN iS nOt WhErE hE eXpEcTeD tO bEeEeEeeee.  Homeboy is competing 3 months after he tore his Achilles and has done each event TWICE ALREADY.  SO HE IS DOING PRETTY DAMNED GOOD AND DESERVES ALL THE MEDALS IN THE WORLD.

So sad for Joe :(

Xiao’s swing flips into the cross on rings was flawless oh my goodness.  I couldn’t even pull myself up onto the rings, let alone anywhere near that.

I love Nigornyy’s dismount from rings.  He freaking flies, it’s wild.

Why does Hashimoto’s face look like he’s just sitting and chillin while doing rings?  It’s wild.

I love Artur’s rings, I love Artur’s floor, I love Artur’s pommels, I love Artur’s vault, I love Artur’s parallel bars, and I love Artur’s high bar.  He is an absolute gem and one of the absolute best in the world.  

YES STUCK DRAGALESCU FOR NIKITAAAA WOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

“I’m not quite sure why the man who had Achilles surgery 3 months ago and has done the all around twice already didn’t have the best landing on one of the events that can do the most damage to your ankles and knees”.

I WONDER THE FUCK WHY BRIDGET AND JOHN.  I WONDER WHY.

I find the shoes that the Chinese gymnasts wear during vault so adorable and I don’t know why.

All I really want is for Sam to get an Olympic medal.  Just one.

Oh Brody, this parallel bars is not going right for you and it makes me sad, but you’re still amazing and should feel amazing about yourself.

Hashimoto’s parallel bars oh my word.  Oh. My. Word.  That was beautiful.

ARTUR, YOUR PARALLEL BARS WERE STUNNING AND BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT AND AMAZING PERFECT 10.  I LOVE YOU BBYYYYY.

Sun Wei baby, I hope your wrist is okay :/  Your p-bars were beautiful :)

Yesss Xiao, yesssss!!!  Love your p-bars and it’s gotta be enough for you to keep the lead.

We love Nigornyy’s p-bars too, especially his one bar stuff; absolutely gorgeous.  Everyone is doing so freaking well on p-bars and honestly there are still so many questions and it’s all up in the air and a gigantic nail biter!

James Hall’s landings were all flawless in his floor!!!  Amazing job in the all around, love you!

THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS AND FLAWLESS AND FANTASTIC AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DARLING ARTUR!!!  AMAZING HIGH BAR TO CAP OFF YOUR AMAZING ALL AROUND!!!!

JOE MOTHERFREAKING FRASER WHAT WAS THAT HIGH BAR ROUTINE OH MY GODDDD.  FANTASTIC!!!!

Sun Wei’s one arm pirouette on high bar is gorgeoussss

YES STUCK LANDING XIAO, STUCK FREAKING LANDING TO CAP OFF AN AMAZING HIGH BAR ROUTINE AND AN EVEN BETTER ALL AROUND DAY OMGGGGG.

Oh Nikita, that is not going to be enough to win, BUT there’s no way you don’t medal and you’ve already done so well bby.

CONGRATULATIONS DAIKI HASHIMOTO!!!!!!!

[ananxiousgenz]

FULL REVIEW TIME LETS GO

my apologies today was a wee bit busy

hooo baby this opening has gotta be a teenage buddy she's starting to get that sass we know and love

"at the heart of it all" JAY I AM RATTLING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS SHAKING YOU LIKE A COCKTAIL SHAKER

if buddy's mom had hope.......why did she leave???

so buddy is a story collector!! idk if you know dimension 20, but she reminds me of mother tim goose from neverafter

ODYSSEUS MENTION

awww so the carte blanche was inherited from a regular at the bar that's sweet

UGHHHHHH the whole fact that she came her to continue being captain of her own destiny but now she isn't anymore......... ouchies

she always dreamed of wrangling together a crew of misfits like her and vespa....... the tpp canon is looking away.......

m'tendere is getting a cough!!!! oh no!!!!!

“'I didn’t ask because I was waiting for you to mention it. M’tendere said that you would when you were in enough pain.'” OOOOO SHIT THEY'VE GOT HER NUMBER!!!! BUDDY AURINKO, QUEEN OF THE WORLD, WONT ASK FOR HELP UNTIL SHES ON DEATHS DOOR!!!!!

ohhhh so now she's like the keeper of hell's fire

"It strikes her at some point that while it’s a game to her, it’s a dance to them." that explains like. literally everything about their mentalities and attitudes towards life. buddy is always calculating her chances of winning and m'tendere is always going where the music of life takes them!! (ALSO throwback to man in glass- peter treats thieving like a dance)

AWWWWW JET SMILED!!! buddy loves him. like that description?? she would die for this man she loves him

m'tendere played a final song. they've finished their dance of life. they're taking a bow before the curtain falls. I will bite you.

