#shallow-gravy

[wintersongstress]

crying screaming throwing up gently kissing the other awake for arthur pls isabell im so thirsty my crops are dying

It's been so long...let's see if I still got it.

Tenderly, the morning light fell and came to a sunny rest upon your eyelids. In a bedroom, in a quiet stretch of forest, loveliness reigned and stillness too. The window framed an opal-colored sky and a pair of fond arms enfolded you. The cobwebs of a dream were swept away by the warm clarity of the present. You blinked in the angle of sunlight, nuzzling your nose into a familiar, steadfast shoulder and sensed the heart beating in the body beside you. You remained still. The scent of evergreens and a whiff of starched pillowcases filled your nose. The chest beneath your splayed palm rose and fell and you glanced along the planes of him, lying with your shins entangled, clothes wrinkled, and hair tousled.

Arthur’s lashes looked like fine bristles of gold in the sunshine. A contentment suffused his features while he rested, the sight of which never failed to strike you—how the lines beside his eyes smoothed, his brows relaxed, his jaw slack. On an elbow you rose cautiously, your toes traveling past his ankles.

A breeze through the trees softly tossed the boughs of the cottonwoods, the buds on the point of bursting and snowing in the air. Robins whistled, and you paused in this sun-warmed angle to look upon your lover’s face without him knowing for the simple pursuit of transfixing this moment in memory. You placed a thumb on the soft cushion of his mouth and let it trail into the valley of his chin’s scar, delighting in the sharp prickle of his beard, and cradled his jaw in that hand. The freckle on his cheek beckoned you next, and you leaned to press a kiss against it, grazing stubble, eyes closing as the muslin of your nightdress slipped down your shoulder.

Your heart skipped as the lips beneath your touch softened and brushed over the pad of your thumb. A sound came from low in Arthur’s throat, like a groan of laughter, and there was a murmur of cotton as his coarse, large hand wrinkled your chemise. He nudged your nose with his and rose from the hazy lake of sleep with a smile, one veiled by memory and tinged by dreams, and your mouths melded together like two raindrops meeting on a window, seamless and certain. When the kiss dissipated, Arthur’s hand lifted to your denuded shoulder and his fingertips as they touched your skin were softer than a breeze flitting over flowers. How slowly they dragged as he traced the line of your collarbone, how openly his eyes spoke of adoration as he met your shy glance of affection.

“You’re smiling,” he observed, bringing his knuckles to your cheekbone, and kissed each corner of it.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan #asks #*my writing #EITHER IT GETS PROOFREAD OR IT GETS POSTED SO IM SORRY FOR ANY ERRORS #shallow-gravy #thank u for getting me out of my cage

[derelictheretic]

Can I pleeeease see some Joseph staring at Dean like a creep. again 💕

Yes right away, one self indulgent Jo being himself and Dean being done with his shit wip coming right up 🫡 (This is is set at St. Francis, during one of Dean's many long stays with Jacob, he's too tired and hungry to care about Jo rn)

Joseph's eyes locked with Dean's as he sat down and he felt any of the words he'd been mulling over in his head trickle away like water down a stream. It was dark but Joseph could make out various cuts and bruises on the deputy's face and arms, his eyes tracing over the cut on the bridge of his nose and blood dried on his temple. He shakes his head gently and sighs, Dean frowns. Neither of them say a word.

In the dark Dean's brown eyes were like dark pools of molten syrup, an endless void staring back at him with only flickers of those dangerous embers rearing their heads. There was also a distinct fear shimmering within their depths, usually hidden so well by that raging inferno ignited by the sunlight shining in them. Joseph couldn't quite determime where that fear originated or what it was for but it was unmistakable, especially as Dean pressed his back against the bars of the cage and stared him down similar to how a caged tiger would stare down its captors.

He wasn't scared of Joseph, he'd made that clear since they first met; no Dean Sinclaire wasn't scared of men or wolves—his fear went deeper. And if Joseph could only follow down that winding path obscured by vines and thorns perhaps this whole process could move forward quicker. Dean wouldn't be in a cage, he'd be where Joseph had wanted him all along.

But the honey covered chocolate eyes gave up no key to see more than those glimpses, the crease in his brow and downturn of his lips gave no indication of anything other than that grinding furnace that never seemed to quell.

"Are you gonna stare at me all night or do you have another tragic story to regale to me?" Dean cuts through the burning silence as he pulls his knees closer to his chest, further closing himself off from him.

Joseph blinked. Then he smiled.

