One Of The Best Father Daughter Duos

DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO LONGER BE ACTIVE IN. IF THE STORY IS STILL UP LET THEM KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS IT MIGHT JUST BE THE REMINDER THAT MAKES THEIR DAY.

SINCERELY SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT A REPLY THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST

the very few drawings i did that i still like

"Girls like it when men ignore em"

LIEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS

I WANT THAT MAN OBSESSED WITH ME

I WANT HIM THINKING ABOUT ME LIKE A PRAYER, EVERY BREATH, EVERY MOVE, EVERY CHOICE HE MAKES ANCHORED TO ME. I WANT HIM LOSING SLEEP BECAUSE THE IDEA OF ME IS TOO LOUD IN HIS HEAD TO LET HIM REST. I WANT HIM TO LOOK AT ME LIKE I’M THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS—LIKE THE WORLD COULD BURN TO ASHES AROUND US AND HE WOULDN’T CARE AS LONG AS I’M STILL STANDING THERE.

I WANT HIM TO SPEAK MY NAME LIKE IT’S SACRED, TO LOOK AT ME LIKE I HOLD THE UNIVERSE IN MY HANDS. TO BE HAUNTED BY THE SOUND OF MY LAUGH, THE TRACE OF MY SCENT ON HIS SKIN, THE MEMORY OF MY TOUCH. I WANT HIS OBSESSION TO BORDER ON MADNESS, TO FEEL ME IN EVERY PART OF HIM LIKE A HUNGER HE CAN’T EVER SATISFY.

I WANT TO BE HIS FIRST THOUGHT

I love angsty fics, I really do.

But not "my dog died" or "I feel insecure" kinda angst. I'm talking about the cheating, the break up, the suffering, the tears, the begging, the pining, the stalking, the obsession UGHHHH, love me a fic where he fucked up and now has to do the most to get her back, it gives me a serotonin boost

skin and bones

REAL

This came to me in a vision

relationships and jobs are temporary. your shitty unpopular tumblr blog is forever

not to be a whore or anything, buuut...

I want some femboy x female readers.

just sayin-

I’ll be crying for a week now.

This masterpiece, I won't forget.

painter!scaramouche x gn!reader

summary: he paints you everyday, just to remember the face he had long forgotten.

- 906 words and 4,842 characters.

warnings!: implied death, slight spoilers to sumeru archon quest (?)

you took care of kabukimono. teaching him household chores, letting him live with you and all those kind actions that made him trust you. but just like every other of his companions and just like any other mortal, they die at the end. what did he expect? kabukimono always thought he was betrayed. leaving him? just like that? just like the rest? he knew it- you were no different- he assumed and believed such foolish thoughts. but that was because he was too naive. he realized only now that you truly cared for him. otherwise why would you waste your time to entertain a stranger like him? teaching him all kinds of emotions. why would you even accept him to your home? to the point he could call it his home as well? guilt builds up in his throat, he regrets everything everyday. but his biggest regret--

...is that he can't remember your face.

how long has it been since he last saw your face? a hundred- no, more than that, probably. several hundred years has passed since he last saw the face that saved him. saved him from internal emptiness. despite having no heart, every memory of you fills his chest with a warm, stuffy feeling. a bright smile coming from you in every memory. oh how he wishes to see your face. despite barely remembering what you look like, he paints you. every. single. day.

the moment he went from the balladeer to wanderer, he looked back to the past he tried so hard to escape even when you were included in his past. another one of his regrets it seems. all his paintings of you were never finished. he just can't get it right. he knows paintings aren't enough to replicate your radiance, but why does it not give off your vibe-- not even a bit? but still. he tries. he tries anyway. he continues to paint his memories of you. he remembers all the warm memories, every detail but just not... your face. it seems. in his paintings, your face is either blurry, scribbled at-- out of frustration probably--, or a face that doesn't resemble you at all. scaramouche wishes he would remember.

he thinks of every possibe way he could to remember you. asking the traveler, nahida, heck- even al-haitham for archon's sake! but it all leads to one thing. irminsul. he got his memories back from irminsul, so what are the chances? he went to irminsul. nahida didn't even hesitate to let him go because she for sure, already knows the reason why he wants his memories back. he doesn't pray to archons. he doesn't want to. but if... just if there's a slight chance of remembering your face. even if it's just a glimpse of it. he would even go as far as to beg to the archons.

he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and remembering. deeply focused, he could hear fire crackling. maybe a little bit too loud. oh. too loud. and all of a sudden he sees a burning house. no- a home. his home. your home. he took steps closer to inspect it. 'this is definitely a memory' he thinks to himself. he had forgotten it though. impossible. what could it be in this memory that would make him forget it? especially if it included you- oh.

a faint call for help, slowly fading through the smile you let out. underneath all the burning rubbles, you were there. in a life and death situation. scaramouche now remembers. the one memory he wished he never did remember, even if it included you. the memory of you dying. now, you were a mortal. you dying wasn't really the reason why he wished to forget this memory. it was all because of another regret. he regrets it that he left you there. if he only took a step closer to you and lend his hand for you just like you did for him, maybe you could've been with him right now. but he didn't. at that moment he hated you. resented you. he was far too greedy. how many betrayals has it been? he swore he had good memory but there's no use to keeping track of things like this. he was too naive. when he was out there resenting you with his whole body, leaving you to death- you never hated him. until the very end of your life, you never did. why didn't you scream at him? tell him to go die? why did you smile? you were dying but you still smiled. at him. truly, every memory of you has your smile. this wasn't the way he wanted to remember your face, no. but if there was no other choice then, what could he possibly do? he regrets everything. but now he could finally paint your face. paint the smile that kept him safe and sane the way he is now.

alas, a painting of you is finally finished. just like how he filled in an empty part of your face in his painting, you once again has filled his empty chest with this warm, stuffy feeling. is it comfort? love? the feeling of security? he doesn't know. but what he does know is that he will continue to paint you for eternity. he will paint you until there is no more paint to paint with. until there is no more space in his canvas. because he doesn't want to forget you again. he doesn't want to regret anything, ever again. he truly regrets everything--

...but you.

Fanfiction is great because I'm a greedy slut that wants it all. Nothing you could ever give me in a TV show would achieve the high I get when I've got 13 au's all on the go at once with bonus fanart on the side, like the most luxurious multiple course meal with wine pairings curated just to my taste