#but maybe sometimes you gotta ramble

[akirathedramaqueen]

Two completely random things I might regret dropping here later. But I think I need to get it out of my system and maybe it'll help me stop being a whiny insufferable grouch I've become the last days partially because of today's episode coming out.

TW for self-hatred (mine) and suicidal thoughts (not mine, don't call psych ward on me, please; and it's not in the post itself, only in the song it mentions later on).

One.

Waiting for Ghostfuckers fucked me up completely. Like not in a fun way. In a 'I've considered dropping this show despite how much I love it' way. Because it touches on a topic so deep and personal to me I am not sure I want to be inadvertendly called out like that. So I stopped checking tumblr, I avoided any HB mentions, I couldn't write two lines in the fic without being triggered (so if I ignored your tags or messages or replies—sorry!). Don't know since when I've become so sensitive. I actually took pride in being quite callous to everything. But apparently here I am.

It's not like the show is the sole reason my mental health went down the drain in the past weeks. Of course not. It's just that was the last fucking drop which sent me spiraling.

If anything, I dare to say it actually helped me understand myself better in many ways and learn to try to accept some fuck-ups I've done with my life, that it might be just fine to be fucked up a little.

Reason for all this rambling? None. Guess I just relate to Blitzø hard in this way and I am afraid to see even uglier side of myself. And maybe if you feel the same way about the silly demon show, I don't blame you, I am with you. But fuck it, I embrace it. Fucking hit me with that episode and leave me in shambles. I'm not ready, but hey, I am the AT and the FUCKING PENGUIN SHORT survivor, it can't be worse than that, right?

RIGHT?

(Watch me fucking crawl in the corner and wail in like? 8 hours from now on?)

Two.

I have that song on repeat, and its chorus is what I think characterizes all Blitzø's actions. Not the song itself though. This is the case where I take the chorus out of context deliberately, because the rest of it, well . . . this is TW-worthy. Suicidal thoughts TW-worthy. Consider it your warning.

So I'm just focusing on this part.

My personal hell, I'll bury it, bury it Weight of the world, I'll carry it, carry it Pile it all on, I've gotta be strong For somebody, for somebody Put my pain in a pill, I'll swallow it, swallow it Too numb to feel, I'm hollow, I'm hollow I have to hold on, I've gotta be strong For somebody, for somebody Somebody else

It's so Blitzø, isn't it?

Burying his trauma so that he can get through another day. Not realizing it keeps chipping away from his life however he tries ignoring it.

Swallowing his immense guilt and act brash. Put his pride on display, not realizing it's not the opposite of shame, but its source (I thank ATLA for this great quote).

Taking responsibility for literally everything happening around him. No matter if he could help it or not.

He's gotta be strong, he has to hold on and pile it all on. For somebody. Somebody else, who matters more than he does.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Having the Pool Dream again, handsome?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

when you mentioned in your tags that there was hardly any laughingstock i didn't believe you at first, but holy shit ur right. YOU AND @krasytoonz MADE ME INTO A LAUGHINGSTOCK BELIEVER. I WILL PAY TRIBUTE TO THESE SKRUNGLY FUCKERS SOON, MARK MY WORDS *shakes fist into the void*

no yeah Seriously though its just us out here, fighting for our lives in the fucking Trenches. in ten years someone is gonna use the word 'laughingstock' casually in conversation and im gonna have War Flashbacks

[never-ending-pizza-time]

I think some people forget that peppino can be kind of a jerk. He's not your perfect awkward nervous guy who can do no wrong, he is not perfect, but that doesn't make him a bad guy. He has flaws, because thats a normal human thing to have.

Sometimes he gets angry and a bit mean, sometimes he takes joy in beating the shit out of the tower residents, sometimes he gets selfish or says something mean to someone. His anxiety is not his only flaw, please don't forget that. He is not a perfect sunshine boy who can do no wrong. He is not nice and friendly 100% of the time. He is a human person, he is a complex being who cannot be easily defined as completely good or completely bad.