#misc: wips #misc: tag game #Far Cry Tag #si/oc: deputy dean sinclaire #ship: Through Heaven's Eyes #dean answers #shallow-gravy

[englass]

WIP Round-Up

Tagged by: @deputyash @fadedjacket @shallow-gravy @just-mint-to-be -- thank you, much love to you all! 🤗🥰

Tagging (optional as always): Everyone back, as well as @weekend-writer @starsandskies @words-and-seeds @littlegoldfinchh @chyrstis @chazz-anova @derelictheretic and anyone else that wants to do it.

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPS or how many you want

A/N: Oof been a while… depression is wild, y’all. Anyway, gonna count this towards WIP day tags as I’ve not really been working on anything lately, only occasionally jotting notes and things down.

-/-/-

Another fight scene attempt

Platonic (Yandere maybe) Genshin Impact ideas - Neuvillette

The Cold of a Steel Heart (Yandere robot/AI)

Yandere x Reader - Comfort

In The Arms of Comfort (FF14)

Copy of Home - FF14 thing

Platonic Star Rail - Welt

Final Hour - FF14

***: Weapon Description/Story #1

Walls; monster idea

#really into platonic stuff atm #found family for the win #shame i can't find motivation to write any of it down #also not an extensive list #literally just stuff done in the last few months #if we looked at all my wips we'd be going back years #and i'm not prepared for that level of shame #also much MUCH love to those that still tag me in these things #it's nice to know i've not been completely forgotten ya know? #even if i am terrible at responding... 😓 #it's still greatly appreciated all the same 💖 #tagged #tag game #wip day #wip roundup #deputyash #fadedjacket #shallow-gravy #just-mint-to-be

[florbelles]

Ooooo what was Lyra beloved doing during the failed arrest?

okay so. lyra is the project's woman on the ground after fenegaling her way into the arrest party on extremely ambiguous credentials, thank you to this nancy (here's this archaic piece of burke being super thrilled by the prospect). "why is she here" everyone asks. "insurance" nancy and lyra say. you know! for recording! for transparency! don't want to have a hiccup like that nasty little incident in texas!

she is, in fact, there for insurance, in case nancy can't be reached or things go sideways earlier or more dramatically than anticipated. she is also genuinely recording — and burke shoots first, as she thought he would, everything should be tied up just splendidly. (he is also the one who cuffed joseph, the department having no junior deputy to speak of, or at least not one who didn't call in sick that day and every day after. good for them). the helicopter still crashes. joseph still climbs out, and lyra with him; staci, joey & earl are all taken as they always were.

burke still runs.

lyra takes off after him, knives out and beak bloody etc etc etc; she chases him down to the same building he holes up in in-game, but, having rashly hunted him with only her concealed knife she brought to the arrest, he takes her hostage at gunpoint in the hopes of both using her for leverage to get out of the county and, in the long term, as a high-ranking member of the project that can be brought in for questioning.

john does not take this well. john bombs the bridge before burke can leave the county. lyra gets her critical side wound in the crash while trying to force her way out of the window while handcuffed. she regroups with the peggies at the river, and burke is sent to faith to get blissed out of his mind and forget what he knows about her. she goes to dutch's island herself and shows up on his doorstep, bleeding heavily from her side, and tells him that the reaping has begun and asks for shelter to get inside his bunker and scope out what he knows.

5/10 would probably still ride along for the failed arrest again

#this part is so fun for me personally. burke & lyra hostile hostage spinoff when #oc: lyra fairbanks #shallow-gravy

[simplegenius042]

🌹 🌹 please ☺️

Of course! Here's a snippet of two sentences from another small FC5 WIP I call You're Almost Like Family.

Oh! And it's a "character stuck in a groundhog loop" scenario. Here's a hint: It's not Deputy Silva Omar who's stuck.

Now have some tiny snippets of John's POV below:

He did hope that Joseph wasn’t planning on having the Deputy replace their current Faith. The older of the two women hardly seemed like flower girl material, nor the type to play the submissive and docile role. She was quite serious, never obnoxiously carefree and unnecessarily joyful. She was smart, in patience and strategy, always quick on her feet and ready to use the environment to her advantage. She masked her emotions well, but never for the purpose of adhering to a performance.

Her intentions, however misguided, were always clear. Much like Joseph and Jacob. And a bit of himself too, the longer John thought about it. It was almost eery just how similar yet so different she was to the family. He could even say their paths were always meant to cross. The coming of the Collapse and her divine role in the prophecy only ensured the inevitable.

