#AND THE WHISTLES HELLO??????
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In the Heat of Battle - P x Reader
Requested by @amethyst-huntress
Notes: The premise of this fic was requested by Amethyst-Huntress and I started absolutely foaming at the mouth at the idea, so huge thank-you’s are in order for that nugget of inspiration. Unfortunately, same as last time, I have still barely progressed through the game thanks to my lack of patience and skill, so please forgive that both of my fics take place extremely early in playthrough. Other than that, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy!
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Where is that damn puppet? You think to yourself, teeth gritted at the deadly inconvenience standing in front of you.
In the dark and the rain and the constant buzzing noise of Krat, you admit it's easy to get turned around. Even traveling with a companion -in your case, with Gepetto’s puppet- it’s easy to lose track of which gloomy alleys you’d already traversed. Even standing back to back, nudging each other with your elbows, even checking in every so often,“You still with me?” It was easy to get lost. But now, standing face to face with a candelabra wielding automaton and a rabid mechanical dog, you’re not feeling very generous towards your puppet companion. He’s probably searching for you in a frenzy at this very moment.
Ha.
Fat load of good it does you.
The automaton winds up and its eyes flash red across your face. Target locked. The candelabra comes crashing towards your head, but it's met instantly with the clanging cold steel of your sword. The automaton stumbles backwards. Its head cocks unnaturally to the side and you hear something whir, as if in frustration, beneath its face. It winds up again to strike you, but you’re quick and clever; you land a blow in the dead center of the loathsome thing's torso. A sick crunch of metal echoes as you draw the sword out of the brand new gaping cavity in its chest. The automaton sinks to its knees. You look down your nose at it, satisfied at your own skill. The enemy looks to be shutting down, but in a quick, almost desperate motion, its hand shoots towards your foot, grasping wildly. It's cold fingers close around your ankle, but you quickly stamp it out with your free foot. The automaton lets out a weak mechanical wheeze as its hand is crushed beneath your boot. For good measure, you take the hilt of your sword in both hands and slam the base through the miserable things forehead. It crackles, then collapses finally on the ground. You smile darkly at its now lifeless shell. Perhaps a little early.
A sharp bark cuts through the air and your head snaps to attention. Shit. You forgot about the damn dog. Before you have the chance to raise your sword again, the dog lunges at you. Razor sharp teeth clang dissonantly together and the sound ripples against the glistening walls of the alley. In an instant, you’re knocked to the wet, muddy ground; the iron paws of the mutt are already upon your chest. The mongrel snarls mere centimeters from your face, black oily fluid spilling from its mouth as if salivating. You groan and struggle beneath its weight but regain your grip on your sword just in time to catch its rabid jaw. The dog bites down on your blade, thrashing its head to either side. You strain against its unnatural strength, attempting to pull your weapon free. In one fell swoop you’ll rip it free and decapitate this fucking thing. Your fingers curl tighter around your hilt, you ready a strike, suck in one sharp breath and then-
You freeze.
A second blade appears, glinting in the gaslight, right between your eyes. Thick black fluid goes splattering across your face. The mutt goes limp, its full weight crushing your lower torso. A gasp is pushed from your lungs and you roll to the side, quickly shoving the robotic corpse away from your body. You kneel, palms pushing into the slick ground. Your heart is thundering beneath your shirt as you swallow frigid air hard and fast. When you finally catch a breath, you turn your head towards the owner of the blade; Pinocchio, your companion. He wipes the rapier against his trousers, cleaning the sludge from its razor sharp surface. You huff, blowing matted wet bangs out of your face.
“I had that under control.” You say sharply. P cocks an eyebrow at you, unconvinced. You feel your face burn in annoyance. “I did!” You insist, “Had you given me just one more minute I would’ve been fine. And probably less covered in this.” You jab your weapon in his direction, flecking dark oil across his shirt. He shoots you a slightly apologetic smile.