Sometimes good people do shitty things. Sometimes a person will not act in the kindest way possible. Sometimes someone will do something not realising (or caring) how it makes others feel. Sometimes people have bad days. Sometimes people make mistakes. Sometimes people are wrong.

Peppino is a human, he is not immune to being a jerk sometimes. Again, this doesn't make him a bad person, it just makes him human, and I don't want people to forget that and misinterpret him as being someone whos only flaw is his anxiety. Yes it is a key part of his character, but theres more to this guy than that, thats not his only flaw or imperfection or whatever you want to call it. He's not 'kind perfect guy who also has anxiety', theres more detail to who he is than that.

Peppino can be a bit mean, Peppino can be hotheaded, and you know what? Thats okay because thats what a person is like sometimes, and that is a sign of a complex and realisticly written character (even if he is a cartoon guy, his personality still feels realistic). He's not the same guy all of the time, he doesnt respond to every situation in the same way, he's not a one note character. Sometimes he sucks as a person, but its okay because despite all that, he's a loveable and endearing character, and he isn't a horrible terrible person, he just is human, and thats okay.

[fennthetalkingdog]

I feel like a dog that's been hanging around with housecats so long that I've grown up acting like them. I've always been a dog, and so I still have some of my own body language, but I've adopted so much catness that it feels almost just as much an intrinsic part of me. I still wag my tail according to dog rules, but I know when to switch; I slow blink to show my affection too; I've spent so long making myself small that I almost don't know how to accommodate my lanky body. In regards to my humanness, I draw cats better than I draw dogs; I've spent so much time in the Warrior cats fandom making characters and Clans and learning cat anatomy that when I try to draw a dog, my pencil makes them look short and fluffy with short legs and round stomachs. I can barely draw a dog from the side and have it look like one. I'm not just a dog—I identify almost as much with cats as I do with dogs. But I still am one. My jaws look a bit too big and my legs a bit too long. When I move without trying, I'm a bit too fast and graceless. I've spent my life hanging around cats, and it shows, but my dogness is just as undeniable.

I have a similar feeling about my humanness. Disregarding the fact that humanity has perks that I like too, I've just spent so long in this form that it's just as strong a part of me. I want to show my dogness, but not if it involves me throwing away my humanity. I can play with the other dogs, but at the end of the day, I stand back on two legs and go home to type on the computer and eat with a fork and spoon. I wouldn't throw away my grandmas' cooking, my lofted bed, or my bracelets and anklets. I wouldn't throw away all the memories I've made as a "human." So even when I'm not all human now, I don't want to leave that all behind.

[iiusia]

hm.

[ichorblossoms]

yarrow's fun bc he's a doctor bc he wants to help people but then you peel that back a little and the reason he wants to help people is bc he would want others to do the same for him, then you peel that back and realize it's in parts a manifestation of his inability to ask for help in outright as well as feeling like he has to be "worthy" of receiving "good things" (re: outsources his self worth on how much he can help others). so he doesn't ask for the things he wants/wants to see in the world, and instead gives and gives hoping that people will see what he's doing and be inspired to do the same, but he's doesn't communicate this to anyone so he's left perpetually feeling like he's giving more than he receives and that doesn't become an arrogant sort of "i'm better than anyone else" but instead warps into a "i must not be doing enough" that starts the cycle over again. and he's at least semi-aware of this and how it's probably slowly destroying him as well, but doesn't know any other way to be so he just. continues.

guy who asks via actions and not words except nobody knows that so he's constantly left wanting for more. i don't have a conclusion for this i just wanted to talk about them

[knoproblem]

Maybe the fog’s here because I want it here.

Is that why I opened the windows?

Maybe I asked the fog to come…

-MAG170: Recollection

[waterfallofspace]

Smoke In The Breeze, You In My Lungs.