#far cry 5 #far cry the silver chronicles #wip: you're almost like family #john seed #joseph seed #jacob seed #faith seed #the seed family #oc: deputy silva omar #thank you for the ask #shallow-gravy #also looking forward to read the next chapter of your fc5 fic

[callthedarknessdown]

🌺💜SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING 💜🌺

Jess 🥺 The love in my heart for you is immense!! You make me smile and you've always been ceaselessly supportive of my writing, my gifs, and me altogether. I can't express how wonderful I think you are! Thank you for being such a kindness and a light in my world 🌹💕

#sending this right back to you mwah!! #shallow-gravy #asks #💞🌈💞🌈💞🌈

[paganminiskirt]

Okay those all sound incredible but please give me more of Derori!

Oooooh, that’s a good one. I started it much more recently than the others.

Derori is a Yakuza fanfic, but it’s written about a character who never appears on screen, so it’s fairly easy to understand from an outside perspective. Canonically, the main character of the series’ best friend, Nishiki, has a heart wrenching turn to evil which is brought on in part by his inability to secure a transplant heart for his terminally ill younger sister, Yuko. This piece is set in an au where he does manage to get her a transplant heart, though he resorts to extremely unethical means to do that. So Yuko survives, but Nishiki still has his turn to evil, with the only major difference being that she’s alive to witness it.

Yuko Nishikiyama is the perspective character throughout, and is an OC in every capacity but her name, since she has no canonical lines or appearances in-game despite being so important to the plot. (Which I’m still mad about!) Because of her chronic illness, she’s not very well socialized, prone to reclusion with a rich but private inner life, and is extremely unused to expecting to live past the age of thirty. But she is moderately optimistic about the path that’s been laid out before her. Across the board, things should be looking up. (Also, another one of the fics I mentioned, “An Inductee’s First Meditation,” is about her too.)

The story follows her as she settles into a large flat in a quiet, upper class neighborhood, supported through her recovery by her criminal brother. She had previously been supported by their foster father, (another yakuza member who was secretly responsible for the murder of their parents,) but he’s now been alienated from her without her knowledge as a result of Nishiki’s adoption of treacherous and ultraviolent tactics. Her surrogate brother - Kiryu, the main character of the yakuza series, Nishiki’s ex best friend - is in prison, and her surrogate sister has fallen off the face of the earth for reasons no one will fully explain to her.

…and Nishiki himself, the most significant relationship in Yuko’s highly sheltered, restricted life and the only consistent support system she’s ever known, has slicked back his hair, stopped wearing colors and started devoting all his time to brutally establishing an expansive yakuza family under their shared surname. In other words, he’s done the most obvious face-heel turn known to man, and if Yuko loves him fiercely it’s becoming more and more apparent to her that, at some point during her trip to the brink of death, Nishiki became a completely different person.

All of this swirling together at once creates an uncanny valley effect around the ostensible luxury and ease of the life she enters once she leaves the hospital. On the surface, everything is perfect, better than Yuko ever thought it would be; Nishiki’s made a name for himself! She’s not gonna die, at least not anytime soon! She’s free to start doing substantial activities for the first time in ages, taking classes and buying clothes and drinking alcohol and just existing! But it’s all undercut by the knowledge that something terrible has gone on behind the scenes, the inevitable danger Nishiki’s work is going to put her in, and the… semi unwanted sexual interest his horrible second in command has taken in her. (She doesn’t like him, right? Naw. Never. He’s gross.)

The title, Derori, is “a word coined by the Japanese painter Ryusei Kishida. The word expresses a grotesque and mysterious world and it can be regarded as a notion that penetrates deeply into Japanese art.”

I took that quote from an article on Shukado Contemporary, and the attached examples of art pieces that exhibit this trait are not frightening because of anything particularly horrible going on in the paintings themselves, but because of little details which suggest something sinister just beyond the view of the observer. That’s significant because it’s essentially an artistic reflection of the circumstances Yuko is in throughout the story; it’s obvious to her that something is wrong, she just can’t point to any one major piece of evidence to justify her suspicions or explain why she thinks things have shifted.

That, combined with the ghost/yurei motif at work within Yuko’s story which represents both the mental toll spending so long living with a major illness has taken on her and the isolation from her loved ones that it caused - and also the fact that the stolen organ her brother procured without her consent is beating in her chest the whole time, actively keeping her alive - contributes to a deeply morbid, painful, and grotesque AU that includes aspects of a coming of age story, domestic horror and crime drama.

I started writing it a week ago to the day, and this is what I’ve got so far. Ramin Djawadi’s cover of Wicked Games set the mood for it. (And peep my yakuza sideblog if you’re interested.)