He knows you can handle yourself, he does. He just worries. You can’t blame him; you do the same thing. You’ve gotten quite close on these arduous journeys, saving each other's skins more times than either of you can count. As you wipe the sludge from your face, P extends his hand to you and begrudgingly you take it. Swiftly, he helps you to your feet. His eyes flicker up and down your face, narrowing on your cheek. He licks the thumb of his legion hand and streaks it across your cheek, lifting the remnants of black. You scrunch your nose up at him.
“Eugh- enough-” You whine, swatting the hand away. “Where did you run off to anyways?”
Pinocchio’s legion arm gestures behind his head. You squint through the darkness at the distant yellow lights of Hotel Krat up ahead. You grimace. It’s further still than you thought. “I don’t suppose you found some kind of underground shortcut?” P shakes his head apologetically. You both sigh, knowing you’ve got plenty of dangers yet to face before you’re given any time to rest. These days spent traveling have taken their toll on your bodies, but you’re at least grateful to have a friend in the gloom of Cerasani Alley. Your sword slides neatly into your belt as you walk ahead of Pinocchio. “Back to it then.”
As the two of you push forward, you notice a concerted effort on your companions' part to stick close to your side. At any strange noise or eerie shadow, P reaches for your hand. You squeeze back in reassurance that all is well. A bit unnecessary? Sure. But you don’t fight it. It’s much preferred to losing the poor boy again.
Drawing closer to your destination with only a few minor scuffles to slow you down, you reach a dilapidated fairgrounds. Sickly yellow light bulbs buzz overhead and cast an ominous glow across the entire scene. A ghostly music box melody plinks and permeates the air. You look to P quizzically.
“You’re sure this is the right way?”
P takes in his surroundings and gives you a curt nod. You grimace in reply. This decrepit place gives you the creeps.
Together you silently weave through wooden cutouts of circus performers, checking carefully for hidden enemies. It's suspiciously quiet, save for the phantasmal carnival music that grows louder as you approach an iron gate. Another barrier. Excellent.
“P?” You step aside and gesture to the locked gate. Pinocchio smiles slyly at you, boyishly pleased that there’s still a few things you can’t do without him. You want to roll your eyes, but you watch reluctantly impressed, as deep violet energy crackles around his fist. In one swift swing, he punches through the gate and leaves a smoking crater where the lock once sat. He shoots you a sharp smile, satisfied with himself.
And then you feel something. A great mechanical thud rippling beneath your feet. Your heads snap in unison towards the source and your eyes go wide at the sight of the staggering monster in front of you. At least 3 times your size looms the Parade Master, constructed of decaying parts and craquelured paint. Its massive fist alone is as wide as your body, and sways heavily at its side.
You unsheathe your blade, and its weight sinks your shoulders. It's not ideal for speed you admit, but the vindication after landing those obliterating killing blows to your enemies is unbeatable. Keeping your eyes locked on target, you whistle to catch Pinocchio’s attention. You started doing this early on. Whistles were a good line of nonverbal communication when you couldn’t afford a glance in each other's direction.
“Flank him?” You suggest. Pinocchio whistles quick and sharp in agreement. Your fingers tighten around the great sword and your chest thrums with anticipation. You jut your chin in the direction of your common enemy. “After you.”
Without looking, you know his brows are furrowed together in deep focus. You can perfectly visualize the way he lures the puppet away, his steps meticulously timed and graceful. As you wind your way behind the thing, you hear the clang of P’s rapier against tarnished metal. Your enemy rears its arm back, and you follow suit striking its vulnerable back with a satisfying SHUK! You yank the blade out of its now damaged shell and catch the briefest glance at your companion and oh. Oh. The way he looks at you.
With fascination?
Admiration?
It’s something greater, deeper than that. Your heart skips. But you shake yourself out of distraction, startled at the sound of your own voice calling out. Your lips move before your mind has time to catch up.
“MOVE!”
