#and uh.. really long

[wanologic]

reminder to take care of your loser human body

[uncharted-constellations]

The Princess and Hero of the First Great Calamity

The orange snoot is very important to me….

[remxedmoon]

y’know what? fuck you. *UNGRAYSCALES YOUR ISATS*

no wait come back there’s greyscale versions under the cut :(

[wasyago]

the brainrot won

[amphibianaday]

day 1421

[samgatinho]

FOR EPISODE 22!!!!

ok we ignore the fact that mumbo made his thumbnail + title abt the base . no its not bc i dont know how to draw buildings or smth. totally. no.

[andromeddog]

endgame

[getrope1]

M. .. Miku.....

[in-asterism]

Arcobaleno from @trilies 's Sevenfold AU

[cowardlykrow]

"That is where you are wrong, my boy!"

@ratb4stard3 and I deliver another Cowardlyghostbro's(™) collab ✨💛

[ju-liczka]

Long haired Morgott in my heart~

Tarnished making use of those fingers to make the prettiest braids for their beloved king UwU

[reigobun]

Evelyn Evelyn - a three buckets animatic

[elvyn]

She.

[iceman-soup]

amab reader x bot!ghost

It took years for Simon to trust you enough for this. It was a slow process, neither of you rushing, instead taking your time with your relationship: building it up over time, his and your confidence gradually raising with each new thing - small kisses, hugs; then eventually occasionally making out, regular cuddles.

But this? You'd thought about it, sure - but you couldn't quite believe it was actually happening until your lips were on his in your bedroom, hands delicately on his waist as if terrified he would break. Cautiously slipping under his shirt, pulling it over his head slowly to give him time to yank it right back on again if he needed. Eyes open, watching him slump back against the wall as his gaze follows you dumping his shirt on a nearby chair, then taking off your own and chucking it on top. His balaclava crumpled on the floor next to it.

"This alright, love?" you check. One hand moving to cup his cheek, the other hovering in mid air - unsure what to do. Ghost doesn't respond. His eyes are fixed on the carpet; scared. "You wanna stop, Si?" You shove your hands in your pockets.

His head snaps up, stare suddenly on you, laced with curiosity and still, slightly hidden away, fear. "No." His voice is blunt yet whispered, and he tilts his head slightly, "do you? We- we can, if y' want."

Your heart beats in your chest, trying to read his face. You shake your head. "Need you to be comfy, sweetheart," you insist, tentatively moving your arms to wrap around his waist, studying his reaction, "tell me what to do."

He hesitates, leaning into you, chest to chest as he lays his head on your warm, bare shoulder. Your fingers run absentmindedly up and down his back, tracing various scars like you have a million times before. His lips press to your neck, pausing a second more. Simon kisses your flesh, open mouthed and nipping a little, hands in your hair as he leaves a trail of marks up to your jaw, where you turn your head to capture his lips with your own.

"Gonna show me instead, pretty boy?" you murmur against his mouth, and he chuckles quietly; genuine, soft laughter for only your ears to hear. He brings you both together again, tongues in each other's mouths as you stumble towards the bed, clumsily sitting down on it with him straddling you.

Your hands drift to hold his belt, fingers skimming his body so he knows they're there; he breaks away for a bit to look down at you undoing it and his trousers, lifting himself up onto his knees so you can attempt to shimmy them down his hips.

"Stand up, love," you instruct gently, and he does, allowing you to take off his trousers and throw them on the chair - then doing the same with your own again. You'd seen each other in only boxers before, to change or go to bed, but this was different; of course it was.

"You're hard," he comments as if it's normal conversation. Taken slightly aback, you look down at yourself through the fabric then glance over at him.

"So are you," you grin, sitting back down on the bed, "want me to help with tha-"

"Yes."

Simon steps over to you, leaning down to kiss you again - slightly desperately, you note - and tugs a little at your hair. You hold his thighs, breaking away from his face to press small, loving kisses to his stomach and hips, your lips against the soft fabric of his boxers as you kiss his thighs. He doesn't make a sound other than slightly heavy breathing, but his hands massage your head, holding you close to him as if you're the sun on a cold, dark day.

You run a thumb between his skin and the waistline of his boxers, looking up at him. "Can I?" Waiting til he nods, then taking them off; noticing how he doesn't look down as he crawls properly onto the bed.

"Yours," he whispers simply, gesturing with a glance. You nod once, taking yours off too, shuffling to sit nearer to him, a hand on his chest as you lean in, kissing him deeply.

"Gonna prep you, okay?" you kiss his cheek, reaching for the lube on the side table and putting some on two fingers. "One at a time, and you say if I'm going too fast or anything, yeah?"

He lies down a little, tentatively spreading his legs; your heart skipping a beat realising how how vulnerable he feels right now. You open your mouth to reassure him, but he shuts you up by taking your clean hand in his own and giving it a light squeeze. "Ready," he murmurs, face turning red as you gradually push a finger into his hole.

"Relax, Simon," you coax, your index halfway in him as he holds your hand a little too tight for you to know he's comfortable. "You're okay, baby, promise."

Ghost cracks open one eye, staring at you. Relaxing - just a tiny, tiny amount. His voice is husky and shy. "Hurts."

"It'll feel better in just a minute, sweetheart." Reassure him. Kiss the scar on his ribs. Wait until he calms down then ever so gently pushing the finger in all the way; thumb stroking his knuckles when he groans quietly.