The one where V/ash gives W/olfwood a gift, and W/olfwood gives V/ash a show. Feat. sneezy W/olfwood, and smitten V/ash. (Shipped, though not entirely ‘dating’, just more like ‘will be dating.’ Pre-dating. Also known as head over heels for each other, secretly). Also there’s totally a few not so secret moments about it~ 

First time attempting T/rigun S/tampede, so the characters voices are still new to me, hopefully this will be an acceptable addition to the AMAZING collection of V/ashwood fics already on here! For anyone bothering to read this, thank you~ Hope you enjoy~~

(References to smoking and swearing, incase you don’t like those) 

Characters: V/ash, W/olfwood, and a surprisingly cool desert night.  Word Count: 3.5k ~~~~~~~

The first time Vash remembered seeing Wolfwood smoke was almost immediately after meeting him. Since then, he seemed to always be either stuffing a cigarette between his teeth, crushing one on the ground, or somewhere in between. Despite this, cigarettes remain just as expensive as always, and Wolfwood remains the same short on cash grifter. Turns out addiction doesn’t pay for itself.  That’s why when Vash saw the pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter of a bar they had passed through on their last round of plant repairs, he had asked the man they were attached to where he’d found them. Turns out, there was a peddler in this town that sold rare and exotic types. Vash had gotten his money together and managed to afford a single pack. Tonight was the first time since then that the opportunity had presented itself to offer the gift without too much explanation needed as to its meanings.  “Hey, Nicho-” Vash starts, a light shove in response nearly sending him over the edge of the rock they find themselves balanced on. “Watch it Blondie, I told you, unless we’re alone, it’s Wolfwood.” Vash lets their eyes meet, before gesturing to the desert around them, barren aside from the car they’d ‘borrowed’ for this little trip. “Oh, yes, of course, I must have forgotten about the invisible forces watching us from- ouch! Okay, okay, sorry.”  The laughter in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed, a sharp smile in response forming on Wolfwood’s face. His smiles always had this edge to them, as if simply a touch from his lips would be enough to slice you open. Staring at him in the moonlight, Vash nearly thought about testing the theory. “Hey, blondie?” “Hmm?” “I assumed you had an end to that sentence you started before? Unless it was just a veiled attempt at getting yourself sent careening off a real high rock for the fun of it?” “Right, sorry. Yeah, I just… here.” Vash reached into his pocket, pulling out the pack of cigarettes and sticking them in Wolfwood’s hands, not missing the baffled look that slipped across the normally fixed features. “As payment, for that bread you spotted me the other day.” “You mean… the piece of bread that we got as payment for the job…?” Vash feels his hand graze the back of his neck before he even registers that he’s moved it. “W-well… I mean I guess… just consider it a gift then!” Wolfwood looks like he’s planning to say more, but once his eyes have finished tracing Vash’s face, he’s decided against it. Settling instead for flashing him a smirk, and pulling out the first one. Sticking it between his teeth, Wolfwood leans towards him. “Light me up, blondie.” A blush spreads like wildfire against Vash’s cheeks, and he pulls out the lighter Wolfwood had tossed him a few towns back, bringing it carefully to the cigarette. The glow of the flame lights up the mischief in Wolfwood’s eyes as he inhales, then gently blows the smoke right at Vash’s face.  “Hey-!” Coughing, Vash waves his hand in the air, giving Wolfwood a playful punch in return, laughing a bit at the grimace he receives. “Bit rough there, Blondie. Hm.. these taste a bit different than normal, are they the regular packs I get?” “You’re the one who blew smoke in my face! You’re lucky I’m wearing my sunglasses, or that would have gone right in my eyes! And um… I think they’re a different brand maybe?”  Wolfwood hums lightly, choosing to focus his attention on the first part of what Vash said. “Why are you wearing them at night? Are even the moons too bright for you?”  “Wha- no! I just got so used to the feeling of them on my face that…” Vash rubs his neck, offering a sheepish smile,  “It starts to feel weird without them. Not quite like being naked, more like walking around without a shirt on. Technically acceptable, but still quite weird. Feels vulnerable almost. Though sometimes if I- hey, you alright?” Wolfwood’s eyes have been captured by a far off look, his head slightly tilting back until- “hIH’ktsSHH’yue-! hAH’ZSHH’oo-!” “Oh, bless you!” With a rough sniff, Wolfwood brings his wrist back down from where it had assumed position under his nose. He gives Vash a sharp grin, taking another drag from the cigarette in lieu of a thank you.  “What were you on about then?” “Hm? Oh, it was nothing really. Honestly I don’t even remember where I was going with that.” “Alright.” And with that, they’re back to staring out at the desert sky. Not a cloud in sight, but somehow, it was darker than usual. ‘That wouldn’t normally be a bad thing, but… it makes it harder to see him’ Vash thinks, allowing his eyes to trace over to Wolfwood. The light of the cigarette glows faintly against the darkness of his clothes. His eyes though… they shine without any light at all. Somehow, despite being dark, Vash has always noticed the glow they seem to give off. “Hehh- hH’kttZSHH’yuee-!”  “Ble-” “Nohhht- not done Blondieehhhh-! hEH’ZZSCHH’OO-! hahh’ASHH’yuee-!”  “Triple bless you!” “Cute, needle-noggin.”  Vash smiles, the laughter dancing in Wolfwood’s eyes filling him with warmth, despite the cold air. “You alright though? Something setting you off?” Wolfwood gives a deep sniff before answering, apparently trying to see if he can smell anything unusual. Unfortunately, he’s already way too stuffed up to let anything pass, including air.  “Can’t tell. Doubt it though, likely just something irritating my allergies.” “In the middle of a desert…?” “You’d be surprised at the kind of flowering plants you can still find ‘round here. One time I walked into a town that had a full blooming cactus- flower- thing. Still don’t know exactly what it was, but damn it was potent. Was sneezing nearly the whole night, but it was too late to go find another place to stay.” Wolfwood seems to shudder a little at the memory, his hand coming up to rub at his nose as if even the thought of it was starting to irritate him.  “Pretty sure I woke everyone in that motel, got some real dirty looks the next morning.” Vash laughs, dodging a punch thrown at his good arm. Wolfwood gives him a glare, but there’s no fire in his eyes. Only warmth. The cigarette he’s been smoking has reached its last legs, and Wolfwood crushes it, before pulling out another, leaning in once again for Vash to light it. “Might as well treat myself to a few tonight, it’s a gift after all, right Blondie?” Vash obliges, lighting it up and letting his head tilt with a nod, partially to agree, mostly to hide the flush starting to fill his cheeks at the mention of the gift. Thankfully, he’s soon distracted, as Wolfwood lets out another itchy gasp, this time barely managing to turn away from Vash before the sneezes break free. “hihh’ZZSH’yuee-! heHH- hAH’ktSHHH’ooo-! hh’RRUSHH’ueee-! Fuck- hah’ASHH’ooo-! Hehh… ihhh’hEH’ZSHH’OOO-!”  “Jeez, Nico. Bless you, are you alright?” A shiver runs through Wolfwood, his cheeks slightly pink as he turns back to face Vash. “‘Scuse me. I’m alright. Just somethin’ tick-hhH’ZSHHH’OO-! Oh god, not doohhhne!”  Vash wants to turn away, give him some privacy, but something about the vulnerability of the display has him captivated. Wolfwood’s eyes are fighting to stay open, fluttering against the depth of the tickle. His mouth hangs open, breath hitching wildly as his nose practically trembles. “hHH’KSHH’yuee-! Huhhh- hEH’RSHHH-ISHHH-ZSCHHH’ooo-! Wheww~ Ohgod- iHh’NGXttt’shiew-!”  Desperate to stop the onslaught, he attempts to stifle the last one, Vash not missing the shivers it sends down his spine. Both of them know what a stupid choice that was, as Wolfwood can do nothing but gasp against the cold air, before ducking into his arm with another rapid, yet softer, fit. “hhH’ishh’iew-! tiSHH’iew-! hehh’ASHH’iew-! Hehh- hH’DTshhh’iew-!”  “Bless you. You really shouldn’t hold them in like that, you know it just makes you sneeze more afterwards.” A blush spreads across Wolfwood’s face, Vash not missing the way the dark eyes refuse to meet his own. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you Dr. Blondie, I’ll keep that in mind.” The tone is light and teasing, but there’s a deeper mood to it that Vash can’t quite put his finger on. This isn’t new to him, Wolfwood quite often uses humour or charm to mask deeper, actual emotions. Deciding to let him keep what dignity he has left after the fits, Vash just offers a sweet smile, and a tissue from his pocket. Wolfwood greedily reaches for it before pausing, and gently handing Vash the cigarette to hold before grabbing the tissue.  Offering a ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he turns away, he roughly blows his nose, Vash wincing at the congested sounds. Turning back with his mouth still slightly hanging open, ‘likely to breathe’ Wolfwood gives Vash a tight smile, before taking the cigarette back. “Are you sure you don’t know what’s causing this? You’re not getting sick, are you? You could tell me if you were, ya know. It’s not a bad thing to admit-” “I’m not sick. Just itchy.” “And stuffed up.” There’s a pause, Wolfwood seemingly taking stock of his symptoms. Vash attempts to do the same.  “Yeah. Still, it feels like allergies. If I was getting sick I’d be feeling it in my throat by now.” “Hm… normally you’d be coughing by now too.” Wolfwood shoots him a look, and Vash blushes a bit, rushing through an explanation before he can stop himself. “We just spend a lot of time together, and I noticed that usually when you get sick you get a cough pretty quickly- not first though, first comes a sore throat- usually I can tell because you don’t talk as much- not that you talk too much! You just talk more than I do sometimes, and well, when you’re sick you don’t, and that’s how I can tell it’s starting- but yeah usually the coughing starts before the sne-” “Blondie, take a breath.” Vash chuckles nervously, aiming his gaze at the ground where the crushed cigarette lays, still slightly smouldering, so he grinds it a bit further into the rock. “hH’ZSCHH’ooo-! hehh’ktCHH’iew-! haHH’DNNGT’shhh-!”  “Didn’t we just go over th-” “hIH’ISHH’iew-! Tishh’iew-! hH’ZSHH’iew-! heH’ashh’iew-! HH’zshh’IEW-!” “-this. Bless you.” His tone is teasing, and Wolfwood shoots him an exasperated look, rolling his eyes dramatically, though Vash can’t quite tell if that was meant for him, or the sneezes that seemed to still be dancing through his sinuses. “Hehhh- hH’HDT- guhhh…”  “Still need to sneeze?” “Whaahhhht do you hehhh…. hH’IHH-uhhhhh what do you think?”  Vash blushes, the desperation in Wolfwood’s words simmering in his stomach in ways he’d rather not dwell on. Instead, he reaches over and runs a single finger down the bridge of Wolfwood’s pronounced nose, smirking at the way his eyes tear up immediately. He manages to keep enough wits about him to aim away from Vash’s hand, but doesn’t even attempt to cover as the sneezes blast out of him. “HH’ZSCHHH’OO-! hah’ASHH’ooo-! RRUSHHH’UEE-! HAHH’ZSHHH’YUEE-! Hehh… hehH’KTSHH’ooo-! hh’zzUSHH’ooo-! Jeez, ‘scuse me. Thanks for that, Blondie. They were really tormenting me there.” “Bless you. Seemed like you needed a little help, is all.” “Yeah. Damn, still itches something fierce. Really don’t know what’s got me so irritated.”  Vash glances around the desert once more. Nothing catches his eye, the vast open space still empty of anything more than sand and their car. “We seem to be the only things around. Unless you’ve suddenly developed an allergy to sand. Oh god, that would be- “hEH’KISHH’ooo-!”  “Exactly! Took the words right out of my mo- ouch! Okay, okay, jeez. No need to beat me up! I’m not the one causing this.” They pause for a minute, Wolfwood’s eyes watery and glossed over, but Vash’s suddenly wide and frantic. “Wait, you don’t think you’re allergic to me, do you?! I mean, I’m the only thing around, and you’re having an allergy attack, so it figures that you have to be allergic to something nearby, and since I’m the only thin-” “Blondie, you’re giving me a headache.” “Sorry…”  “Don’t worry so much. I’m not allergic to you. I’d be long dead by now if I was, what with how much you cling to my side.” “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who