Exactly as you shout it, P dodges a strike from the Parade Master. The brute’s fist lands in the brick pavement, blowing a hole through it instantaneously. You gulp at the thought of your companion lying there instead, crushed. Your skin goes cold.
No. Never.
Knowing neither of you can afford another lapse in attention, you suck in one long loud whistle between your teeth. The Parade Master whips itself around to face you. Two huge lamp-like eyes glow sickly in your direction. This was intentional. You can distract for now and give your ally a moment to catch his breath. You ready both hands on your weapon and take a step back. The monster lurches forward, its steps accompanied by a horrid clanking sound.
“Get over here you fucking rust bucket…” You mutter grimly under your breath as the space between you and the looming threat of death shrinks. You breathe deeply and steel yourself, heels digging into stone. You watch carefully as the puppet rushes towards you, arms swinging wildly. Just when the behemoth is about to crush you beneath its huge frame, you duck between its legs and emerge from behind. There’s just enough time to land a solid blow. P’s rapier crosses with your greatsword, both your weapons plunging into the deteriorated creatures back.
“This one’s mine, P.” You snap, pulling your blade from its fresh wound.
“Mine.” P parrots with a smirk, retrieving his rapier as well. Being a man of so few words, you can't help feeling amused even given the circumstances. This is good. The beast is growing weaker. If you can both keep level heads this will all be over soon, you think to yourself.
At least until your enemy decapitates itself.
Your jaw drops as the Parade Master rips its own head from its massive shoulders. It wields its shiny new weapon like an enormous mace and swings it your way. It makes contact with the ground, and the impact alone is enough to shake your balance. You dive to the side, narrowly avoiding collision with the wall. You struggle to recalibrate, to size up the situation while keeping yourself out of the range of attack. You hear P whistle pointedly across the arena, waiting on your instruction. Your mind races for a plan and comes up blank.
“Hold on!” You shout, “Just- Just hold on, I’ll think of something.” You’ll have to if you want to leave this place in one piece. There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. All you can think to do is attack. And you do; your blade leaves white hot gash marks on the enemy, but it hardly seems to be enough against such a terrible and towering foe. You’ve angered it now, and it’s in a total frenzy. The Parade Master swings its massive head in your direction again and you raise your sword to block it. Half a second too late.
As your weapons collide, the impact sends you to the ground. You gasp at the sharp pain that shoots through your skull. There’s a ringing in your ears and a soft dark edge to your vision. You struggle against unconsciousness and fight to keep yourself upright. Things are moving slow; trails of light obscure the events unfolding in front of you.
You comprehend something catching the Parade Masters' attention, you watch the goliath wind up, you hear something cry out, and then hear nothing at all. A sick feeling churns in the pit of your stomach and bile rises in your throat. Something’s wrong. You search the scene frantically for your ally. Your line of sight flickers from the Parade Masters head to the ground slick with rain. Your throat tightens. With his face turned to the ground, his eyes fighting to stay open, lies Pinocchio. His rapier skitters across the stone, coming to a sudden halt beneath the foot of the Parade Master.
Something flashes through you, anger, grief, adrenaline; whatever it is, it propels you forward. Your weapon is suddenly weightless as you skid between the monstrous puppet and your companion. The head of the Parade Master collides with your sword and the sound echoes through the arena with an arresting ring. You breathe hard in disbelief of your own courage. Your teeth are bared and your furrowed brow is sticky with sweat.
“Don’t. Touch him.” You command, and you swear even your mindless enemy hears it. A deep guttural sound is forced from the very bottom of your lungs as you thrust your weapon through the center of the automaton's body. It doesn’t die, but you hear something inside it break, and the creature slows significantly as if becoming too heavy for its own armature.
You risk a glance over your shoulder. P looks like absolute hell, covered in grime, barely staggering to his feet. Your chest tightens at his condition, but he’s alive.
Alive. It’s enough.