You're endlessly patient, letting him take as long as he needs to to adjust before topping up the lube on a second finger and carefully easing it in, pressing delicate kisses to his jaw and muttering praises in his ear; "doing so well, baby. Won't go faster than you want me to, love."

He rewards your care with half-held back moans and grunts, eyes opening every few moments just to check it's still you, hips bucking a little when he's ready for a third finger. And you give it to him, hesitating when he lets out one small sob; but then he whines a quiet "please," free hand nudging your arm to let you know it's alright.

Working gently to scissor him more than loose enough, terrified at the idea of hurting him, reassuring him it's okay when he asks if he can touch himself using as few words as possible. Easing him onto his side when he's prepped properly, facing each other cuz you know he'd hate any other position.

You put lube onto your cock; he watches, cuddling his head into your shoulder and his hands now tracing patterns onto the skin of your chest. You kiss his cheek, forming eye contact.

"Are you sure you want this?" You check, making sure he actually thinks for a moment before nodding. Your lips connect with his and you pull your hips together, groaning as he uses his own hand to put your dick into him. Giving him time to adjust before he's kissing your neck impatiently, big arms tenderly wrapped around you and little whimpers leaving his mouth that he needs you to move.

Rocking your hips into him, mixed moans filling the room, making sure to comfort and praise him and remind him to take care of himself as well. When he does, he's quick to cum all over yours and his stomachs, whining and pulling your bodies even closer.

"You want me to pull out when I cum, Si?" you ask, not stopping as you tilt his chin up to face you. He nods, smiling softly at being given the option. You slide out of him, kissing away his half-hearted complaints until you groan and thick white ropes of cum spurt from your cock, mixing with his on both your bodies, leaving the two of you panting and holding each other, sharing kisses every few seconds.

After several moments of just lying there, Simon grumbles and shifts uncomfortably. "'M all sweaty," he huffs, nuzzling his face into your chest even so. You run a hand through his hair, thinking. He pipes up again. "M' legs all shaky." You smirk knowingly.

"Want me to carry y-" he cuts you off with an eager nod. Cheeky bastard didn't even let you finish the sentence. Nevertheless, you haul his large frame into your (thankfully) strong arms, taking him into the bathroom and setting him down on the edge of the tub. "Bath?" He shrinks into himself a little at the exposure, but hums in agreement. Still vulnerable. Still scared.

You turn on the taps, getting the right temperature before sitting on the bathmat on the floor. Si slides down to curl up in your lap, clinging to you and scattering kisses along your jaw. When the bath is full enough, you let him get in after you. Keep him feeling secure. You hold his hand to steady him as he steps into the water and lays down. Cradle him in your arms, palming water through his hair and washing the half-dried cum off both your bodies.

Towelling yourself off afterwards as he does the same with his own; looking away when he asks you to. Changing into soft pyjamas that make him look as if he was never military at all, just your sweet, pretty Simon who loves you so, so much. He leads you by the hand back to bed, helping you quickly change the sheets before crawling under the duvet, cuddling up, his head snuggled into your chest.

[literalite]

uhm a look at heiya and her wife around the actual age when they were like together. minus the tattoo

[skrunksthatwunk]

thinking about how eiji's a pole vaulter and how ash talks about eiji "flying" and how eiji's associated with bird imagery and how eiji's free (unlike ash) and how eiji comes in on a plane and leaves on a plane and how ash cannot fly, ash cannot be free, how nyc is ash's prison, and how ash is the leopard who dies climbing the mountain, unable to live at such elevation, how he was trying to reach the sky and be free but was always stuck to the earth, how he chose to die instead of climbing back down, how he chose to die where he could see the sky and hope and freedom almost like a bird with eiji's letter right in front of him rather than letting everything go wrong and ruin it once again, how eiji's a failed pole vaulter anyway, how a bad fall ruined his career and grounded him (physically and emotionally), how it took flying to america and meeting ash and needing to save him and skip for him to try flying again, how he landed hard and harsh and still the thought of that escape compelled ash to protect eiji at all costs because if he could fly that means something to him, even if he doesn't think he can fly, how eiji is the manifestation of his hope and how when he breaks and asks eiji to stay with him a while he folds himself over his legs and weighs him down and traps him and grounds him, how ash fights like hell to keep eiji alive not because he thinks he can be like him (hopeful, flying, innocent), but because he makes him forget the gravity of his situation, and so he can see eiji fly again. how he wants to see him escape. how eiji is a bird and ash is a wildcat and how ash never once saw eiji as prey. how eiji never saw ash as a predator. how it is eiji's naivete that first endears ash to him, how it is his freedom and flight and removal from darkness and his ability to leave that darkness that really roots eiji in ash's blood as something essential to him keeping on living in this hell of nyc. how it is that distance from the violence and that hope for the future that ash chooses to surround himself in as he dies. how ash dies in a dream because he feels more than anything that he can't fly like eiji, that he can never leave. how his violence is a part of him and will be forever, how it weighs him down. how he wants to enjoy the view from the mountainside rather than looking up from the ground below. as if they can both fly. as if he is with him up there and not grounded. eye-to-eye with what he can't have, seeing eiji's homeland: the sky. how he dies trying to reach the top because he couldn't take retreating and trying again. how ash, tired and tired and tired and convinced it will go on forever if he crawls back down the mountain, chooses to close his life deluged in eiji, in eiji's insistence that they can fly together, in eiji's hope for him and for them, in eiji's beautiful dream. how ash dies without trying to realize that dream. how ash, in dying, destroys it.