#asks #shallow-gravy #yuko nishikiyama

[statichvm]

HAPPY BIRF MACY BELOVED ❤️❤️❤️❤️

THANK YOU MINE BELOVED 💜💜

#birthday 2022 tag #asks #shallow-gravy

[snake-in-the-garden]

Would love to see a bit from Ramona's Therapy Pep Talk Session #47577!

This is from another prompt I need to fill. Ramona feels like shit because of something that wasn’t her fault and Grace and Jess are here to help. Enjoy the platonic cuddling.

When Ramona finished recounting the event, Grace hugged her from the side. “You know that wasn’t your fault right?” she affirms. “You didn’t know that Peggie would end up like that.” Strung up and branded. Ramona could still see her vividly. “Then why do I feel like it is?” She laid back on the bed the three were sitting on and the other two women followed suit. Grace put her arm over their friend’s stomach and Jess got close adding to the warmth. “‘Cause you care too damn much,” Jess claimed, earning a quick glare from Grace. “Well it’s true. You let her go because it wouldn’t have been right to kill someone begging for their life and that’s pretty damn admirable.” Ramona’s heavy heart started to lighten.

#ask #ask game #shallow-gravy #wip #oc: ramona belmont #grace armstrong #jess black

[zevlor]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎊🎂🎈🎉🎁

thank you so much!!! 💖🥰🥰🤧🤧💖🥰💖💖

#ask #shallow-gravy #birthday messages

[derelictheretic]

Could we have a little sample of Dusk Til Dawn? 👀(Also rip to your notes wips I am so sorry!!!)

Absolutely! I talked about it and shared a bit here but i'll share another snippet because i've been slugging through it the most recently! John pov my detested why are you so hard to write </3 (And thank you 😭 They will be missed, i'm just thankful it wasn't all of them)

The next morning John is alerted to the deputy waking by the sound of his bed creaking and their low pained groan that runs along the floorboards. He hurries to finish off what he was doing, tossing the dirty frying pan in the sink and putting the plate of what he would call a successful attempt at eggs benedict on a tray. He hums as he places a glass of juice beside it along with a fork and lastly a napkin.

He decided it best not to give them a knife for the time being, for his own safety. 

It was a spur of the moment decision to make breakfast, John didn't usually cook for himself let alone others but he was feeling particularly chivalrous this morning. And with his surprise guest in the condition they were in he thought it only polite; and perhaps his show of kindness would make them more inclined to follow his lead. 

Climbing up the stairs and heading to his room John carefully nudged the door open with his shoulder, walking in only to be immediately met with a gun pointed at him. His gun to be exact. Lovely. He forgot to take it from the bedside drawer while they were passed out, good grief he was losing his touch. He'd blame it on the mess of a night, being thrust into playing doctor had thrown him off his game is all. He would be more careful going forward.

"Good morning deputy, I hope you slept well." He greets, continuing inside as if the deputy wasn't pointing his own weapon at his head. If he played it calm and collected surely they'd understand he wasn't a threat to them right now, or at the very least stop pointing his own gun at him. They falter, eyeing him and the tray in his hand. Their brows knit together, clearly suspicious of him, but they lower the weapon and lean back against the pillows. Their body is still tense and index finger still hooked around the trigger so John keeps his movements slow and relaxed. The last thing he wanted was to get shot for trying to do a good deed.

"What are you doing?" They ask warily as he sets the tray down on the bedside table, wiping his hands on his jean clad thighs as he steps back. Giving them their space and allowing them to inspect the tray with a distrustful gaze.

"After a person loses that much blood they've usually got quite the appetite, am I wrong?" He asks, tone almost casual as he eyes their bloodied clothes and bruised skin. In the morning light their injuries are much more obvious, aside from the gash he'd stitched up the night before their skin was littered in cuts and the bruises painting their skin could almost mimic a very muddied galaxy. Not to mention the blood and grime covering them from head to toe—they'd most certainly seen better days. 

"You… Didn't cook that, did you?" They ask after a moment of eyeing the plate of what John would personally describe a very delicious looking breakfast. The deputy lowers their gun and glances at him for confirmation.

"I hardly think you're in the position to be picky about your food deputy, it's not poisoned if that's what you're thinking. I wouldn't let you ruin my sheets just to kill you in the most unsatisfying way I could imagine," John scoffs, somewhat offended they would think he'd do something so plain. They roll their eyes gently and push themself up more, tentatively reaching out and grabbing the fork on the tray. They cautiously take a bite, as if one wrong move would leave them choking and fighting for life. All the while they watch John from the corner of their eye as they slowly chew and eventually swallow; his expression remaining pleasant as he watches them. 