The enemy screams in frustration, rippling orange flames and black smoke billow from the place its head once sat. You stare at the hilt of your great sword, still lodged in its heart.
“P, your sword-” You start, but your ally is already on it, your strategic minds miraculously attuned. He sends the rapier sailing -now free of the parade masters foot- towards your open hand. It whips past your head and slides perfectly into your grasp. With what's left of the enemy in your sights, you take a running start.
Time seems to slow; the taste of victory teases you. Your head is about to collide with the hulking hunk of metal just as you raise your boot and dig its heel into the hilt of your great sword. Its placement serves as a stepping stone, and you scale the furious beast. You clamber up its torso towards its shoulders and feel heat radiating from the inside. It burns your hands, which grip the edge of the cavernous socket of its missing head. The monster thrashes beneath you like a wild bull, desperate to throw you off. You tighten your grip, the white hot metal searing your palm. You force yourself to ignore the pain as you raise the rapier and plunge one final devastating blow into the blazing cavity. You feel the rapier obliterate whatever mechanism kept the Parade Master alive, and it crumbles finally beneath you.
Atop the shoulders of your freshly slaughtered enemy, you fall forward with a deafening CRASH. Your body tumbles to the ground. Your grip on the rapier goes slack. Exhaustion ripples through you, and you surrender to its sweet embrace.
You hadn’t even realized you’d lost consciousness until your eyes flutter open, met by the stunning blue gaze of your companion mere inches from your face. For a moment you forget yourself, the urge to sink into his arms is so tempting. But your pride wins out and you scramble into an upright position, barely awake. Pinocchio lets out a sigh of relief and you see his shoulders relax. Had he been just as terrified as you were at the prospect of losing him? Did that same dread sit in the pit of his stomach?
Your head swims with what-ifs, but you have no energy to find their answers. With strength that you’re shocked to still possess, you throw your arms around the puppet. Your fingers clutch the wet fabric of his shirt as if he might disappear the moment you let go. His body tenses at first, then melts under your touch. You feel his head settle between your neck and shoulder, solid and secure. Silently breathing in the smell of him feels like waves of relief crashing over your head.
You wish the journey could end here in the peace and quiet of this embrace, but you feel him begin to pull away and your heart sinks. Face to face with you, his eyes search for signs of damage, for something to mend. His hands find yours and you hiss involuntarily. His eyebrows knit together in concern. You try not to grimace.
“It’s nothing.” you promise, “Burned my hand, that's all.”
P looks down at your hand and cradles it gently in his own. With painstaking care, he lifts it to his mouth and places a feather-light kiss in your palm, then on each of your scraped and bleeding knuckles. He looks up at you through those thick raven-wing lashes and you notice a trace of your blood left on his lips. The sight makes your head swim and it takes the entirety of your willpower not to catch his mouth with yours. Your posture stiffens as you try to regain your composure.
“Well it’s not far now, is it?” You ask, deflecting back to the mission at hand. “There will be plenty of time to patch each other up at the hotel. Right?” You offer, already stupidly aching for the return of Pinocchio’s delicate touch. He blinks a few times, as if he were struggling to focus himself. But he nods enthusiastically. You feel a smile creep across your lips.
As you leave the destroyed fairgrounds behind, you let your good hand slip into that of your companion. The two of you venture forth, certain to never lose track of the other again.
