#I will write more but my brain needs a break

[monster-disaster]

i’ve been really insecure abt my appearance which is just making my depression even worse. would you please be able to write something with a ghost or shadow monster bf comforting the reader in both a fluffy and smutty way?? no rush for this btw😊😊

ghost!boyfriend x human!Reader Good to know: angsty with comforting boyfriend, smut

A/N: I hope my story gives you a moment of peace and comfort. :)

By the time you arrive home, take a shower, and settle in front of the TV, you are exhausted and ready to do nothing for the rest of the night. You are utterly spent, both physically and mentally. You are at your limits and unsure how to take back your control of your own self. The reins slip out of your fingers no matter how tight you try to hold them.

There are days when you feel content and happy in your own skin, savoring the world and its offerings. These days, though cherished, are often very fleeting. Sometimes, sometimes more often than you would like, you have to face the difficult days when everything seems to go awry. The world around you feels too tight, pressing in from all sides to the point you can barely stand underneath it with your own overwhelming thoughts. These days demand more from you than you feel capable of giving. On these days, you need more strength and understanding, but it's not always so simple. It barely ever is.

You are nestled on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. The soothing scent of your favorite lotions lingers, and your freshly laundered pajamas are soft against your skin. The blue glow of the TV illuminates your small living room, casting a gentle hue over the furniture. The aroma of your favorite takeout on the coffee table drifts through the air. Though your stomach rumbles, you remain still. There is not a single fiber in your body that you can make to move; instead, you melt even further into the pillows behind you.

Sometimes, it's easier to take care of yourself physically than mentally, although definitely not always.

There are days, or even weeks when you can go above and beyond to break free from the shadows of your mind, but it's still not enough. Your brain remains trapped in this gloomy, exhausting place where nothing is enough and everything is too much. You don't do enough, and you are not good enough, while the world is too much, and sometimes you are too much, and even though you know deep down that it's not true, it's hard to remind yourself every now and again and again. These fights with your own mind leave you drained and spent.

Fortunately, you don't have to face these days alone.

You never have to be alone when you are at home.

You sense his presence long before you feel his touch or see the gentle shift of your blanket as he slips beside you. His presence wraps around you like a second layer, clinging to your skin with a warmth that sends tingles through your body. A relieved sigh leaves your lips, and you snuggle closer to the comforting feeling seeping into your bones.

"I'm fine," you break the silence. The memory of your exhale lingers in your words. His disapproval is clear and heavy in the air. You curl into yourself even more. "I will be fine," you correct yourself after a few seconds. You don't have to hear or see your ghost to know what he wants. You just know it.

The plastic container on the coffee table moves closer, but you shake your head, pulling the cover tighter around yourself. "I will eat it later." Another wave of disapproval washes over you, but he leaves the topic for now. Instead, his presence envelopes you even more, curling around your body and settling over your shoulders. Your eyelids fall shut at the caressing motion through your hair, massaging your scalp and drawing small circles on the nape of your neck.

Pulling your legs closer to your chest, you rest your head on the back of the couch. "Thank you," you hum.

"I don't know what went wrong today."

The moment you opened your eyes this morning, you knew you would have to face one of those days when your mind acts like your enemy while you try to drag yourself through your chores with heavy limbs and an even heavier chest. The clouds were dark and thick above your head all day, and nothing you did chased them away.

"I'm just tired," you tell him while the TV goes on in the background.

You tried to make your day better, to make yourself feel better, but it was a lost cause from the moment you looked at yourself in the mirror. Nothing felt right as you stared at your own reflection, finding every flaw with merciless criticism and unforgiveness. Your skin felt too tight, and your features looked too wrong. You changed your clothes again and again and again, but nothing was good enough. It seemed like every one of your dresses and blouses and trousers highlighted all the wrong things in all the wrong ways.

"I know they are not true," you continue, motioning to your head. "My thoughts, I mean. But it's so hard to make myself believe in the opposite."

The invisible hands go down from your hair to your neck and to the soft curve that leads to your shoulders. Fingers dig into your skin through your shirt, rubbing against your muscles. You lean forward automatically, letting your head dip to your chest with a soft sigh. The hands slip to your shoulder blades, following the straight line of your spine and spreading out to find every soreness and knot.

"Thank you," you break the silence after a while, keeping your eyes closed. You can feel yourself gradually relax under your ghost's ministrations. You know your problems won't solve themselves because of a massage, but right now, they move back to the back of your mind, letting you breathe again after a whole day.

You are ready to fall asleep just like that, sitting with your legs crossed when his hands slip under your shirt like a light summer breeze. Your back straightens immediately, and you reach out to grab and stop nothing. Your fingers curl into your palm. Your nails dig into the soft flesh there.

The air freezes for a second. "Wait!" You gasp.

For a long moment, nothing happens. "I-" You want to say something to break the tension, but your words get stuck in your throat when the warm sensation from your side glides to your hand. You can feel his fingers slipping through yours as he lifts your arm into the air, and soon, you can feel his lips brushing over your knuckles.

You still don't know how a ghost can make you feel so much, but you welcome it gratefully.

He plants soft kisses on your hand until you calm down, and he can continue his way under your clothes. The soft fabric falls to the couch beside you silently after a few minutes. He moves slowly and carefully, letting you melt against the pillows behind you once again while the warmth of his touch creeps over your sides to find rest on your bare breasts. He cups the soft globes, stroking his thumbs back and forth over your nipples.

You know he is behind you, kissing up and down on your neck while groping your tits and caressing your heated skin. Your back arches, pushing yourself into his palms even more, and your mind is blank and hazy with pleasure. Shivers run through your spine with every circling motion and gentle tug on your nipples. By the time he decides to wander lower on your body, they are swollen and sensitive, and every small stroke and brush feels like a strike through your body.

Your breathing is heavy and ragged. Your legs open on their own when his hand slips under your pants and panties. Your head falls back on the couch, and an impatient moan escapes your lips. His fingertips brush over your slit teasingly, smearing your wetness all over your pussy before finding your clit. He draws small circles on your aching bud, making your hips grind against his invisible touch as you chase your rapidly approaching pleasure. You can feel your climax building. The familiar knot is hot and burning in your stomach.

"Please." Your plea is soft on your tongue in the quiet room.

Your ghost rubs and flicks your clit faster and faster. Your muscles tense, and your whole body jolts when he pushes you over the edge without any warning. Your world spins as you reach your climax with another mewl. It surges through your veins, urging your heart to flutter against your ribcage. 

His lips are warm on your forehead as he kisses you while you are still panting and trying to recover.

And not even a second later, your food on the coffee table is pushed closer to you again.

Your laugh is weak and amused. "Okay, okay. I will eat."

You know your problems don't magically disappear because of an orgasm. The battles and demons that haunt you are still with you somewhere deep in your mind, demanding your attention and energy time and time again even when you feel too tired and weak to face them, but right now, the darkness of the night falls easier on your shoulders, and you know tomorrow will be another day. Maybe a better day, maybe not, but either way, you won't be alone.

So, you let yourself rest tonight, embracing the peace of the world and your mind.

#sweet asks #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster smut #terat0philliac #teratophillia #exophelia #ghost x human

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ here’s to hoping (cause i can’t stop calling) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.1k

summary: gojo calls, and you spend it half-wishing you weren’t broken up. 

contains: gn!reader, exes to ???, alcohol, mentions of going to the club, gojo is bad at being an ex, complicated feelings, ambiguous ending, kind of hurt/comfort. 

a/n: writing this as my copium, i haven’t written gojo outside of col in so long so this was challenging, but equally as exciting! some songs that inspired this are: better than this - lauv & oh, gemini - role model.

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: calling your ex drunk at two a.m. with feelings still stuck in your throat

“Well, well, well… miss me already?”

The clock on your kitchen wall reads some time between 2:05 and 2:10. Even when you squint, the little lines remain a drunken blur. 

You blame it on the alcohol. 

“Don’t be shy now.” the voice on your phone continues, shaking you out of focus. 

Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

Had you been any more sober, the throbbing in your head wouldn’t have persisted from the sound of—

“Gojo–” you sigh. 

“Satoru.” he interrupts, a full pause before he continues, softer, “It’s Satoru, remember?” 

Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t have even answered his call. 

You haul your bag up sluggishly, the chains of the strap clacking against your countertop. Patience is a ticking time bomb when you’re this inebriated, the heavy bass from earlier tonight still thumping its way within your brain. 

You can’t think straight. 

“Satoru,” a name now foreign but still so close to home; it burns on your tongue, trickles bittersweet down your throat, “you called. What do you need?” 

It’s stupid of you to ask, you know, because Gojo’s been calling you like this since the day you broke up months ago. You’d picked up the first few times, but quickly realized that it wasn’t good for the both of you—you’d never move on, and Gojo would never let you go. 

Except—

“You picked up.” 

—liquor makes for poor company when it only serves to soften the anger you’ve built up as protection. It really is all the alcohol’s fault. 

Your eyes burn as you squeeze them shut, sighing, a twisted exhale, “You have to stop, Satoru.” 

“Stop what?” he feigns, the lilt at the end a sure sign of the most insufferable smirk. 

The thought of it makes you sick, makes you ache with memories of pinching his nose at the sight of it. He used to giggle then; now, he chuckles on the other end. 

That’s the question, isn’t it? Stop what?

Since the break-up, Gojo’s been acting like nothing’s changed. He still calls you just as much, still texts you with undertones that tread the fine line between flirty and ‘just Gojo’. Your toiletries are still at his apartment, and his clothes are still in your closet. 

You’d find humor in it if not for the fact that all of it has been so goddamn confusing.

He started it; he broke up with you. 

Shouldn’t he be pushing you away? 

To this day, you have no full closure, no other reason other than an ‘it’s better this way’ followed by a continuous stream of mixed signals because how he treats you is still the same. 

“Stop calling,” a lump forms in your throat, an admission you’ve had to remind yourself again and again, “we’re not together anymore.”

“I can’t call a friend?” 

You snort, fiddling with the metal links of your bag strap, “Is that what we are?” 

A pause. Slippers shifting on floorboards. They sound just like the sleepless nights he’d shuffle out of bed. 

You can picture him on the other end, head tilted and leant back on the plush leather of his couch. He hums but doesn’t answer you—he never does when it can mean something. 

“You still sound the same.” 

And you don’t expect it at this moment, to get so choked up over how he sounds over radio waves, but he says the words a little too fondly for you not to notice. Gojo’s always teased that he can pinpoint your voice from the moment you speak the first word.