just decided to invite yourself along on everything I do.” “Regardless of the details, my point stands. I can’t possibly be allergic to you. Besides, it only started recen- hehH- hold on-” Wolfwood pauses, voice entirely air. His breath catches, then releases once more, stuck right on the edge of sneezing and hitching. Vash feels a pang of sympathy at the desperate look in his eyes as they flutter between closed and open. Wolfwood is stuck, mouth ajar, head slightly tilted. One hand is hovering in front of his face, lightly fanning, the other holding his cigarette as it burns closer and closer to his fingers. Noticing the pain that’s sure to occur soon, Vash knocks it down, crushing it beneath his boot, not missing the growl of protest Wolfwood manages to slip out between gasps. “You’re a bit too preoccupied to be smoking that right now, and I don’t think either of us want you getting burned by it.” All he gets are hitches in return, the groaning starting to air on the side of moans as Wolfwood tries frantically to get the sneezes to come out. Finally he reaches over, grabbing Vash’s hand, sending chills down his spine. He’s too far gone to speak, but he doesn’t need words. Vash knows what to do. Gently taking his finger, and running it down the bridge of his nose like he did before, Vash nearly faints at the deep and airy moan that escapes Wolfwood’s throat, before he lunges forward with a harsh fit, lightly misting Vash’s hand as he attempts to move out of the way. “hEH’ISHH’YIUU-! ASHHH’YUUE-! ZSSHHH-DTSHH-KTSHHH’OOO-! hehh- heH’kNXGT’SHOO-! heH’ISHH’iew-! hh’zzSHH’ooo-! What the fuck- RSHHH’ooo-! hh’ktSHH’ooo-! heH’RSHHHH’yuue-! Oh thank god.”  “Bless you Nicholas. Better?” He receives a desperate sniff in response, wet and heady, and Vash searches through his pockets for another tissue, handing over a pack he forgot he was carrying. “You been holdin’ out on me.” Wolfwood mutters, crushing his nose into them and letting out a harsh blow. “Forgot I had them, sorry ‘bout that, I woulda handed ‘em over sooner if I remembered.” Wolfwood comes up for air, his nose twitching in the cold night air, before pressing it back into the tissues for another blow. Finally, seeming to get enough relief to satisfy him, his watery glance meets Vash’s, an itchy sigh releasing from his chest. “All is forgiven, feels much better now. Except that you crushed my smoke before I was finished with it!” “Ah, sorry ‘bout that too, but it was for the best.” Already pulling another out, Wolfwood gives him another sharp smile, this time laced with something that makes Vash’s heart flutter before he has a chance to stop it. “At this rate I’m gonna finish the pack before morning.” As he reaches over to get it lit, Vash gently pulls it out from between his lips. Wolfwood raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say a word, and doesn’t move back either, their faces close enough to feel the other’s breath. Vash places the smoke in his mouth, lights it, and takes a drag, ‘Hm, it does taste a bit different… what is this, I wonder.’ before letting Wolfwood remove it, and place it between his own lips.  Neither moves, Wolfwood breathing in too, Vash still holding his breath, though not by choice anymore. They stay like this for a beat, before Wolfwood turns to the side, blowing out, before turning back, eyes aglow. Vash finally realizes he’s still holding the smoke in his lungs, and goes to exhale, before pausing. ‘Time for a little revenge for the earlier smoke blowing’.  He lets his breath go, smoke drifting right into Wolfwood’s face. The reaction is instantaneous, Wolfwood using every fiber of his being to aim for Vash’s shoulder instead of his face as the sneezes burst out of him, forcing the cigarette to drop onto the ground where Vash crushes it. “hhH’zzSHH’ooo-! hh’ASHHH’ooo-! heH’ihhDSHH’ieew-! hUH’RUSHHH’yuee-! B- Blond- hAH’KTSHHH’ooo-! hihh’ZZCHH’OOO-! hH’EDDshh’yue-! RSHHH’ooo-!”  “Oh god, bless you Nico!”  Vash pauses for a second, before realization sets across his face, immediately replaced by panic as he turns over the pack in his hand, reading the label. “Shit- Nicholas, oh damn it-” Through congested sniffles, Wolfwood manages to shoot him a questioning gaze, before another desperate sneezes rips through him, this time giving him enough time to aim for the ground. “hEHH’KTSHH’shiew-!” “Bless you. I’m so sorry!” “What are you sorry for, I’m the one who just… juuhhhst… hhh’ISHH’yue-! ktSHH’ooo-! Scuse me- just sneezed against your shoulder.”  “Bless yo- huh? Oh, that’s nothing, don’t worry about it. It’s my fault anyways, I really should have seen it sooner, I was just… kinda distracted… I’m so sorry!” “Seen what…? What am I missing here Blondie?” Vash blushes, this time deep enough that Wolfwood can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the colour shift.  “T- the… the pack of smokes I gave you… you said they tasted different, and I thought it was just the brand, but when I had one I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was- it tasted like more than just a different brand- I mean I should have smelled it in the smoke but I wasn’t paying attention- and you were too stuffed up to smell or taste it anymore- I’d heard of flavoured cigarettes before but I’ve never seen them around here so I didn’t even think to-” “Blondie, rambling again. Is there a point you’re gettin’ to?” “.....They’re cinnamon flavoured. Which means the smoke is cinnamon scented too.”  Wolfwood stares for a moment, before letting out a laugh that nearly startles Vash off the rock. “That’s all? Blondie, with the way you were goin’ on, I thought they were poisoned or something!” “B- but… you’re allergic to cinnamon..? That’s why you’re sneezing so much, and… and it’s all my fault…” Vash feels his face flushing again, tears starting to form in his eyes before he can fight them off. ‘Why are you crying, you’re the one who caused this, you don’t get to cry-’.  His thoughts are cut off by the feeling of soft hands against his cheeks. One hand wipes away the tears, lingering just a moment on his cheek, while the other runs up into his hair, eliciting a soft sigh that he can’t stop. “I’m not angry at you, Vash.” Vash manages to clear his head enough to recognize the hands belong to Nicholas. The voice that spoke up belongs to him too, and there’s a gentle tone in it he’s never heard before. The eyes staring back at him belong to the man as well, and the kindness seeping through them nearly starts Vash crying again. “Y… you’re not…?” A light chuckle breaks through, and Vash feels his heart drowning in longing. “It’s just some sneezing, Blondie. We both know I’ve had worse. Plus, I was still enjoying the smoke, even with the unfortunate byproduct.” Vash stares, head filling with thoughts he can’t ignore. ‘Why isn’t he angry?’ ‘He was still enjoying them?’ ‘Is he okay with this?’ and front and center, ‘His hands are still touching me, does he know that?’  One hand still cups his face, thumb running along his chin, while the other seems content to pet through his hair. Vash can’t help but gasp as Nicholas suddenly pulls back, both hands leaving his skin, prompting his own to reach out for them. “hihh’KTshhh’iew-!”  ‘Oh.’  With that, Nicholas lets Vash’s hands grab his own, returning the grasp. Neither of them pulls closer, but neither pulls away. They just sit there for a minute letting the contact send burning chills through their bodies, almost as if they were being electrocuted. And yet… it was the most soothing feeling either had ever had.  After a few minutes of this, Vash broke off first, barely catching the airy sigh that escaped between Nicholas’s teeth. Vash could see his nose was still twitching, a red sheen on it glowing in the moonlight. ‘When did it get so much brighter out here?’ “We should get you some allergy meds, or you’re gonna be sneezing the rest of the night. Neither of us will get any sleep if that happens.” “Right, Blondie. Lead the way.” Neither of them says a word about the contact, the electricity, or the burning urge to do it again that bangs against each of their chests. Somehow, an unspoken agreement has been made, one that both of them seem desperate to keep. ‘That didn’t happen, I didn’t love it, and it will never happen again.’  Of course, both of them also know it’s a lie, and are eagerly awaiting the next excuse to feel that softness again. Somewhere, in the middle of a surprisingly cool desert night, under a dark sky, one touch lights a spark, and two cold hearts start to thaw in the heat. 