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If you read this and enjoy it please let me know! Seeing your positive comments and tags absolutely warms my heart and motivates me to keep writing. Thank you so much to those of you who took the time to leave me some kind words on my last fic <3
#OOOOH MY GOOOOWWWDDDD#Y´ALL I'M (not) SORRY FOR THE AMOUNT OF TEXT IM ABOUT TO DROP BUT IF I DON'T IM GOING TO COMBUST!!!!!!!!!!!#LIKE LIKE LIKE THE DETAILS!#THE FLOW OF COMBAT!!!#BETTER THAN WATCHING AN ACTION MOVIE TF????#AND THE WHISTLES HELLO??????#SUCH A GOOD WAY OF COMMUNICATING PERIOD 😭😭😭#LIKE LOOK AT THEM BEING A TEAM 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️#NON VERBAL COMMUNICATION IS MY BREAD AND BUTTER!!!!#I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL!!!!!!!!!!!!#sdfasdgfdfgdaJGGRRRRRBBBBARBARKBARKBARKBbbbBJDHDUSYSIBSLSORKSIS#UNDERRATED I SAY!!!!#ALSO THE WAY P LOOKS AT US MID FIGHT--#OHHHHH MY GOD IM MELTING#READER SWEARING AND NOT BEING A DELICATE LIL FLOWER IN GENERAL#LIKE YESSS! YEEEEEESSS!!!!! YEAAAAAASSSSSSS!!!!!! YAAAAASSSSSSS!!!!!!!#US GOING FERAL OVER HIM GETTING HURT AS WELLLLLL#THE KISSES!!!!! ON THE INJURIES!!!!#BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO#SOMEONE CALL ME AN AMBULANCE ASAP#YOU HAVE NO IDEA. NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS#HAHa sorry im normal now-#not me acting like that one prozd video where he reads tags haha 💀#anyways *reblogs*#100/10 will read again 👍#op once again tysm for making this i owe u my life 🥺#lies of p#lop
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its been....... five? six? years since i was super duper crazy into funny train musical. i knew it would come back eventually.....
have some doodles
#i had a tumblr those five years ago but i think i deactivated it. if any1 remembers a textpost about cb microwaving mayonaise. that was me!#also i JUST NOW found out about some 2024 revival?!? hello??! the stars must have aligned.... i heard it whistling to me...#the bochum rewrite made me so mad i straight up left the fandom LOL im glad stex isnt totally over#absolutely devastated at caboose getting nuked forever but i heard GB is a butch lesbian now so im kind of locked in#starlight express#pearl the observation car#dinah the dining car#whatever c.b.'s tag is#c.b. the red caboose
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I feel like we don't talk about the gang's funky little whistle enough
#like hello???#thats so cute#like in windrixville??#they only used the whistle like twice in the book#but that's FINE#i still think it's so cool#the whistle needs more representation#the outsiders#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#johnny cade
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every now and then I see someone interact with one of my posts and when I look at their DNI I am very much on it, which can be explained with by one of three theories:
1.) I'm so fuckin hot/write horny so good that they are physically unable to not like and/or reblog it
2.) I am not nearly loud enough about the shit they find objectionable
3.) I forgot the third one. this isn't a bit, there absolutely was a third theory. and I forgot it between the first one and here. fuck's sake.
it's probably #2 but I'd like to think it's #1. possibly both.
#like i see you people who have transmisogyny dog whistles in your bio/dni/whatever. hello. hi. idk how you got here.#i'm glad we can agree that cnc and such is hot but please reconsider your other positions i guess?? bewildering stuff.