You don’t mean to give him any more authority over your feelings than he already has, but the words slip out before you can catch yourself, “You’re being unfair.”  

Another hum. His tone shifts to something lighter, more teasing, “Like you aren’t. Always typing, never sending…”

The huff that punctuates his sentences paints itself vividly with a small pout. 

“Stop staring at my chat box then.” is all you can muster, the ache spreading throughout your chest. 

“Afraid I can’t.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“You’re impossible.” your eyes begin to feel wet, your sniffle concealing itself as you clear your throat. 

The silence that follows is uncharacteristic of your relationship with Gojo, even more of the man you know, but you find it filled to the brim with all the possibilities of what went wrong—of things you know he’ll never say out loud.

You know Gojo has issues; they presented themselves well enough in the year you were together. Being with him is accepting that you’ll be reading between the lines your entire life. 

He is simultaneously touchy but distant, vocal but elusive in his affections; he drapes himself over you every chance he gets, but when you touch him in places no one else has, you think a storm swirls cyan in his irises. Gojo gives compliments like candies on Halloween, but he keeps his feelings close to his chest, locked away like presents tightly wrapped under a Christmas tree. 

This is why you never saw it coming. 

This is why there was no hint, no sign of him ever wanting to break things off when he did.

‘Let’s stop dating’ with no warning. 

“Had fun tonight?” he asks so casually, like it doesn’t tell you a million things—how he still has your location on his phone, how he’s still checking on you, Six Eyes or not. 

Tonight was okay, all things considered. You don’t go to clubs often, but your friends kept you company; the music boomed just a tad bit louder than you’re used to, and the drinks were good, but—

“You would have hated it.” 

If Gojo were there, you would have stayed 10 minutes tops. He’d whine about being bored but you’d be able to tell, from the slight furrow of his brows and the clenching of his jaw that it’s because one of his migraines is forming. 

“Good thing I’d have you, then.”��

There are half-truths in jokes like this, a dangerous thing to say when you both know he could still have you if he wanted.

“Stop flirting, it’s annoying.” you try to steel your voice, pushing down the false hope rising in your chest. 

“You love it, though.”

The pain sears you, hurts when he says the word so lightly, as if he isn’t aware that you know love is the reason he had to break things off prematurely. As if he doesn’t know that you’re still in love with him, that you’re still putting faith in a tragedy. 

“Do you even know what loving something feels like?” 

The line remains silent, save for the softest sound of his breath hitching. 

You must have hit a nerve. 

He hums, an expected answer, but then he mumbles, words spoken so faintly, so quietly, you’re surprised they even came through. 

“Yeah, I do.”

a/n: wanted to use this as dialogue practice because i think gojo’s dialogue is one of the trickiest to nail! i also found it so fun exploring this kind of dynamic with him!! i subtly hint on some of gojo’s personal issues but don’t explicitly state it to leave room for interpretation! the ending is ambiguous for that same reason.

thank you notes: @stellamancer for helping me out so much with this 🥺 practically beta-ing it, really 🥺 ily niku 🥺 in my head, gojo does not exist without you 🥺 & @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @scarabrat @soumies for being my lil cheerleaders always 🥺 ily all 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #gojo x you #gojo x yn #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x y/n #shotorus.writes #shotorus.events #in's and out's event

[strwbrythoughts]

time's up | dr. veritas ratio

The doctor - also known as your husband - has come to refine your problem-solving skills, particularly in mathematics.

A/N: This man is insufferable but I simp because smart + muscles = hot!!! Also can you see me projecting onto this and wdym i don't like triangles, ngl i accidentally switched to first person pov at the ending 💀 this is why i need to find time to write in my busy busy schedule

Divider by @/osqrie

"You have 15 minutes to solve these questions. You may begin."

The soft click of the digital stopwatch in his right hand sounded louder than ever to your ears. Your eyes went from his soft, smiling face - which in itself, was a rarity - towards the questions printed on the single sheet of white, A4-sized paper on your desk. They were all mathematics equations. Every single one was an integration-related question.

You always thought that you could escape the topics you didn't like after finishing your studies in the undergraduate level. Life had been pretty smooth-sailing after graduation; you opened a cute and cozy bakery, you married a genius, lived in a comfortable home, have and maintain a loving relationship...but this. This was the least of what you would expect. Being tutored and tested on the one subject you refused to take back in university.

Or perhaps it was your mistake when you told him your weak points in the academic aspect of yourself. That was a side effect of marrying a genius, you supposed...or a 'Mundanite' as he would use to refer to himself.

But you couldn't think of that now. You had a test to complete, and you didn't want to receive his punishment for not being able to do so within the given timeframe. His eyes could be felt on you, as if burning into your body and directly gazing at the very essence of your soul. The rise in your heartbeat and downturned gaze highlighted how nervous you felt to answer this paper.

After taking a deep breath to clear your head, you observed the questions carefully. There were 3 questions, and all of them were pretty easy to solve (or at least, that was what the instructions said). The first two questions were fine; only including polynomials and exponents respectively. As you got to the third question though...you couldn't say it was 'fine'.

It included one of your most disliked topics...trigonometry.

Granted, the trigonometry was pretty simple, but you never seemed to be able to wrap your head around how so many formulas could be derived from them. When Veritas explained it to you in one of your tutoring sessions, you asked for more breaks than usual since you had put a barrier in your mind; 'I will never understand this'; which in turn, made the topic seemed harder than it actually was.

The soft 'ding!' of the bell on my desk reminded you that you had five minutes left for this last question. You gulped, hoping your nervousness would be swallowed away as well. His eyes were glued to the back of your head; not that you dared to look behind my shoulder at the moment.

Every second counts after all, even if you had no clue what steps you should take to solve the problem on the paper.

Your brain seemed to malfunction and your memorisation skills failed you right this moment. You didn't remember the basic formulas, and you didn't know how to derive them from the triangles either. With no viable options left, you decided to unleash your expertise; cooking up your own theories.

'Ah, he's definitely punishing me for this...' was the only thought floating in your brain. Autopilot mode was switched on, and your hand glided across the paper, writing down whatever nonsense that seemed to be related to trigonometry, regardless whether they were correct or not.

The digital stopwatch in Veritas' hand had reached its last minute; the fifteenth minute. "Time's up," his voice bounced off the white walls right into your ears. "Put down your pen and stop writing."

Although reluctant, you did not wish for a heavier punishment. His words were followed by the sound of the pen being put onto the wooden desk. Within seconds, he was stood right next to your desk, using his index finger and thumb to pick up the piece of paper.

His eyes scanned my answers, going from left to right as he inspected each line of working. There was a faint smile on his lips...until it was gone.

Gulp.

He had definitely seen the absolute mess you made on the last question.

A slam onto the wooden desk; you swore you heard the wood crack a little bit. "Did I not teach you this last question?" You could barely reply. His tone was dripping with condescension, but you didn't take offence from it. Both you and him knew he had the right intentions, but his ways wouldn't be able to satisfy everyone.

"You did! I...I just didn't like it."

Veritas let out a 'tsk' thrice, seeming almost animated as he did so. "You do know what you have to do now, right? So come on, what are you waiting for? Is time not ticking?" He took a seat on his chair, eyes looking straight into mine.

You sighed, preparing your facial muscles...as you climbed into his lap. Ah yes, the 'one hundred kisses or you're not leaving this room' punishment. A classic, really. Your lips peppered his face, landing on each part like the first snow of winter; gentle and heartwarming.

"Lunchtime is nearing, so you better carry out your responsibility quickly and dutifully, dear. You'd hate to have lunch at 4 PM again, hm?"

Ah, crap! He was right! Better get to work now!

Thank you for reading!

#berry writes #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x reader #hsr veritas

[verysanebsdfan]

My favs x bday!reader

Saiki Kusuo (the disastrous life of saiki k), Muichiro Tokito (demon slayer), Killua Zoldyck (hunter x hunter), Neuvillette(genshin impact), Dazai Osamu (bungo stray dogs), our!Ciel Phantomhive (black butler) (seperately) x bday!reader

Synopsis: them with s/o who has birthday, how they celebrate, what do they do etc.

Notes: IT'S MY BDAY GUYSSS!!! I honestly wanna go back to being a little child, but oh well, i still have a few years. probably contains grammatical errors but oh well. not proofread. Am I happy with it? no. Am I gonna publish this? absolutely. i also wanted to include Bram Stoker from bsd but my brain was blank and i had no ideasss :((

cw: none i think?

☆*: .｡. o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. o .｡.:*☆*: .｡. o .｡.:*☆

Saiki Kusuo:

Would not make you a surprise party, but i feel like he would buy you your favourite cake, pastry, sweets, snack...just something that he know would make you happy. Nothing extravagant, just an average present, from an average guy. It's the thought that counts<3 Would like to spend some quality time with you, but if you wanna hang out with friends or spend time with family, he doesnt mind. He would make sure everything goes smoothly and you would be safe tho<3 Prolly wouldnt make a big deal out of this...It is just birthday after all, but he loves to see you happy soo<3

Happy birthday y/n...i hope you like the (favourite dessert) i got you

Muichiro Tokito:

It really depends, if you are a demon slayer, you would maybe have private training session, and a cute lunch on a break. Now if you aren't a demon slayer (condolences) he'd make time for you'd watch clouds together, eat lunch and spend some time together, but he is busy so... :( I bet he was smiling teh rest fo teh day though :3

Look...that clouds looks just like (favourite animal)...happy birthday y/n...i love you

Killua Zoldyck:

Thinks celebrating something like an anniversary of your birth is stupid :3 Would definitely ask Gon for gift ideas<3 Now, if you are helping Gon find his dad too, I feel like you two would end up having a play fight of a sort? Yk, to train your nen:3 But if you dont, or its already some time after the og plot line, he'd take you on a date, and give you choco robots! Tease you a little too!

look at yourself, in a few years, i wont even be able to call you a baby :3 is it just me or youre even more beatiful? must come witha age:3 Happy Birthday silly:3

Neuvillette:

Humans celebrate the anniversary of their birth? Why? He asks, why celebrate being even closer to death. It scared him...your death...It's so close, yet so far. When you explained him that it's to commemorate your past years, and celebrate what's to come. he understood, after all, humans have only finite amount of years to live, so he was going to make yours the best possible. He would clear up his schedule, or at least try. He would get you flowers and then he would take you to a romantic dinner to the finest restaurant in all of Fontaine, and then to a romantic walk by the shore, to watch otters (:3) He hopes many of these so called birthdays of yours would come.