It was funny in an odd way, they were behaving like a feral dog brought in from the wild and given food for the first time. He'd be best to keep that thought to himself though, if only to avoid having his gun pointed at him again.

"Well look at that, you survived. Not the most awful thing you've tasted, hm?" He asks after a moment and they eye him for a second in contemptuous silence before nodding begrudgingly.

"No,"

#This has been in the works for months and I am genuinely excited to finish it I just have two more scenes I want to add to it #I have a love hate relationship with this wip and it's all because I decided to go with Johns pov. I am biting him (derogatory) #technically I could switch to the readers pov but i've committed at this point ahsjshsh #dean answers #shallow-gravy #nadine's wips

[englass]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by: @shallow-gravy — thank you hun! 🥰

Tagging (but optional): @derelictheretic @fadedjacket @chazz-anova @weekend-writer @starsandskies @chyrstis @words-and-seeds @littlegoldfinchh @wrathfulrook — and anyone else that’d like to do it.

To be honest, I’ve only really written little drabble pieces or experimental stuff last few weeks. Nothing major sadly. But since I’ve been trying to write a fight scene that’s been in my head for a while recently, figured I’ll share that at least. Not sure if I’ll do anything with it, but no harm in sharing I guess… just, kindly ignore the tense issues please; if nothing else…

-/-/-

With a flourish you brandish your gunblade, aiming it brazenly at your opponent with a taunting sneer. Finger restless against the trigger as the dignified entity glares at you, head tilted back haughtily as the grip on its staff tightens. Thunder booming with every sharply measured paw of its hoof against the air.

The proverbial countdown ticks, primordial rumbles and growls the warning bear of teeth as the atmosphere thickens. Crackles in the static as the air charges, the friction snapping and tension mounting. The durable leather of your gloves creaks as your grip tightens.

A sharp exhale, a short huff. Weapon hand drawing back in a smooth motion to rest your gunblade ready just behind you, stance shifting as you hold your free arm out before you. Hand angled, fingers a loose claw as the horizon of your arm becomes a makeshift retical; the unintended scope pinning your gaze to your levitating adversary.

Its hoof comes down; thunder a resounding roar.

Your lips quirk, the barest flash of teeth; the shameful zing of hunger.

Its eyes narrow. Raises its staff calm and deliberate, holds. Waits.

The thunder echoes, the air snaps.

The anticipation swells warm, your breath labours.

With regal might the staff comes down– vision whitening as lightning strikes with a shrill whistle, the ground between you scorched in an instant.

The countdown ends.

With a swiftness you kick off, racing across the distance before leaping into the air, coming down on your foe with a cry and heavy swing. Blade and staff connect, a momentary deadlock catching you midair.

Red eyes glance up at you, stern and unimpressed. Levin snaking along the length of its crimson staff in sporadic climbs that quicken with every distorted crackle, the orb at its peak glowing brighter with every charge.

You grit your teeth. Pull the trigger of your gunblade, catching the beast off guard with a grunt as the knock back shoves your arm away. Foot bracing against its staff to kick yourself away and follow the momentum. Twist into an unsteady landing that has you sliding back a few fulms. Blade swinging out, sparks catching as the tip rivets the ground. Applying force to push away on your back foot and dash back into the fight, blade uppercutting into the answering parry of its staff.

With a flurry you manoeuvre and step around its retaliating sweeps, static tingling along your weapon arm with every meeting. Hand tightening its numb grip as your weapons clash. Metal shrieking as the friction causes sparks to ignite, aether singing.

#super rough draft #hardly even mediocre #just something i’ve been playing and tinkering with #my writing #my wip #tag game #tag meme #wip game #wip wednesday #fic wip #tagged #shallow-gravy #thank you hun!!!

[stacispratt]

Happy birthday!!! 💐🌹🌸

thank you!!!! 💖🌷

#ask #shallow-gravy

[florbelles]

🎧 🎧 🎧

i. gibson girl, ethel cain // ii. youth, daughter // iii. wildfire, spelles

#ugh finally some consistent vibes..... #ty lovely <3 #radio #shallow-gravy

[belorage]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ❤️❤️

THANK YOU, BELOVED! I cannot believe it's that time again already, but you won't catch me complaining about too much of a good thing. Hope your Friday is treating you well! 🤍

#asks #shallow-gravy

[grinchwrapsupreme]

#the venture bros #hank venture #dermott fictel #shallow gravy #jacket #i don't care what dermott said pete did a great job mixing this