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Just some random pics of our favorite babygirl
#hello handsome#whistle noises#sexy ass old man#the first picture stays rent free in my head#my god#he looks great in white tanks#and that fifth pic makes me go feral#and the last in the car#that one is nice too#honestly just all of them#all of them are great#he's my babygirl#😊😊😊#dafussy sunday#willem dafoe
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Ever met an engine that talked so much you wish they had an off switch? Well too bad even that doesn't work
#ttte#ttte james#talking engine series#i discovered by accident that the remote for my led lights sets this guy off#on off and the red button all make him whistle and say hello#also please excuse my gross nails i wanted to paint them for pride but never got around to finishing them#now they're all urgh
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You can’t spell Aaron Hotchner without hot
#you can’t spell Aaron Hotchner without hot#he’s so fine#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#whistles#hello hello#my my my what have we here#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#criminal minds hotch#hotch#so hot and sexy
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i will grit my teeth and my fists and finish this stupid radar edit if it kills me
#IM SORRY RADAR STAJS IM GONNA FIND THE MOTIVATIOJ I SWEARRR !!!#i just have so many ideas floating around in my head that i can’t wait to work on#including the superman hawkeye edit#but also i have this other idea with hello goodbye by the beatles that transitions from hawktrap to hunnihawk#a transition edit that goes klinger -> radar -> frank -> margaret -> trapper -> hawkeye -> henry#i have a trapper edit in mind to the real slim shady#a henry edit to fish and whistle#lord#i need help#lgbt#lgbtq#mash#m*a*s*h#mashposting#mash 4077#mashblr#radar#radar o’reilly
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decided for giggles to see what dsmp has been up to in the. Two and a half years since I last looked
Anyways so canon is trashfire but the part of me that started sunbringer in dsmp is now stirring to make More stuff. Like a "the universe reset thing but dream is still in prison so it doesn't reach him" thing that I'm trying to remove from brain bc I actually didn't do the catching up via vods and instead looked at fandom reaction for instructions and uhm.
Yeah no I genuinely want to write this it's gonna be so interesting but also who even does dsmp anymore like is there an audience
#dsmp#Anyways reminder to everyone that's new here that sunbringer started in dsmp#and therefore the current hermitcraft fic will mention multiple dsmp characters#Like. There won't be a fic for dsmp in sunbringer bc I can never decide how I wanna approach it#But the reason its called sunbringer is bc I used to be a dream apologist for a hot minute in 2020#(tbh. Not an apologist but also still standing in the “if I met c!tommy I would also want to hurt him” camp. like fuck that kid)#Anyways so the sunbringer is dream he fought the original ender dragon and won the best prize aka the literal sun#And uhh#Also he and tubbo are brothers in that one and there used to be a prophecy abt how dream gonna die at the hands of a human child#Which is. Why sunbringer dream did everything#He's a “self fulfilling prophecy as in I'm working to fulfill the prophecy on purpose” type guy#So he meets his first confirmed human child that fits all the criteria for the prophecy and its tommy#And he goes “well how do I convince this child to murder me” and tbh does a pretty good job at it I think#Also tubbo reincarnates and is a seasons god so rn is spring tubbo but in the hermitcraft fic we get mentions of summer and winter tubbos#Idk#dsmp au#Sunbringer au mentions in tags ig#Anyways tho the new dsmp au idea is gonna combine w one I had in like early 2021 I think#Featuring c!george bc I think using the xd bit to have George communicate w dream of the original world in dreams would be. Interesting#... Goddamnit I'm gonna have to name this one grass whistles like the old george au was called#Anyways I'm back to being a dsmp enjoyer by accident bc one of my mutuals rbed a post on how its been a while since dsmp on dashboard#And I genuinely enjoy some of the fanmade stuff for it. Like the music is all good stuff obvs but like#Bc I'm deep in fandom gachatube reaction vids. That community is so good in terms of what they do to dsmp#Like hello this is stupid good stuff#They straight up do like. Blinking. And microexpressions. And lip syncing the text to the character#Ghhkhj
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I just got jump scared by a robot with a child’s voice
#cookie speaks#it came rolling uo the hall and whistled at me#I thought it was a person so I turned out#around*#then it said hello#and got heart eyes#I am Disturbed#my hospital bought this instead of giving everyone raises#obscene
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I saw this in your priest post - "I thought maybe people will think I’m weird but now I say fuck it bc Anne Rice never shunned away from people thinking her stories/characters were strange/too much" YES. Yes! Not to talk shit but I have no idea how Anne Rice of all people attracted a fandom full of conservatives. We have to keep being freaks on main LOL don't let anyone scare you!!!!!!!!!