Mon amour...we should do this more often, not only on special occasions...I love you so much...and these..."birthdays" only remind me of...future without you...

Dazai Osamu:

My man will ask you to commit double suicide i am not even joking. Honestly would either not gaf about your birthday or would be really attentive and romantic and i cannot decide.

Would you be willing to commit double suicide with me, on this important day? *smack*

our!Ciel Phantomhive:

It's not like i am lazy to write, but it's really hard to think of anything okay. I believe you would have tea party. A lot of Earl grey tea, a lot of sweets...and chess or other board games. You will just spend quality time with him...and technically Sebastian too, since he will be tending to your needs, and preparing all the food :3

Happy birthday dearest, i hope the cake is to your liking, i had Sebastian prepare it out of the finest ingredients

#saiki #saiki kusuo no psi nan #kusuo saiki #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki k x reader #ciel phantomhive x reader #our!ciel #ciel phantomhive #kuroshitsuji #black butler #happy birthday #birthday #happy bday #birthday girl #my birthday #happy bithday to me #muichiro tokito #kny #kny x reader #muichiro x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #killua zoldyck #hxh killua #killua hunter x hunter #hxh #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck x reader #killua x reader #killua x y/n #neuvillette x reader

[abijahfowler]

never underestimate the evil old bitch! (click for better resolution 🤍)

the first time i have lined & rendered a piece in… 8 months? the muscle has absolutely atrophied lmao. but i need to break the habit of just coloring my sketches because i am lazy, and my love for siobhán motivated me to crawl put of the gutters and actually try.

i gave up on her headpiece lmao. SHE STILL HAS IT but i wanted to draw her in something a little more time period appropriate…

but yeah!! this scene of mizu in her tavern has been burned into my brain for DAYS and i had to get it out of my brain pan… i want to write a fic for it at some point but i have quite literally forgotten how to properly structure a sentence, so this’ll do for now! mizu got caught snooping around in a place she didn’t belong and got got for it lmao. siobhán doesn’t care to be anything other then nasty to her hostage, and this “gracious offer” is completely fucking empty and said just to get underneath mizu’s skin.

abijah’s mad that she’s taking her sweet time with taking care of mizu because he has personal experience with how immortal this bitch seems to be and siobhán does not care for his incessant bitching.

#sketchbook #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai oc #siobhán #bes mizu #abijah fowler

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC | Retired AU | Is It Really You?*

Summary: A little 🍃 Andra stargazing with Ghost

Word Count: ~1.8k

If you're new to this story, you can read Chapter 1 here. Filler chapters are marked with an * sign.

Content: accidental high (hehe), fluff, wee little lore drop

Author's note: This one is a itty bitty filler chapter that the little writing goblin in my brain told me to create at like 2a 🥴 enjoy and stay tuned cuz next chapter is gonna be beefy!

ALSO I made a little playlist of the songs they were listening to if anyone cares 😂

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsvQwF6FNtSzXEjTpFX6zxpH2nsdbuN0G&si=cfNPy4NgRSjRIx9T

“It’s in my glove box!” Johnny hollered from under the kitchen sink as Andra stomped through the living room.

“I heard you!” she yelled back, earning her some disgruntled Scottish noises. She was in a sour mood from Johnny helping himself to her last sparkling water. Usually, it wouldn’t be a big deal, she’s told the boys to take anything they want all the time, but she specifically told Johnny ‘not the Bubbly.’

He took the Bubbly.

Karma made its way back to him when he decided to tag along with Ghost to come help with her clogged sink. He was stuck with having to do the job considering Ghost’s wide shoulders kept him from being able to fit underneath the tight space. Drink the one thing off limits? Enjoy the clogged sink.

Receipts and an empty protein shaker fell out as soon as she opened the passenger door to his truck. “Pinche basura…” Andra picked up the shaker and chucked it back in and shoved the receipts in her pocket to toss when she went back inside. The glove box wasn’t any better, but she managed to find the adjustable wrench he needed.

A plastic bag with an array of colorful gummy bears sat in the cupholder of the center console, and it caught her eye. She fisted a handful of the candy with a snicker before closing his truck up with the wrench in hand. Johnny won’t miss a few gummies, she thought.

She popped a few in her mouth as she strolled in, her nose and mouth scrunched at the taste. Sugar free, gross. “Here,” she kicked his boot to catch his attention.

Johnny reached a hand out and took it from her without breaking focus.

Her other hand reached into the receipt-full pocket and threw them in the bin. “You gotta clean out your truck, an avalanche of trash fell out when I opened the door.”

“You offerin’?” Johnny scoffed. “I’m a wee bit busy fixin’ yer sink.”

Andra snorted. “If Ghost can keep his truck clean, so can you.”

“Pissin’ blight, the two of you…” Johnny growled as he struggled to loosen up the pipe.

She continued chewing on another gummy, regretting that she took so many. “I know, it’s a pain in the neck sharing parental responsibilities with Ghost at your grown age.” Her face grimaced at the taste of the gummies once more. “These gummies are ass.”

Johnny grunted as metal clinked on metal, followed by the sound of water hitting the bottom of a bucket. “Which ones?”

Andra swallowed the last bitter gummy she had. “I got them from your truck.”

“You what – agh, shite!” He cursed as he bumped his head while trying to pull himself up from under the sink. “How many did you have?”

Her shoulders shrugged. “Five or six, maybe?”

“Ghost is gonna skin me.”

-----

Ghost couldn’t leave Johnny alone to handle a clogged sink for more than an hour without getting a message talking about ‘It’s not my fault’. Luckily, he was already on his way back with takeaway and a fresh new six pack of that water Andra likes.

He was relieved to see the house wasn’t flooded, but found the front door open with just the mesh, screen frame keeping the bugs out. His hands were full with the bags, so he used his index finger to pull the screen door open and found Andra laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with an open bag of crisps laying on her stomach.

Ghost set down the plastic bags on the coffee table and stepped up to the edge of the couch. “You alright, doll?”

A wide smile spread across her face. “I can’t feel my face, and I see Gilbert Gottfried on the ceiling.”

Johnny rushed to the living room, a guilty look in his sapphire eyes. “Before you wallop me –”

“What happened?” Ghost demanded.

“Andra mistook my edibles for normal gummy bears and helped herself.” He slowly flinched away with every word he said.

A giggle came from the woman that barely took up the length of the couch. “Had to collect the Andra tax for stealin’ my water.” Her southern lilt came out for a moment.

“Christ alive, Johnny.” Ghost oughta grab him by the collar of his shirt and kick him in the ass, leaving him out on the front porch. He was more concerned with Andra to follow up on his promise. Ghost helped her sit upright, taking one hand and supporting her back with the other and set the crisps on the table behind him. “Look at me, sweetheart.” His mitt-sized hands cradled her face between one another.

Her pupils were blown out dilated, the honey brown eclipsed by the void. She giggled once more, her lids barely staying open. “Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.”

Ghost scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “What’s that about?”

“My heart beating faster when you hold me like that.” He couldn’t help himself from grinning at that, and he pulled his hands away from her. “I can feel my nose throbbing.”

“I thought you said you can’t feel your face.” He retorted.

Her smile dropped as her cheeks turned pink. “Then it’s not my nose throbbing.”

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny groaned. “I’ll go unpack the takeaway –”

Ghost shot him a daggered glare when Johnny reached for the plastic bag holding the food. “Keep your recreational substances out of sight next time.”

Johnny disappeared to the kitchen, mumbling something under his breath about how she shouldn’t be taking things that aren’t hers.

Rich coming from him.

“I’ll crack you open one of those waters and bring you your food.” Ghost pushed himself up onto his feet. “You feel like eating?”

Andra slumped against the couch, her lower lip tutted out for a pout. “Can we eat here? I don’t want to get up.”

“Of course.”

-----

With Andra still high as a kite after a few hours, Ghost made sure to check her pulse every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too elevated. He smacked Johnny upside the head when he told Ghost what dose of THC was in each candy.

Andra didn’t seem like the kind of person to eat edibles every now and then, or even ever. He was impressed with how she handled the effects. He expected her to panic at some point in the evening, but the worst she ever did was separate the ingredients in her shrimp fried rice and ate them all separate.

“Why are you even taking edibles, Johnny?” Ghost asked as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

Johnny answered as he continued to wipe up the kitchen floor. “Helps me sleep, and sometimes I just wannae enjoy the high.”

It wasn’t Ghost’s thing, alcohol was hardly a substance he would have once in a blue moon. That was a different story a couple of years ago, but he decided to call the weekend drinks quits after getting into yelling matches with Johnny a few too many times. And then stopped drinking by himself at home after Price’s detox treatment.

“Where’s the Spotify app?” Andra said out loud in the living room. Ghost found her scrolling through the apps on the large screen in her hand.

Ghost leaned against the doorway. “That’s my phone, doll.”

“Thaaat makes sense.” She made no effort to give back the phone that didn’t belong to her. He could see her downloading Spotify and logging in with her own credentials, and he had no reservations about her being on his device.

Andra stood up from the couch and made her way out the front door. “Come look at the sky with me, I wanna see the stars.”

Ghost stuffed his water bottle in one of the pockets on his cargo pants and went to retrieve a blanket from the hallway closet. He met Andra outside where she was already laying supine on the bed of his truck, leaving the rear gate hung open.

“Let me put this down.” He offered.

Andra sat up and scooted herself to the edge of the trunk while Ghost wrung out the king size blanket and laid it over the hard bed of the truck. She returned to her spot and Ghost followed in suit, lying beside her with his arms behind his head. The temps were dropping, but Andra was unbothered by the chilly air. Ghost enjoyed this kind of weather, cold without a trace of humidity.

“I’m gonna head out now.” Johnny announced as he opened the door to his truck. “The sink is good to go.”

“Thank youuu.” Andra beamed. “Drive safe.”

Johnny’s tires crunched on gravel until it was out of earshot, leaving Andra and Ghost laying beneath the evening sky.

Music was playing at a tolerable volume from his phone on top of the metal toolbox above their heads, coexisting with the sound of chirping insects off in the distance. The sky blushed pink and orange hues off on the horizon; it wouldn’t be long before the sky went dark.

“When I first moved out here,” Andra started, “I would come out here and lay under the stars. Out here, I can see so much more than when I was in the city. I’ve traveled out of the city every now and then when I lived in the states, but it was never like this.”