GOSH buddy I wonder WHY you're thinking about psychopomps when you look at jet??

ODYSSEUS GOT TO GO HOME AND BUDDY DIDNT. BABE THATS BC YOU HAVENT COMPLETED YOUR EPICALLY SHITTY, GOD MANDATED QUEST YET.

she lost her dream. she lost her dream. she lost her dream. sHE LOST HER DREAM-

AND NOW SHES LOSING EVEN THE MEMORY OF VESPA TOO AS SHES LOSING M'TENDERE THATS IT IM OUT OF HERE

oh miss girl you are so delulu and so desperate im so sorry babe they're already gone

"'I have one last one for the road.'" NOO PLEASE. IM CRYING HERE LEAVE ME BEEEEEEEEE

so the key is still getting passed down to jet. what is its purpose in the story?? is it like the song of spring??? OOOOOO OR is it a song that unlocks the gates to the underworld????

OUGHOUGHHOUGHHHHH IM SOBBING IM SOBBING WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE WOULD DO ANYTHING TO HAVE M'TENDERE SEE HER CRY ANOTHER DAY

NOOOOOOO FUCK THEYRE GONE. THEYRE GONE. I KNEW IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN BUT IT STILL HURTS!!!!

yeahhhhhh so buddy is the keeper of the key and the fire now!!!! that's a fuckin banger title to have ngl

there was so much here to dissect I definitely missed something but everything I caught was SOOOOOO GOOOOOOD

Out in the Cold Field, pt. iv

I always finish these it seems at 2am. Huh. Now go fetch! @ananxiousgenz @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @demonic-panini @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde @the-private-eye

“What do you know about Pandora?”

“Wife to Epimetheus, beautiful, sculpted by the Gods, the perfect lady, had a vase she was told to never shatter, super curious, so she unleashed all the evil in the world… I sense a lesson coming.”

“Pandora did a lot more than just bring evils into the world. Do you know why the Gods made her?”

“Punishment I presume? Everything always harkens back to punishment.”

“She was a punishment from the Gods to man. A God who made humans stole for us fire. They chained him to a rock, and every day a vulture would come and pick at his liver, and every day he would suffer immense pain and regenerate. The Gods made Pandora then to punish humanity.”

“Why would they do that? They knew the culprit, they sorted them out, so why continue and drag it out onto the rest of us? Isn't that some sort of war crime?”

“Today, yes. Back then, there was no such thing.”

“Mmm… I guess that explains a lot of things. Wasn’t there also one good thing left behind? Hope?”

“In some retellings, yes.”

“Mom’s books say there was hope. She circled and underlined it a bunch.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“If the evils were a punishment, and hope was trapped inside the jar with them… the evil things were a message. There is no way to escape, outsmart, outtrick, or outlive the Gods. There is no escape. And hope… can always be there. At the heart of it all. Hope is also a will of the Gods. Just like everything else that was in the vase.”

“Smarter than me, as bright as your mother. Well done, солнышко моё.”

Growing up, Buddy had very few friends her age. The ones she did have were either scared off by Palomine, or scared off by Buddy. It left her an awful lot of time alone. Time that she spent reading and studying. Time that she spent hanging around the countertop of Palomine’s bar, asking the other patrons to share with her one of their stories. And oftentimes he would find her and shoo her upstairs, handing out complimentary drinks as apologies. Occasionally he wouldn't find her and occasionally she got to hear stories beyond her comprehension. 

That was how she heard about the Carte Blanche. A regular of her father's came in and sat down at the bar. A younger Buddy Aurinko slid up next to them and talked about Odysseus. She knew the epic as well as the back of her hand but never wrapped her head around it quite right. The regular she sat with however was good conversation and explained it very easily. Their patience for her temper proved something wrong about Palomine.

The regular listened to her like always and laughed in her face when she said that she would have never returned home if she were Odysseus. They asked if she had ever stepped foot on a ship before and offered to show her theirs. Buddy readily agreed. 

It was a week-long trek to reach the port they had docked in. And, at the time, the Carte Blanche went by a different name. Its sails were a drab cream color and the bow had a half naked siren strapped to the front. She was hideous. Buddy fell in love instantly. 

That regular died suddenly four years later. Their wife found Buddy at the bar and slid to her a will. They wanted you to travel the seas. They hoped that someday you would find your Penelope. 

She spent months scraping barnacles off the haul and removing that damn siren from the bow. The sails were the easiest to replace. The days of cream colored past were behind them now. Navy blue sails brought her all around Hellas Basin. The end of an era. The winds were changing and the seasons were rolling into each other as Buddy finished painting her ship's new name, Carte Blanche. 