[beetlethebug]

me, trying to figure out what to title my rook x emmrich smut fic: man. idk what to call this. usually i find a song lyric but i've been listening almost exclusively to various iterations of Bad Romance by Lady Gaga and idk if that's the vibe i want (very fun tho) my brain: hey what if we picked a lyric from iconic abba song Does Your Mother Know by ABBA

[zinhuan]

in true spooky day fashion, let me introduce you a spooky supernatural-ish horror muse named ling zhou 凌舟, aka an exorcist who's known to be one of the very few, if not the only to master the ancient dark magic sorcery trick(s) and the likes that no one else's able to till date and the only surviving successor in his line of exorcism, which makes him in high demand, except all he likes doing is chilling in a noodle restaurant somewhere, watching (criticizing) whatever historical drama that's playing and also trying to quit an online shopping addiction. probably keeps a few harmless demons and ghosts as pets unfortunately (read: they owe him things) and does he get along with other otherworldly beings? not exactly because usually they're either wary or scared of him, or pissed at him. or all of the above. no one truly knows where he came from or how old he really is; it was a random one fine day that he ended up in front of his eventual master's doorstep, with no memories of who he was or how he ended up there, and was given a chance at becoming their apprentice. he probably (reluctantly) hangs around this little group of few others like him who specialize in exorcism, sorcery etc and go on these little missions that people seek them for (grave robbing yes)

ps: he probably Also has a little reincarnation verse which is why he's like this now (technically immortal and can't really be harmed in a significant way and gives off some very mysterious, puzzling vibes sometimes) but shhh i'll elaborate more when time comes)

[tvrningout]

IMAGES OF CHIYOKO HISAKAWA : 2 of ???

there was a time when she was... well, she doesn't like to think she was afraid, but what other word can she use to describe the aversion she felt towards standing out in any way that may not have been favored by her peers? she doesn't like to think of her younger years like this -- or of them at all, really -- but chiyoko was afraid for most of them. afraid of being judged, rejected, hated. she's still a little afraid, if she's honest. but she's not, and it's easy enough to hide behind rich colors, a successful career, and a mask she's been perfecting since she was a kid. no one ever has to know how her heart trembles at the mere thought of being known yet yearns for it all the same. maybe no one will. she doesn't like to think about it, but it is a little sad.

[quietlyblooms]

steeples my fingers. i forgot about that kiss meme from last night... do i dare be indulgent and write a lil kissy for my missy

[esteebarnes94]

Joanne/Joan Fanart

I made fanart for @artsandstoriesandstuff's new OC Joanne/Joan. They're a housewife who's just a tiny bit...Stressed.

This is a rough MS Paint sketch because I don't have the energy for a proper CSP drawing. And I wanted to get this idea out! I was surprised how similar the sketch was to how I envisioned her when I suggested her, lol.

The quality is kinda shit. Sorry.

No reposting, editing, claiming, stealing, or tracing this. No using it for any program, NFT, or AI.

Hope you like it haha. Just a little thing.

[lyssafreyguy]

God . . . imagine thinking Laios is a bad person who doesn't care about people. actual insanity.

[whoblewboobear]

I have never written sincere het smut in my life and yet the end of chapter 6 might be the best thing I’ve ever done I-