Ghost hummed in agreement. He’s spent countless nights sleeping under the stars, nights where he could see even more than now. It felt like he was looking at galaxies, so vibrant it was as if he could reach out to caress the constellation’s translucent veils.

Andra turned her head to Ghost, and he glanced in her direction. “Tell me a story.”

He rolled his lips as he thought of one. “When I was out in Urzikstan in 2019, I had gotten lost with my squad in the sand dunes one night. One of the locals a few days prior to this told us not to follow the north star if we ever got lost, the desert played tricks on its victims and send them in circles until dehydration or the steep temperature drop would take them.

“The local told us ‘Follow the Andromeda constellation, she won’t betray you’. She didn’t, and we found our way back with the rest of our company.”

Ghost was about to point up to the sky when Andra beat him to it, aiming directly to where the formation of stars that comprised the Andromeda. “That’s the constellation I was named after,” she giggled to herself, “That’s so wild.”

Ghost lifted his head and looked at her.

“My dad named me Andromeda, and my youngest brother Orion. He was kind of into space stuff if you couldn’t tell.”

Ghost chuffed. “You don’t say." The warmth of her hand was electrifying, but he didn’t pull away. She just let her hand rest over his, each digit laying over his. Ghost returned his gaze to the twinkling stars of Andromeda. His fingers interlaced with hers, holding a piece of his own constellation that brought him here in this moment.

taglist: @fried-papad @onomatobooyah

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x oc #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #mwii #retired au #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc #simon riley #cod fanfiction #cod fanfiction fluff #cod fanfic #slow burn #cod fluff #call of duty smut #cod smut

[hotmessmaxpress]

(a/n: I’ve never been only onlyfans. I’m assuming it works like patreon but for nudes? Allegedly you can also tip using the website?)

Rosquez OnlyFans AU, (1/?) Inspired by these posts on @unhinged-motogp-confessions

It's a common misconception that it is easy for Vale to get laid. While he does have the benefit of his celebrity status, charisma, and literal fanclub, that doesn't necessarily equate to a good deal of pussy on a practical level. For one, women often want more commitment from him than he's willing to provide. He has no interest in having a girlfriend at the moment, no matter how good the sex is. On the other hand, women who are comfortable with being one-night-stands sometimes have the air of wanting to exploit the encounter in some way. While he's never had a lover go so far as to take pictures without his consent, he has been made aware of more than enough tweets, blog entries, and other social media posts about his dick and skills as a lover. There is also the issue of Vale's additional preference for men; hooking up with women is risky enough without the threat of forced outing.

The easiest solution is perhaps the most embarrassing: porn. Vale has the money to acquire pretty much any type of porn that he wants, and it's convenient no matter where he is in the world (for the most part).

Vale has a private OnlyFans account with Rossano as the profile picture. It’s on that account that he discovers and subscribes to Marc. MotoMarc93 He is the hottest man Valentino Rossi has ever seen. He’s absolutely fit, six pack and all, and he rarely has a shirt on. He has the face of a model, and Valentino loves it when he smiles. What really makes Marc stand out though, is his garage. Marc has an entire garage of motorcycles. His favorite, that he includes in videos, is an orange and black wrapped Honda Fireblade. Marc is filthy on the bike. Sometimes it’s innocent; thirst trap selfies of himself leaned back on the bike, cock just out of frame. Other times it's a photo over his shoulder, showing the line of his toned back down to his bare ass. Vale pays for everything– he pays for the most expensive monthly subscription, but also buys the pay-per-view shots at every available opportunity. That gives him access to all the videos Marc posts. He posts one in particular of him riding a dildo that he has suction-cupped to the seat that makes Vale come so hard he thinks for a moment that he died. After that video he sends Marc a tip for 1000€ with a message: “amazing video xx”. Marc responds with a question: “what is your name?” That question is a red flag for Valentino, but he is horny and therefore stupid. “Valentino.” There is no response for 24 hours, which terrifies Vale. The next afternoon, however, he receives a direct message from Marc. It’s similar to the previous video, but Marc has changed the camera angle– his camera is set up behind the rear of the bike, but clearly his tripod is standing on something to make it even taller than normal. The angle of the video makes it feel as if Valel is looking down just slightly– like he’s standing behind the bike and watching. Marc takes his time in the video. He walks into frame already naked, grinning, and makes his way toward the bike. He kneels next to it, jerking the dildo off slowly with a grin at the camera before turning, swinging his leg over the bike, and slowly seating himself on the dildo. The camera angle gives Vale a perfect view of where the cock enters Marc's tight hole. He groans as it fills him, and Vale scrambles to free his hard cock from his pants. Marc rocks his hips before sliding up and back down the silicone cock. He moans, rocking up, before he opens his mouth. “Valentino,” he moans. “Harder.” He picks up speed, fucking himself deep and hard on the dildo. Vale pumps his cock in time with the rise and fall of Marc’s hips. He doesn't think he's ever been this invested in a screen before in his life. “Valentino, please,” Marc cries. Vale comes hard, cum shooting nearly up to his chin. He moans as he jerks himself through it.

When he opens his eyes, Marc has reached behind him and picked up the camera. He brings it around his body, and Vale nearly comes again at the sight of Marc’s cum painting the body of the bike, nearly up to the handlebars. The camera flips, and Marc grins and blows a kiss at the camera before the video ends.

#I hate writing smut but here I am #I will write more but my brain needs a break #valentino rossi #marc marquez #rosquez #motogp rpf #mm93 #vr46 #OnlyFans au

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

AGH FASHION DESIGNER SUGURU AND MODEL SATORU W A NEW INTERN DESIGNER UNDER THEIR WING 😞😞☹️ - 🌺

WAHHHH I LOVE THIS 🥺🥺🥺 the pining and flirting and slowburn of it all… model!satoru and his favorite designer suguru geto, both of them undeniably skilled and born with an eye for fashion….. well-known and adored……..

designer!suguru who gets tasked with showing you the ropes, who’s always so patient and kind despite your inexperience. diligent with his teaching but also so laidback, so easy to talk to… he looks intimidating, but he’s so polite that you can’t help but swoon a little. and he admires your enthusiasm so much…… grows fond of you soooo quickly bc you’re just such a breath of fresh air compared to the divas he’s forced to work with all the time. he thinks you’ve got real potential and he wants to nurture it.

and ofc you end up running into model!satoru eventually…. bc he’s always hanging around suguru whenever he gets the chance. and he’s maybe a little jealous that you’re hogging so much of his personal designer’s attention, but… he also thinks you’re so cute . T_T like a little puppy following suguru around… so excited to be apart of something you’ve dreamed of for so many years……… he looks into your eyes and sees the same sparkle he had before he made it big, and it makes his heart race.

yeah . i’m just thinking abt the peaceful coffee breaks with suguru….. how he’d insist on paying for your drink, ”since he’s your senior” (he wants to be your favorite </3)…… and how he’d just be so protective over his little intern. don’t get me started on the close proximity with satoru when you’re taking his measurements, the glance and smile he sends your way during an impromptu shoot… the way he always calls for you with a sweet coo of ”how’s my favorite intern doing today?”

😔😔😔 yeahhhhhh. they make me feel ill.

#thank you 🌺 anon my beloved….. i am kissing your beautiful brain #😭😭😭😭 now i kinda wanna write this oh no #my anons keep making my wip list longer this isn’t fair T—T #(i love you all very much) #NO BUT THIS IS SO BIGBRAINED IT’S INSANE #fashion designer!sugu the loml…. model!satoru just feels so natural too #i think they’re both very mature!!!!!!! #there are some aus where i think satoru would lean towards his more bratty hs self #but here i feel like he’s similar to the way he is in canon :3 just. silly and goofy and passionate abt what he does #AND very fond of youth. of people with lofty goals and dreams and starlight in their eyes #(<- has gotten carried away) #YOU GET IT THOUGH i know you’ll see the vision 🌺 anon 🫂🫂🫂 we’re holding hands #i need them both #need suguru to buy me expensive coffee while satoru feeds me pieces of a pastry #for some reason i keep thinking of coffee breaks i might. just be hungry 😭😭😭 #ask tag ✩ #🌺 anon !! ✩ #geto x reader #gojo x reader #stsg x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

[humanmorph]

"This is a message to you, who listens. You must trust me, because we are friends. You just don't know it yet. "

(The Road to PARTIZAN 05 : Ech0 & dusk to midnight)

currently halfway through PARTIZAN (making my way towards palisade extremely slowly. see u guys there in a month or two) & this is to date my favourite intro Austin has done. what an great introduction to an extremely cool character

#Partizan #road to partizan #friends at the table #fatt #gur sevraq #ive been wanting to draw something for that intro ever since i first heard it but i didnt. even know who gur sevraq was at that point. #but its been On My Mind #rosa art #im fairly happy with this i had a lot of fun coming up w the composition. it felt like a puzzle bc i knew what i wanted... #the lineless artstyle is something ive been trying out more and it doesnt come easy but it is fun. (so many layers.....) #you can zoom in for details because. ofthe person i am i always have to add little lines everywhere #well i usually write kind of a lot in the tags but ive been drawing for 5 hours nonstop. my brains kind of wiped. #i havent taken my walk yet so. i will now do that #...usually id listen to more partizan but millenium break is. literally not relaxing and i need to chill a bit #might put on the new bluff. #oh one more thing every time i relisten to that intro i do a little ME? gesture i hear that first line. its fun to me #edit: ok i moved the text slightly it was bothering me ! #probably noone else will notice.

[spicyvampire]

Okay so after the whole Sakuna/Wansarut and Phaya/Tharn "characters description" fighter (protector)/healer+protector(mediator) post, now imma talk about about our resident Snake (PhD), Doctor Chalothorn being a fighter and well how do you convince a fighter to not fight?