Now she was Captain of her own ship. She left Palomine to take control of her future, to reign in her own destiny, and now here she was. Captain of her own ship, of her own life, her own destiny. Finally out from her father’s reach– except she wasn’t allowed to die. And her life wasn’t hers alone to dictate anymore, not so long as Jet and M’tendere were with her… And Palomine had tried to bargain for his life with hers… And she’s going back to the bar where she left him four months ago. 

The voyage to the Cerberus Province was lonely and cold. Buddy had always dreamed of wrangling together a crew of misfits like her and Vespa to sail Hellas Basin with. She dreamed of someday retiring and growing old with Vespa. Getting to sit under their own vine and fig tree. Relaxing in the shade together, at home with the knowledge that they had put their best foot forward. That they had tried to better the lives of people like them, and given their best efforts for someone else’s chance of survival. 

On the third night aboard the Blanche, M’tendere sings Buddy and Jet part of a song. They call it their Key.

“It sounds lovely darling.” 

“Thank you,” M’tendere strums their guitar a bit more. “If there’s a song you’d like me to play, I will happily play it for you, Captain.”

“Please, call me Buddy.”

“No can do, Captain. Jet and I are guests on your ship. You invited us on board and you’re helping me smuggle fire away from Hadestown. The least I can do is show you a bit of respect.”

On the fifth night, Jet stands at the helm of the ship. One hand planted on the wheel, the other holding the lamp. The fire inside has been burning now for almost two weeks straight. Possibly longer. M’tendere never answers her when she asks how and when they stole the fire. 

Speak of the devil, they’re turning out to be pretty bad at the whole sailing thing. Jet is a natural. M’tendere… would have probably faired better taking a month to skirt around Hellas Basin avoiding the road and tracks to Hadestown than ever stepping foot on the Blanche. For now M’tendere has kept to the lower deck. Much darker and damper, they’re starting to develop a cough. Jet doesn’t seem worried, so until he is neither will Buddy. 

Buddy slides up next to Jet, two of M’tendere’s scarves wrapped around her throat. 

“Your fingers are white.” She glances at Jet and back down at her hands. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner? If you knew this whole time, why hold off? If you care so deeply about my health–”

“I didn’t ask because I was waiting for you to mention it. M’tendere said that you would when you were in enough pain.” He pauses, and if it were locked into other season and Buddy any other person, she might have turned a beautiful shade of pink. “I care for your health, Buddy, because you are alone. You are walking a dark path, one that I have beared witness others walk before, and it never ends the way you or they hope.”

She scoffs, “Oh don’t be ridiculous, I’m not like other people. You don’t know the first thing about me. We hardly know each other.”

Jet nods passing off the lamp to her. Buddy accepts it without a second thought and for a brief moment, she thinks she might have caught hint of a smile. 

“You’re right, we don’t.” 

A long stretch of silence wraps around them. Eventually the pain in Buddy’s joints makes itself known. She bids Jet a fair night and descends to the lower deck to join M’tendere. They greet her with a cough and refuse to accept the lamp. For the rest of the night Buddy keeps it close to warm her hands.

On the ninth day, the seas are rough tossing the Blanche around. Buddy steers, while Jet stands on the bow keeping an eye out for rocks. 

That night it’s calm enough that M’tendere joins them above deck. They play a few songs intermittently asking Buddy questions in between. It strikes her at some point that while it’s a game to her, it’s a dance to them. 

“How long have you been sailing?”

“Only a few years. How long have you and Jet been traveling together?”

“We travel separately most of the time. You got found at a very lucky and rare time when we’re stuck together.”

“M’tendere asked me to help them fulfill their dream.”

“Oh really? And what is your dream?”

M’tendere sighs and leans back against the mast. Their head tilts at an awkward angle searching for constellations in the sky. “I wanted to help people. Balance out all the bad things that I’ve done in the name of Hades.” 

So you stole fire goes unsaid. Just like Promethus.

“What is your dream, Buddy?” She looks up at Jet, who again has claimed his spot at the helm. Her damn ship that half the time she doesn’t even get to man anymore. 

“My dream?” She chuckles, “I wanted to help people. Give back, uplift, and empower. But that time has come to pass now. What’s done is done they say… What is your dream, Jet? Don’t suppose it’s also to help people?”

“How disappointed would you be if I said it is?” This time, she does get to watch him smile. It’s bright and glorious and could fill up a whole room. And when Buddy laughs, M’tendere does too. They break into a coughing fit that lasts longer than usual. Again, Jet does not seem concerned. Despite this, Buddy tries not to either. M’tendere plays a final song that night, Their Key, and heads down to rest. 

In the morning there is a thick sheet of ice that formed on the bow. Buddy takes a crack at it using part of an old rusted anchor. She instructed Jet to search for an ice pick in the cargo hold. M’tendere hasn’t moved a muscle. It’s fine. Just four more days. They can rest. 