Yes!! Thank you!! I can’t believe some of the takes I’m reading from fans regarding some of the things she wrote! It’s what I love about Anne’s books! It’s refreshing to read someone who doesn’t shy away from expressing exactly what she wants, no matter how people may perceive it. That makes a book so much more interesting to me. Luckily there are still amazing Anne Rice/VC girlies who truly are exactly like her, and express themselves however they want, no matter what anyone says. And I was so happy to find them bc girl I was drowning in the literal dumbest takes I have ever read regarding vc characters on Twitter.
(Tw*tter is the absolute worst place to find good takes on literature in general, but some takes I read about my favorite <3 goodest <3 bestest boy <3 Armand <3 were so appalling I was genuinely speechless. They love to misinterpret my boy over there. Alas, everyone can have their own opinions, no matter how wrong I think they are) Imagine getting offended by Lestat eating Dora out on her period lmaoo I can’t
💕💗
#anne rice#vc#vampire chronicles#armand#time to get ready for work and think about how Louis whistles to himself in dark streets so mortals hear him coming I’m-#TO KILL TO DRINK BLOOD AND TO HAVE FLOWERS#THATS SOMETHING ARMAND ONCE SAID#HELLO CAN YOU IMAGINE A MORE PERFECT SENTENCE FOR HIM#NO YOU CANT#<3
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jag borde ha förstått nåt när du tittade bort, att allting har ett slut, att allt det vackra är kort. nu sitter jag och fryser på en regning perrong. här kommer alla känslorna på en och samma gång. vi möttes mitt i vintern när mitt hjärta va tömt. jag placerade dig i drömmen som jag borde ha glömt.
jag sitter ensam kvar och hör varje tåg vissla hallå från ett ringlande spår!!!!
jag ska bygga mig en båt och segla tills det blir vår. JAG SKA FÖRSÖKA ATT FÖRTRÄNGA DOFTEN AV DITT HÅR. JAG SKA SKRIKA SÅ DET HÖRS GENOM ALL GRÅ BETONG
#if you guys are wondering why im not writing its bc i’ll never write anything more romantic than this song#’i should have understood when you looked away that everything has an ending that everything beautiful is short’#’now i’m sitting and freezing on a rainy platform. here come all the feelings at once’#’we met in the middle of winter when my heart was empty. i placed you in the dream i should have forgotten’#’i sit all alone and hear every train whistle hello from every curling track’#’i will build a boat and sail until it’s spring#I WILL TRY TO REPRESS THE MEMORY OF THE SCENT OF YOUR HAIR. I WILL SCREAM SO ITS HEARD THROUGH ALL GRAY CONCRETE’
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Wilbur wanders with a lightness of step hereto unforseen in him. He looks utterly relaxed. Almost radiant. The glow of his skin contrasting heavily with the fact that it seems … heavily bruised and scraped up, with several clearly articulated bite marks.
His signature coat, which he definitely left with, is also very noticeably missing.
He whistles as he walks, barefoot, hands in pockets, taking the time to notice flowers and interesting bugs he finds along his path.
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i think the one of the best things about being exposed to different cultures is finding out about other forms of affection, like yes, please expand my knowledge on the whole bandwidth of ways ppl love
#like sniff kisses... of course you need those! or personalised whistles between couples to call each other outside... hello?!#like the variation of tropes in romantic media of different cultural backgrounds is so !!#love in its form can be so varied and expressed so differently but it's always so lovely
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#HELLO?#NEW KEEPER ART?#WOLF WHISTLES LOUDLY#age of sigmar#Pieces of Perfection (Keepers of Secrets);#keeper of secrets#slaanesh
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.
#dont reblog#i got cat called for the first time#it was a quiet wolf whistle as the car passed and i feel bad but it made me feel good#im kind of surprised i got the reaction at all#i remember one time i was walking with my sister and a man leaned in to say hello to her and when i passed he leaned so far out of the way#from me like i was diseased#it felt good to be desired#ans an even sadder thought came to me that maybe they were making fun of me#i was actually feeling self concious as i walking because im still so heavy and it made me feel better#is it okay to feel conflicted about this?
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