I've already made a whole gifset about this but I needed to put the stuff into words cuz u just can't say everything in a gifset so this post is gonna be about a few things, first of all, the way Charlothorn's goals shifted in the last 2 episodes, from wanting to kill Phaya so he can have Tharn, to wanting to save Tharn and Phaya's end not really mattering anymore, and second of all Tharn's role in this shift and where have we saw something similar to this shift before aka Wansarut and Sakuna and how Wansarut even did that

Same disclaimer as the last one applies : pulling this out of my ass from watching the show, these are raw out-of-order thoughts, ill try my best to separate but like the last post because I'm going to have to go back and forth between Wansarut (love of my life, talking about Wansarut has to be my favorite activity rn), Sakuna, Tharn (smooching him smooching him), Phaya and Chalothorn this might get hard to follow but hey that's what it's like inside my brain so welcome to the mess

Putting it under keep reading

So like I said in the last post, Chalothorn is a fighter, like you can't get more fighter than this, the man is literally the prince/ruler of Nagas and he is right in the middle of the battle field anytime there is a fight to be had, and like I said in Sakuna's part of the post he is a level that can probably can only be rivaled by Sakuna's brother, you can't be a higher level of Naga fighter from what I understand, so like how do you fight this man if you are Wansarut and Sakuna? (ep. 8)

Keep in mind that : the answer is that they never were supposed to fight Chalothorn

SCENARIO 1 : Chalothorn wins

This is what we've seen in the show, Sakuna/Wansarut/Phaya/Tharn would never win against him in a fight because they just aren't strong enough to began with, Sakuna and his Garuda were not Chalothorn's level when he was alive, Wansarut is a healer/protector not a fighter, Phaya can only do ✨Sparkles✨ of Garuda powers as of rn and while Tharn can do some powerful protecting he is of the gang the person who is the less in contact with his past and magical self (other than for protecting Phaya magic, we have not even seen his Naga in this lifetime) and also his past self wasn't even a fighter, so it makes sense that Chalothorn just keep killing them and every single one of their reincarnations, he kills them so much that it was destroying his own soul (ep. 8) because surprise he is getting affected by the little cyclic karma thingy they got going on too, this isn't just about Wansarut/Sakuna and PhayaTharn, Chalothorn is trapped in this shit too

Clearly fighting is not the answer, because even if you win, which Chalothorn has been doing a lot of, you still lose, Chalothorn is losing control of his Naga form, not only does it destroy his soul (ep. 8) but he might just not be able to turn into his human form anymore aka would be forced to be a Naga forever (ep. 9)

Another lost of this is that he keeps losing Wansarut and having to wait for the cycle to start again so he would get another chance, like the level of psychological damage getting done to him because he kills the one he loves and he is always left behind alone to wait is enough to drive anybody insane (ep. 11)

And I think that's one of the reasons why it took him so long to understand that he should let Wansarut/Tharn go, because when you do something so despicable and keep doing it over and over again you have to justifies your bad actions to yourself so you don't break and the more you justifies them the harder it becomes to see clearly through them, so you just keep doing it, like Chalothorn probably hates himself more than he even hates Phaya or love Tharn at this point because he keeps killing reincarnations of Wansarut, like this is his reaction to killing Wansarut the first time, falling to his knees screaming and everything (ep. 8), the cognitive dissonance in that man's brain must be insane

SCENARIO 2 : Phaya wins

Now let's imagine for a second there that they did win, Phaya succeeded in killing Charlothorn, and then what? Isn't Charlothorn just gonna reincarnate and come back for them again? Like yes it might take some times but it will happen, and then Phaya and Tharn would be the one destroying their souls and making their karma worst, that's just not a solution

Also we saw with Narong's case part of the show that "victim turned attacker" is not the answer (anyways that's what the show says), when Tharn and Phaya are talking to the abbot at the end of episode 5 the abbot keep repeating that over and over again killing is not the answer

When Phaya Says "Those victims are left with no choice but to fight back in order to survive. They have to kill." The abbot answers "The basic code of moral conducts for human beings like us is the 5 precepts. One should be abstained from killing other living beings. These precepts can bring peace and happiness to your family and the society. Undertaking the 5 precepts will benefit not only yourself but also the people around you." Basically straight up telling them that [not killing] is the only answer that will bring peace to everyone

Also so many parallels can be made between Narong and Chalothorn (which is probably why it was easy for Chalothorn to possess Narong to attack Phaya but let's not get into that), because like isn't this Chalothorn? (ep. 5)

His mind is so clouded by anger and wanting to kill Phaya and getting Tharn that he is obsessed with it, he literally do not see anything else, specially if Phaya is in the room and/or mentioned, like I said a bit higher in this post, he hates Phaya, but he probably hates himself too, and so much hate and anger just blinds people

Also sidenote that I'm not really gonna dive into : How do you think Tharn would feel about Phaya killing Chalothorn, knowing what u know about him? like Tharn loves Chalothorn as a friend, and that's even if Chalothorn is responsible for all the bad things in his life (ep. 12)

Tharn may be looking at Chalothorn saying this but he said "Please stop killing each other." he could not be more clearly talking to both of them, he doesn't want Chalothorn to kill Phaya but he also doesn't want Phaya to kill Chalothorn

SCENARIO 3 : Tharn Wins

Now lemme say this, you can literally never convince a fighter by fighting him, like if you've ever had a fight/argument with someone you know that you cannot reach a compromise in the heat of the fight when everyone is angry and losing the control of their emotions, it just doesn't work, but what does work in the context of the show?

Wansarut and Sakuna

And now I'm back to Wansarut (<3<3<3<3<3<3) and Sakuna because well Wansarut did change a fighter's mind before already, this is part of Wansarut's power that's why I also describe Wansarut as a mediator, and what did Wansarut do exactly?

Well Wansarut healed Sakuna, even if he is from the enemy side, and took care of him and acted in a way that was protective of him, even if again Sakuna is an enemy of Wansarut's people (literally brother of the Garuda king) because that Wansarut's character, Wansarut is a healer/a protect/a mediator that's how Wansarut fights (ep. 8)

Then Wansarut tough Sakuna about Naga culture (Naga offering and breathing fire to pay respect to Buddha, on the 15th nigh of the 11th waxing moon)

And while being in love with each other did facilitate this change of view in Sakuna (which would later turn him a bit into a protector of Wansarut), you really do not need to be for this to work, like the best way to change people views on some things truly is just to expose them to the thing from the POV of the people living it, when nobody is in any immediate danger

And that is exactly how Tharn succeeded in convincing Chalothorn that the love between Phaya and him is good, by being there for Chalothorn and taking care of him, and being patient, until Chalothorn was ready to let him go on his own, not in the heat of of fight when everyone is angry and putting the blame on each other, which was again so healer/ protector/mediator of him like I talked about in my other post

Tharn and Chalothorn : the final

So with Wansarut and Sakuna we saw how Tharn could change Chalothorn's mind and what really does work, now imma dive into the last 2 episodes of this show aka the shift in Chalothorn

So in episode 6, Chalothorn says this

And at that time I think those words were true cuz that's literally what he has been doing isn't it? Like everytime he lost, both Wansarut and Sakuna's reincarnations died, so he was "okay" with killing Wansarut, as long as it meant that Sakuna was also dead and they weren't together (crazy way to fight cognitive dissonance if you ask me) but then something changed around episode 11 because Chalothorn started saving Tharn even if Phaya was still alive? (Ep. 11) (ep.12)

The importance of Chalothorn saving Tharn those 2 times, is that 1) now Tharn knows what the fuck is going on and 2) (like I said in the other post) Tharn end up understanding that Chalothorn can be talked too and reasoned with (the abbot would call it enlightenment), because in that 2nd saving he told Chalothorn to not kill Montee, and Chalothorn listened

Sidenote : Wansarut also did tell Chalothorn to not kill Sakuna and Chalothorn did listen that time too, like Wansarut has a BIG influence on this man (wish we saw their relationship before the mess), the only reason why the fight did continue was because Sakuna did not let Wansarut go

Why did he listen then? because he loves Wansarut, it really is as simple as that, and that's why he also listened to Tharn with Montee, because our chronically involuntary celibate man is head over dick for Tharn (valid and relatable)

So remember when I was talking about cognitive dissonance and stuff, well by ep 12, Chalothorn cannot justifies killing Tharn anymore, he is tired, he is turning into a Naga, and he cannot stand seeing another reincarnation of Wansarut die again, but most importantly he cannot stand to see Tharn die by his own hands

It's easy to concentrate on Phaya's distress in this scene but Chalothorn is in as much distress as Phaya, you can hear Chalothorn's voice break when Tharn is dying in both Phaya and his arms after asking them to stop killing each other, they are both screaming Tharn's name, and this time Chalothorn just listen because this is too much, his hatred for Phaya is just not important anymore, killing Phaya is just not as important anymore because anyways Tharn did choose him didn't he? isn't that what he wanted? even if Tharn clearly is in love with Phaya, Tharn did choose to come with him, so in a way none of this shit even fucking matters anymore

So for the 3rd time, he saves Tharn, this time by literally giving Tharn his soul so he would live (wish we saw him breaking down over Tharn dying in his arms in the Naga caves until he ended up giving Tharn his soul tbh), Chalothorn chooses to save a life instead of ending one and thus ending the curse on his part

#the sign the series #the sign #mjtag #tagging you mj cuz u liked my chalothorn gifset so you might like this #hope this makes sense i kinda did not re-read after i was done writing it #my only critic of this show is that i needed them to huminaze chalothorn more #by showing me wansarut interacting with chalothorn before the whole sakuna situation #and also by showing me chalothorn crying/breaking down/panicking over Tharn dying in his arms in the Naga caves #until he decides to just give Tharn his soul #this show needed to be 14 episodes SO bad #i ended up not putting my critic in this cuz it was just too long #but what i just said in the tag is basically it my critic is that it needed to be 14 episodes #i can elaborate in an ask if asked about it #anyways this show really makes my psychology and character lover brain tingle

[wexhappyxfew]

and then i breathed

(a/n): AND SO I JUST STARTED TYPING (enter danny devito meme). basically, i started with an idea for this and couldn't help but keep writing so please enjoy!! serving up a nice view of kennedy x bucky in the stalag because that's where we really see the most development from them, more than anything. and to say the least, i am majorly misty-eyed over this and especially kennedy's character. when first developing her character, i didn't realize how much she'd develop up until this point and i am absolutely loving every bit of her in this angsty, hurt/comfort perspective. and of course, bucky makes the perfect person to put opposite her in so many ways. someone who equals her in humor and dialogue. i sincerely hope you all enjoy - this is almost a love letter to the kennedy x bucky girlies. thank you!! :D

The sound of the plane breaking in half had hit her like a slap in the face.

She remembered the sound so vividly that when the silence consumed her, her mind became overwhelmed by that very sound - the intrepid ripping of metal straight in half as she launched herself out of the belly of the plane, pulling the cord on her parachute, swinging through the war-torn sky alive with flak, enemy fighters and bullets, dangling out in the air, half-hoping something killed her right then and there.

She could hardly remember the feeling - landing in the middle of Germany, mind an absolute wreck, looking around for signs of Lieutenant Bradshaw or Lieutenant Carlisle or even some of the boys who'd been deposited into Silver Bullets after the 100th had run thin and they'd split the girls up.