Jet emerges from the belly of the beast. Buddy steps aside to allow him to take over. 

The voyage to the Cerberus Province was lonely and cold. Had she not died somehow without Jet or M’tendere’s aid, the return trip back would’ve been no different. It would have been harder. It would have been colder. She might have actually died. 

“Jet,” he stops mid-swing to look back at her, “ask me again. Ask me again why I want to die.”

He turns towards her, rolling his shoulders back, standing at full height. Grimly, she is reminded of depictions of psychopomps in her mother’s old texts. Shadowy figures that slip on billowing robes. Some with animal heads. Others so handsome and flawless that they had to be immortal. But when she blinks the winter sun bathes Jet in cool light. Chasing away the shadows on Jet’s face, bringing into focus his heavy leather winter coat. Scars his hands remind her that he bleeds too. 

“Buddy Aurinko.” She takes a deep breath. The voyage was to the Cerberus Province was cold and lonely… “What happened to make you want to die?” 

They say it took Odysseus 20 years to journey home. 10 years fighting the Trojans, and 10 years lost at sea. When he returned home, he returned in disguise to win his wife’s hand in marriage and scare off the competition. He accomplished a little more than that, but he had his wife. He got back his Penelope.

The voyage to the Cerberus Province was cold because it shouldn’t have been made alone. Odysseus fought and won the war. Odysseus got to go home to be with the one he loved. Buddy Aurinko, wouldn’t even get so much as a final goodbye.

“I lost someone. I lost– I lost Vespa. I lost her and my dream and I can’t bear a life without her.” She wipes the stinging tears from here eyes. She turns her back and walks away. Not once did she let Palomine see her cry, Vespa only saw her cry in joy, and she wasn’t about to start sobbing a second time in front of Jet. 

Buddy plants herself at the helm and watches Jet resume chipping away at the ice. Just four more days. Just four more days.

That night she sits with M’tendere on the lowest deck. The scarves they loaned to her are rolled up tight to support their neck. They wheeze with each breath. In the relative quiet, she tries to think back to what Vespa would do. What Vespa would say. 

“Goddess hands, guide me.” She mutters under her breath as she clasps M’tendere’s thin wrist to count their heartbeat. There has to be something. Anything. If Vespa were here she would know what to do and how to treat them. She would probably say something like… like…

Vespa’s voice is slipping from her mind. Goddess forgive her. What would go next? Her face? Her touch? Rough lips on soft skin. Green has never been her color but it always belonged to Vespa.  

"Captain," Buddy does not flinch as M'tendere's body seizes into a coughing fit. The end is near. Death approaches. She has always hated goodbyes, and loathed letting go. How could she when all the people she lets herself love die in the end? She refuses to believe it, wants to object like Jet did. You can’t be dying yet, we have four more days until we dock.

She swallows a lump forming in her throat and nods. "Keep your strength. I'll fetch Jet." She pats M'tendere's cheek and heads up to the main deck of the Carte Blanche. They have at most four more days until they can dock at the harbor. And another week maybe before a doctor can come. Just four more. Four more and one week… They don't have a week though. Or four more days.

"Jet," Buddy finds him again chipping ice off the bow. He looks up. It's hard to read his expression buried underneath all his layers. "It's M’tendere." He nods and goes to her office to retrieve M'tendere's precious instrument.

When he makes it to their bedside, Buddy has them propped up by every linen blanket and wool stuffed pillow they have on board. Jet offers the instrument but they shake their head. M'tendere has never refused to play them a song. They promised they always would. I’ll happily play it for you, Captain. Nothing would make her happier now than to hear their strong voice. 

"I have one last one for the road." They suppress a cough and wipe blood from the corner of their mouth. "My Key."

Once upon a time M'tendere's voice used to lull Buddy to sleep. The voice of an angel. And now, wrecked by pneumonia, it's little more than a frogs croak. She surprises herself still able to recall what that sounds like.

M'tendere sings and hums a quiet peaceful tune. Tears roll freely down Buddy's cheeks. She never allowed her father to see her cry. She would move mountains though to allow M'tendere to see her cry another day.

A second voice picks up the tune. Quieter, deeper. She glances at Jet and finds him plucking the strings of M'tendere's guitar. Finding the right chords. They point and smile when he gets it right.

Four days later, Jet and Buddy Aurinko dock on the other side of Hellas Basin. A snowstorm picks up keeping them cooped on board the Carte Blanche for another week with a decaying corpse. Neither of them speaks much, not even a whistled tune. 

The town they docked in is on the outskirts of Hyperion City. A couple of days worth of travel through the snow and they’ll reach Palomine’s bar soon enough. For now, Buddy takes down her navy blue sails and sells them for a quick cred. With that money, she rents them a small room on land to stay in. The whole time she keeps M’tendere’s little fire clutched close to her chest. Humming their key.