Jenkins, their co-pilot, Hefner, their bombardier, Thillburn, their radio ops, or their turret ball gunner, Stalinker, their other waist gunner, Klinger, and tail gunner, Gronkowski.

None of them had shown.

She was half-hoping Margie was somewhere nearby, but had come up empty-handed.

She remembered the words that had come through the comms when Lieutenant Bradshaw had said they needed to bail out.

The ringing of that fucking bell.

The sound still wrung around in her head when she wasn't doing something to keep her mind distracted. She remembered it like a stop-motion picture. Flashes of moments that she wasn't sure were even real, but were true enough that her body reacted in ways she couldn't explain.

She watched herself stand in the belly of the plane, pulling the wounded Thillburn over, and attempting to wrap his crooked arm that was knocked into the worst possible position, the blood coating his shoulder and chest, soaking through his coat and covering her hands in a sticky mess.

She remembered him yelling, his words clouded by fear, nothing but a blank thought in her mind - what had he been yelling? What had he been trying to tell her? Were those his last moments of human contact before she helped to plunge him out of the plane? Was he alive? She'd known the kid for a few weeks, with only a few missions run alongside him, but had he been dropped out of that plane and lived? He had family back home, he had a life, a girlfriend he'd been writing to. Was he alive?

The look in his eyes sometimes came back to her a night, when she settled into her bunk and stared up at the wooden ceiling; it came back like a bad dream each night. His eyes boring into hers, begging to keep him alive. The thought made her skin crawl, it made her heart race, it made her want to lose it, trapped in this stupid excuse of a camp.

"You gotta stay with me, Thillburn!" Kennedy had yelled, her throat hoarse practically, her hands slick with blood as Thillburn writhed there on the ground, the whole plane creaking and screaming through the air, parts flying off and exploding off behind them, the yelling in her comms enough to make her vomit, the bell ringing overhead, the entire plane contorting and spinning through the air like the nightmare it had been. Over and over. Thillburn screaming.

Jenkins yelling to bail out, his form appearing in front of Kennedy, as he pointed and yelled to the opening. Her wide eyes filled with terror as she watched Jenkins pull Stalinker up from the ball turret, half-dead on his feet, blood dripping down his face, a giant piece of flak hanging out from his chest.

Kennedy remembered looking up and seeing Lieutenant Bradshaw dropping down from the cockpit, landing with such precision and calculated gusto, that Kennedy was sure that only force on the plane that had kept her level-headed in that moment was seeing Lieutenant Bradshaw come towards the group and calmly manage the situation.

Moving the frantic Jenkins towards the opening and telling him to go, hastily removing tags from Stalinker, and helping Kennedy to guide the flailing Thillburn to the belly of the plane to drop out.

Kennedy remembered the look in Annie's eyes; fear bathed in absolute horror and uncertainty - yet shoving it aside for the crew. To uphold command pilot the best she could. Kennedy remembered hearing Thillburn screaming for her as he went flying out of the plane, like a rag doll in his parachute begging for mercy.

"Kennedy!" he had screamed out into the open air, "Kennedy!"

And that's when she shot awake, her whole body in a damn-near paralysis, as her eyes locked on the wooden bunk above her, the sudden realization of the silence succumbing around her and where she was, along with the pounding of the blood in her ears, racing - over and over.

Slowly, she shifted her gaze away from the top of the bunk and towards the tiny room, all the members of the 100th that were there, completely and entirely asleep. It brought her a slice of comfort to see Lieutenant Bradshaw curled up on the bunk beside Captain Brady, her tiny bit of dirty-blonde hair hardly visible with the current hold Brady had on her there.

Annie put out so much for Silver Bullets that having her safe there in the arms of someone who would lay down his life for her, was a comfort. She could see the laden forms of Major Cleven, Bessie, Crank, Murphy, and Hambone around the place, along with Benny who was in the bunk above Margie, who nearly lay on death's doorstep on a bad day. Days of her current state had left her barely alive, but she was slowly improving.

Slowly, Kennedy brought her gaze towards the window and felt her heart nearly launch out of her chest. Bucky Egan was stood there by the window, his form unmoving, and his head slightly hung downward, his hair looking as if he had tried to get it into some sort of conformed place, but had failed. He looked so much more….quiet, in this light. Where he looked as if he was the only person awake in the room, trying to come to terms with whatever the hell they were currently in. His broad shoulders were still pronounced and held high, but there was something distant and withdrawn about his form that she was sure if she kept staring, he'd fade to black.

"You okay?" Kennedy locked her eyes on his form by the window and swallowed, "I know you're awake, Farley." Kennedy slowly reached her hand up to her chest, attempting to calm her racing heart and keep quiet. She felt if she tried to talk to him now, her heart would pound out of her chest fully and her words would get clogged in her throat enough to make her physically sick. And Bucky would see right through her like she was glass. In the cover of night, she let her walls down for herself and she didn't want another soul to have to see her like that. Broken and vulnerable and cracked all over. Bucky didn't need that. None of them did.

"You were mumbling in your sleep." Bucky whispered quietly again from the window and she heard him shift a bit, like he was moving his weight from one side to the next by the window, his voice still muffled - he wasn't looking at her. Kennedy swallowed.

"Bad dream." she whispered out, her voice unsteady, "I'm fine." She heard Bucky let out a quiet puff of air that sounded a bit like a breathy laugh, but she didn't bother. It seemed by this point, despite all efforts, Bucky could read her like an open book whenever he pleased.

"You sure?"

"Positive." Kennedy answered back, softly and quickly, an uncontrollable pinprick of a smile on her lips, "You get that sorta stuff in your mind with the shit we've all been through." She was playing it off, she was trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal - even if she could still hear the bail-out bell ringing in her mind. Over and over. Again and again.

"What was in it?" Bucky asked her, a genuine softness to his voice that made her heart give a dull pound, "Your dream?"

"Nothing." Kennedy said quickly, louder than she wanted - she heard someone shift on a bunk across the room a bit. She blinked a few times as her heart began to race.

For a moment, lying in that bunk, with the only person awake in that room being Bucky, she wanted nothing more than to be standing beside him, reveling in his presence and his body heat and his tall form, telling him everything in that dream and letting him tell her they were fine, that things would be okay, that in a way, it wasn't real. Even though it was. But she felt glued to that bunk. Frozen.

"Nothing?" Bucky said, a hint of a smile on his lips - she could always tell when he was smiling through his words and she couldn't see him. His voice became a bit deeper, and a bit lighter all at once, with a slight hint of surprise and hidden joy he didn't want you seeing. But she heard it every time. "Nothing at all, huh?"

"Serious." Kennedy offered back, "I'd tell you if it was bad. I'm fine." Bucky let out a soft laugh as she continued staring at the top bunk, her mind slowly crumbling into shambles. She wanted to be there beside him, she wanted some form of comfort that wasn't a wooden bunk and the bitter cold. She wanted him.

"C'mere, Farley." Kennedy slowly turned her head and found Bucky, for the first time, looking right towards her bunk, his eyes glowing a bit more in the darkness, reminding her, surprisingly, of Frank, Marianne's cat back on base. Watching her with that look in his gaze that drew her in enough to want to get up from the bunk.

Kennedy slowly shifted, and pulled her long legs over the edge of the bunk, before letting her feet slide to the ground. She stood there for a moment before turning to him and taking quiet steps towards his figure there against the window.

As she approached him, in this sudden quiet atmosphere, where it was just the two of them for once, not another soul awake, she felt every inch of his gaze on her. The moonlight outside reflected the side of his shadowed face enough for her to see that sad, far-off look in his eyes, and the hint of a hollow smile on his lips.

"What?" she asked him, regretting that she could get nothing better to come to mind when she was suddenly stood by his side. She watched Bucky grin at her in the darkness, from right there beside her and looked out the small window again and nodded.

"First time you see the stars out here?" She followed his line of sight and looked out the dusty window pane and, for the first time, just as he had stated, saw the stars. Glowing, twinkling there above them, ever-present and shining just as brightly as they had when she was a small child back home in Boston, staring up at them at night, praying for the future. For a moment, the world went still and she was that young girl again looking at the stars.

"Yeah, actually." she whispered back to him, looking up at the dark sky, before slowly glancing over at him, his full face illuminated in moonlight. For the first time, up-close, she got a good look at the scars on his face, underneath his eyes, the bruising (which was finally, slowly fading) and the way his eyes seemed more sunken in than she remembered. She swallowed.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked him quietly, watching as the corner of his lip curled upwards at her voice.

"Long enough." he whispered, and then shrugged, "Happens nightly. Don't get as much sleep as I want. Half the time, I stay awake because I don't need one of those German fuckers coming in here and pulling some shit." Kennedy stared at him, her heart pounding at the way his jaw had clenched and his eyes had gone dark.

"Nightly?" she asked him, resisting the urge to reach out and tenderly touch that face of his and tuck him into bed. These boys pushed themselves to the edge, it was no wonder all the girls were acting the way they were with these boys out here. They had no one but each other and youth brought a sense of maternal instinct to them all half the time.

"Yeah," Bucky said quietly, before glancing over at her, his eyes big like a puppy-dogs, "it's why I knew you were awake. You stopped breathing heavy - you hear that sorta stuff when you can't sleep at night." Kennedy watched him, her eyes flicking between his eyes and those scars on his face and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and tell him in some way the world would be okay again.

"You've been up every night since you got here?" Kennedy asked him softly, "Bucky…." Bucky let out a soft chuckle and shook his head before looking at her.

"Kenny, it's fine." he said quietly as he leaned towards her slowly, that little nickname Judy usually called her rolling off his tongue with ease - it was always Farley, always, always Farley, what was this? "Never been better. Hey, I'd tell you if it was getting bad, alright?" Kennedy watched him sling her words right back at her and sighed slightly, her worry rising to levels she wasn't sure had been possible.

"So," Bucky said, glancing back out the window they were leaned up against, smiling slightly, "what was going on in that dream of yours?" Kennedy sighed and she heard Bucky laugh quietly.

"Are you seriously going to keep asking me that?" she managed out back to him, as quiet as she could.

"Maybe." he said with a humorous tone to his voice, "You get all passionate when I piss you off, so, maybe."

"I really wonder what goes through your head sometimes." Kennedy whispered back, with a slight bit of teasing in her voice, before she felt reality wash over her and she couldn't help but look to him again, regaining that feeling of wanting some sort of comfort. She couldn't work out the feeling of her nightmares, or that feeling of being alone in that bunk and trying to fight off her mind - it was making her go crazy.

"You wanna know?" Bucky asked her, gently nudging her shoulder, his voice suddenly more serious than she'd heard it ever before, sending her a quiet smile, "I'll tell ya." She watched him, her eyes unable to turn from his in a way that made her eyes glued to his.

"I'm really fucking scared of the way this place'll change me." he told her quietly, that smile on his face fighting to stay on his lips, like a part of him was trying to convince himself that he wasn't scared, that this wasn't what he was feeling, that this wasn't the reality, "That I won't ever get back to the person I was before getting dropped in here like a sack of potatoes." He let out a weak laugh and leaned against the window pane again, "Fuck." Kennedy watched him slightly from her tilted head and watched as he struggled to keep that smile on his face.

"Keeps me up at night. All this shit." Bucky said again, trying to do some more, further, convincing for himself, to make it all plausible. Kennedy felt so quiet beside him that she was sure she felt like a nuisance because of the fact she was saying nothing. But it felt like Bucky was saying things that he'd bottled up and was now forcing out because of the fact it was spilling over at this point. And he was trying to pull it all back in, but failing.

"You're still Bucky Egan to me." Kennedy said, her voice, for the first time in weeks, firm and confident. She looked over at him, with a nod. "You always will be." Bucky smiled at her, tender and gentle, and nudged her shoulder affectionately.

"Thanks, Kenny." he said quietly and she smiled at him with a nod. Then, both their gazes were set out the window pane again. But Kennedy was itching to say something, to get her voice to work. She felt like she needed to say something else. Almost awkwardly, she reached up to rub behind her neck before glancing at Bucky again.

"I was reliving when the plane got hit." Kennedy said quietly, causing Bucky to look towards her with a mixture of surprise and worry written all over his face, "The dream. It was like I was on the plane again as it went down. As Annie told us to bail. It happens all the time. At night, even when I nap. It's always in my mind. Those final moments." His eyes worriedly washed over her face as she stood beside him, suddenly any sort of stars or moonlight seemingly forgotten about and his focus solely on her.

"Every night?"

"Mostly." she offered, with a nod, "You get used to it. The bail out bell. The plane snapping in half like a toothpick. The screaming." Kennedy shivered, with a nervous smile on her lips.

"You could've woken me up." he offered to her and she shook her head.

"I usually just count back from 100 and then I'm asleep again," she told him quietly, "my mind's usually blank the second time I get myself to sleep anyway." Bucky stood frozen beside her, his body ridged and his eyes hard and narrowed. He slowly nodded, like taking in what she was saying was physically hurting him.

"Thillburn?" he asked her. She must've been mumbling his name on her lips at night. He must be dead.

"Radio ops." she said quietly, "He was half-dead when Annie and I got his parachute on him and got him out. Haven't seen him since."

"What happened to him?" Bucky asked, his voice distant.

"Flak got him…..I think. Came right through the side of the plane." Kennedy managed, as her eyes became misty, "He was begging for me to save him, ya know?" She looked over at Bucky and that moonlight bathing his face and sniffled slightly, before shrugging and looking back down at her fingers, knotted into one another, her thumb rubbing in that same spot over and over when she was worried. She let out a shuddering breath.

"Kennedy, Kennedy, he yelled, over and over. Don't know if I even did anything to save him." Kennedy managed out, "I just hope he landed somewhere…..and if he went, it was peaceful. Ya know?" She looked to Bucky and watched him nod firmly at her - even just seeing him acknowledge her was enough to know in a way that she wasn't crazy deep down. That someone was listening to her and she didn't sound like she was talking out of her ass to him.

"Stalinker. Ball turret gunner," Kennedy offered looking over at Bucky, "must've died on impact. Flak got him." What if that had been Judy, Kennedy thought quietly, feeling her stomach turn.

"Jenkins, our co-pilot. He disappeared somewhere in the clouds." Kennedy said softly, "They were shooting at us after we jumped out. The Germans." Bucky's grip on the window pane made his knuckle turn white and she saw him glance over at her with a stern look in his gaze.

"It just…it lives in my mind. That moment, those 15 minutes of hell," Kennedy said softly, "it's so stupid, but I just can't get it out of mind. Thank God for Annie, hell she was the only stable one of us up there. She's the only reason I'm probably alive."

"Bradshaw's pretty good for that, huh?" Bucky said, his voice more strained than it had been and she nodded as she looked over at him, "She keeps us all going more often than not." Kennedy managed a shaky smile and nodded to him as her eyes welled with tears. He slowly looked towards her and noticed that look in her eyes, nearly quicker than herself and offered her a weak smile.

Bucky didn't take another second though to reach out to her shoulder, closing that small distance between them, rubbing his hand against her shoulder, in circles, over and over, allowing her to catch her breath for a moment, knowing he was right there beside her.

"It's not stupid, Kenny," Bucky said quietly, his thumb brushing against the bare skin on the back of her neck, "you know that. The shit we went through, how we all got here. It was all fucking hell. Thought I was gonna die out there. I'm half-surprised I'm even standing here talking to you now."

"I'm glad you are."

"Thanks, Kenny." She managed a watery smile his way as he smiled weakly back. They watched each other in the quietness for a moment, and she watched as Bucky smiled wider at her, which made her feel safer in that moment more than anything else.

"C'mere, Kenny." he said quietly, pulling with that arm on her shoulder to him. And with how weak and broken she felt, she took that small step between them, and let him pull her into his arms, collapsing into his warm embrace, her face breaking against his chest, as his arms wrapped around her, holding her up against his form.

Kennedy had become pretty good at crying without making a noise, but with each tremor that came from her body, she could hear her silent whimper in the back of her throat that was enough to make her fracture more.

The sound made her think of when she was younger, racing after her brothers on Main Street, unable to catch up to them because she was the youngest sibling and the shortest with the smallest legs. And she'd usually trip and split open her knee and be sobbing her heart out. And then her brothers would come back and coddle her and wrap up her knee with some fabric from one of their shirts and help her back home for her Ma to fuss over.

And soon enough, it happened all the time, and she was able to mask it all. She'd brush off her brothers and her Ma and she toughened up, so she could keep playing.

Eventually it became her way to hide everything from everyone.

But with the way Bucky was holding her, she knew he was looking through her like glass, like he always did.

Kennedy could feel his warm breath from his slow-moving breathing, washing down on top of her as his one hand stayed steady on her lower back and the other lingered between the back of her head and her neck, her unruly hair mused in his fingers as he continued to hold her there. A part of her told her to stand up, move away from his embrace and his arms and him; she was strong enough on her own, she could handle this. But her other half told her to stay there, let him hold her, in the cover of darkness, in the middle of the night - someone was willing to hold her there and not let go. No one had ever been like that towards her, no previous person in her life had been such a way around her.

Holding her in the cover of darkness to try to chase away any sort of nightmare like the ones she always had.

Slowly, she turned her cheek against his chest and listened to the soft pound of his heart in his chest. Her cheeks wet with fresh tears, her eyes itchy and no doubt beet red, she couldn't help but relish the feel of his arms around her - he was so warm, so present, just standing there. It was like the ocean waves had crashed over her, pummeling her down onto the sand, and were finally, slowly receding again, letting her breathe. Kennedy slowly pulled her face from his chest and looked up to search for his eyes again and found him already watching her with that quiet look of his; she attempted to smile.

"I'm sorry if the front of your shirt is wet. It's cold enough as it is," she whispered quietly, her voice sounding like she had been yelling for hours, "thank you, Bucky." Bucky quirked out that lopsided grin of his.

"I don't mind. Honored to have a woman like you wrapped in my arms," he whispered back to her quietly, a small laugh following, "I think we should do this more often." Kennedy sniffled out a small laugh, reaching her hand up to flick his shoulder in her weak attempt at protest that she always did with him. But with the way he was looking at her and holding her, she couldn't keep up their usual banter it seemed and just let him hold her.

"You think?" she whispered back, and then sniffled, smiling slightly, "You tell anyone about this and it's on-sight, alright, Major?"

"Yes, ma'am." he said, his voice low as she let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes at him, not entirely minding the feeling of his gaze on her and hands pressed onto her back. She watched him for a moment, before he cleared his throat.

"Hop in my bunk," he said quietly, "you'll sleep better. I'll be your knight-in-shining-armor or some shit. Fight off the nightmares." Kennedy watched him, her cheeks blazing, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Uh…really-"

"Yeah, yeah, seriously," Bucky said, "anyone's got questions, I'll give 'em their answers, alright?" Kennedy watched him.

"And to think you were heckling Annie and Brady because they were doing the same thing-"

"Kenny." Bucky said giving her a look and she couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"I punch sometimes in my sleep." she muttered.

"You can punch me whenever you need."

"Bucky." He let out a small chuckle.

"C'mon." he said softly, nodding his head towards his bunk. It was at least 10 degrees colder when she pulled from his embrace and they slowly trekked over to his bunk. She glanced at him and his tall form beside her and he nodded her on encouragingly. She pulled herself up into the bunk and rolled to the wall-side before shifting a bit and turning her head towards him, watching as he sat down and settled down inside the bunk beside her. He made a quick move of laying the blanket over them, keeping the few inches between them, very much a present and existing thing.

"Get some sleep, Kenny." Bucky whispered softly this time. She was staring up at the wooden ceiling of the bunk above her again and could feel her heart beginning to race. His body heat next to her was a help - with the wall on her other side. She felt comfortably cocooned in for the first time, knowing if the Germans were to come in, Bucky was right there.

Kennedy slowly shifted her head to the right and looked towards Bucky again and found him wide-awake, staring at the ceiling of the bunk above them, too. She couldn't help it. She rolled onto her side and then shifted closer towards him, causing his eyes to meet hers again.

That silent stare down lasted for a solid minute, before she pressed her body up against his side and wrapped her arms around herself before pressing her face against his arm and letting out a sigh, his warmth infiltrating her body and making her feel at peace for once.

And to say it didn't take long for his own arm to lift up and pull her closer, as she quickly snuggled in at his presence wrapped around her body, his touch firm, but gentle, was an understatement.

"Someone likes to cuddle." he whispered to her. She grinned against his ribcage, before sniffling.

"Shut up." she whispered back. He chuckled back.

She could finally breathe.

#the ANGSTTTT #going back to my roots #listen i love a light-hearted piece as much as anyone but #angst is where i truly feel my brain kick in #LMAOOOOO #angst or hurt/comfort or both #it really butters my roll ya know? #kennedy x bucky #kennedy farley #bucky egan #john egan #john egan x oc #silver bullets #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #also.... #annie x brady #annie bradshaw hehe #ANNIE U ARE TOO GOOD MY GIRL TOO GOOD!!!!! we all need an annie in our lives <3 #kennedy here just really hits me #i myself in her in many ways i wont lie #just wanting to be strong for the ones around her #breaking down when night finally dawns #yeah - that hits me deep and kennedy u beautiful girl deserve only the best #bucky here was a perfect counterpart to this entire spiral of these '15 minutes of hell' that kennedy talks about #brb emotional about these more than anything #kennedy is also so the archer by ts coded send tweet #SOBBING THEM

[lit-in-thy-heart]

been trying out a new writing technique recently and it's called chilling tf out and reminding myself that fic is written for fun.

#making a little joke but also being genuinely serious #with my merwaincelot wip i've embraced having little overviews in brackets for what i want to happen #but idk how to write it just yet #if i'm feeling stuck or bored #and if i'm getting tired or the idea of writing an ending is getting overwhelming then i just call it a day and do something else #and yeah it's taking longer to write things (perhaps gone are the days when i wrote and posted a fic in the same night) #but it's working wonders with my brain #and it's amazing how as soon as i relax i get hit with several new ideas #just trying to adjust my thinking in that projects over a long period of time are not something to worry about #like i'm also planning a knitting project that i'll be doing well into september #(mainly bc yarn is expensive and my needs are hella specific) #but that's okay! #not everything has to be done and dusted immediately! #i'm glad i took a break from writing and i think it did do me good but damn i'm happy to be back #and enjoy still learning how to get even more out of my hobby #but anyway i'm just feeling a lil proud of myself today so #lit talks #personal

[shirozora-draws]

... anyway! if i wasn't so tired/busy this whole fucking month, i'd already have gotten to a comfortable spot in the 3quelfic Part 1 revisions and started the final outline and first draft of That Staircase Doodle fic, but i am tired/busy so the best I can do right now is spend way too much time sketching and cleaning up said sketching some thoughts on Reluctant Mand'alor Din and Jedi Knight/Ambassador Luke.

i intentionally left in the older sketch line layers to 1) show my thought(?) process as i figure out a composition and 2) remind myself that this is NOT a polished piece, I don't got time to make fancy arts beside the 3 final prints for the print shop project.

I have one more scribble ready to go but it's thematically so dramatically different from this little one that I'll post it either Thursday or Friday night.

... I should.... actually get back to writing fic actually.

#shirozora draws #dinluke #skydalorian #lukedin #din djarin #luke skywalker #the mandalorian #star wars #AU sketching #story: the eros and psyche on the staircase fic #actually inspired by me reading a refresher on the actual 'eros and psyche' story #i would say this is so loosely based that you'd break your eyeballs squinting for connection #just have to believe my brain connected 'eros and psyche' with a dinluke doodle based on a pre-raphaelite art #IT MAKES SENSE I SWEAR #anyway this came out of the thought of eros sweeping psyche off her feet and carrying her off to his home #but here it's a lot about the elusive reluctant mand'alor letting down around this bright jedi knight #and showing him what it's like to have a jetpack and be able to fly (more like ditch boring council meetings at will) #and luke who's really just there to get friendly enough with the mand'alor to ask for grogu's future #gets swept away and starts falling in love #shit i need to write this down somewhere shit fuck fuckkkk

[purple8cat]

I THOUGHT THIS PART FROM VNC CHAPTER 62 LOOKED FAMILIAR

i mean they're not. the exact same but they are very similar to each other!!

Also this could just be me but I feel like that these two have a lot of parallels. Break's family are the Rainsworths, who are not his biological family. Johann's family is Dante and Riche, who also not his biological family.

When someone they care about dies/gets threaten their first instinct is murder. When the Sinclairs died Break killed 116 people to bring them back, and when he thought Reim had been permanently dead he killed Fang. When Vanitas had threaten to kill Dante, Johann told him that he'll kill him if he meddles with his family.

Another thing they have in common is that there both, how do I put this, angry in some way/some point in their life? Break had been bitter and depress after returning from the Abyss but then learned to smile again because of Shelly. Johann... Okay, I can't say much about Johann because not much has been revealed about him yet BUT he definitely is sketchy!! With how the Dhampirs are treated it wouldn't be far off to say he would be angry at the world/society. He also has been shown to not like Noé much. Johann has also been shown to be very protective of Dante and Riche, so it's possible that he could've been similar to how Break had acted in the past, and now has something to live for and would do ANYTHING to protect it.

Another thing I'm just now realizing and probably should've brought up first but they have similar vibes/atmospheres. Though Johann is more flirtatious and Break is more... Weird. I guess. Eccentric, if you want a fancy word. They're also have this whole... How do I explain it? They're good at observing/analyzing things is I guess the best way to explain it?

I think I'm gonna stop there, there was something else I kind of wanted to talk about but I think it was a little bit of a stench fkdjgfjdf. I could be wrong about some of these, I didn't mean to write this much so basically all of it I wrote on a whim. Whatever my brain thought of I wrote down which resulted in this (which reading over it might be noticeable considering this post is kinda a mess kgjkfjgjfj). There's also the fact that some of the Johann stuff was just speculation, which could 100% be wrong. But I do think some of it I'm right about!!

#the mochijun brain left me for a month but then came straight back #love how i originally just wanted to point out that those panels looked similar and ended up writing a essay #ok a essay is a exaggeration BUT STILL #listen these two specifically have just flooded my mind recently #anytime i make a post i worry that someone else made one just like it especially since i don't constantly interact with one specific fandom #so hopefully no else has made something to similar kdfkjfjg. or at least just went into less or more detail than i did #anyways actually tags now #pandora hearts #the case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte #vnc #xerxes break #vnc johann #bro its 1:30 in the morning i need to go to sleep kdfsjfljf #purple8cat

[rainbowpufflez]

Bo got one singular note on his last post so here’s Gus and Lys’s breakup scenario he randomly wrote one day

It’s not like Augustine and Lysandre hadn’t had squabbles before. Little things tend to build up in relationships and sometimes things bother someone more than they usually would. But this was the first fight where things got heated. Where something was, different.

Augustine doesn’t remember how it started, what he must’ve said that caused Lysandre’s mood to shift. He remembers watching Lysandre’s muscles stiffen and his gaze go distant, brows furrowing down along with it. He remembers Lysandre making a snide remark, something that implied that Augustine was beneath him. And so it started.

Soon they were both yelling. While they both had issues communicating to each other what they needed, it had never gotten this bad before. They always found a way to calm themselves before exploding. However, they were past that point this time.

Words fell to the floor and meant nothing. Time seemed to stretch on for thousands of years between them. A never ending battle, where Augustine bared his horns in a defensive state and Lysandre squawking out shrilled calls in attempt of explanation.

“You don’t understand!”

Augustine remembers Lysandre choked out. When had they both started crying?

“Oh and how do I not understand?! Have I not been understanding?! Have I not loved you with all my heart and soul?!”

He replied with a harsh gesture back at himself. It felt like there was a ticking time bomb between them and it was on its last second.

Then it slipped out.

“Because I’d KILL for you Augustine. Because I’d DIE for you.”

The room went still.

Before Augustine even could process what was said, he shouted back.

“I NEVER asked you to do that.”

Lysandre took a step back, it seemed he realized what he said as his muscles stiffened again. And Augustine’s response only made it worse. He coiled into himself.

“Augustine, I-“

“Get out.”

He didn’t expect that response. He moved, still stiff. His talons were no longer ready for attack, instead they were opened palm out. A last attempt at solace.

“Augustine please I didn’t mean that—“

“I said get out.”

Augustine was still on defense. His hooves dug into the floor as he stood firm. He didn’t look at his counterpart. He just waited.

“Alright.” Lysandre eventually responded when he realized that it was futile to work it out now. “I’ll leave.”

There was a small shuffle, a collection of things. A bag, his keys, his coat. No words were spoken between the two as he made his way to the door.

As Lysandre reached the door he turned to face Augustine one last time. “Gus… I… I love—“

“Out.”

And so that was that. Lysandre’s brows furrowed down again at his words, not able to hide a bitter, hateful look. He gave a firm nod then swung open the door and left.

Augustine was left in silence in the middle of the room, holding himself in an attempt to not break down. But instead of mustering up any last remaining tears, or truly processing what Lysandre had said, he just felt a wave of exhaustion overcome him.

He found himself falling back on the couch, gripping at a throw pillow with a gaudy checkered design. A design Lysandre hated but he loved.

His energy drained, he found his eyes closing. And with the last remaining energy he wondered.

Had he always been that way?

#come get ur angst PerfWorldshippers #that’s why I’m here anyway /hj #I’m not too confident in my writing ability but yknow I hope yall like it! #idk how to tag this tho #Bo describes them like the legendaries cause it’s funnieee #uh-oh they’re breaking up (they need to) #Lowkey was inspired off of a song I have on their playlist #Boooo Lys ur soooo dramatic /aff #get these French people outta my brain #/j #professor sycamore #lysandre pokemon #perfectworldshipping #writing #one day I will have art again #rainbowpufflez writing #ig I’ll make a writing tag in the off chance I ever post more of my writing

[skitskatdacat63]

Can someone assure me it's okay that I haven't finished any drawings in over a week 😭😭

#apathy :) #its like. impossible to assure myself its okay to take a break #yknow you see other people post so frequently #and you somewhat feel like you're falling behind #i cant keep up waugh #lol tho i wonder if I'll have a sudden desire to draw once finals week starts in a couple weeks #i assure you that when i have to work on a bunch of big assignments #my brain will suddenly be like DRAW DRAW DRAWK #its just annoying when you have a good amnt of freetime and you cant kick your brain into gear #I've been sketching but ahhhh just a lot of concept stuff #i have an idea for a chibi comic but i want to pair it w a full drawing #so uhhh thats never happening dhfjkg not happening for a bit ig #i need to come up w more chibi comics #easier and faster to draw and they dont kill me :) #it just feels lesser idk why #tumblr is my diary atp sry djfkkglg #i used to write down on paper or my notes app when i was in a bad mood #but god that shit is sooooo bitter and i cant reread it at all #theres smth about knowing im putting myself out there that keeps it a bit calmer #and it feels more comforting :) #catie.rambling.txt