#pinned post time again

[ghosttbeef]

HI HELLO WELCOME

I'm ghostt and this is the blog where I just put whatever the hell I want! Silly reblogs and chatting mostly. A couple things to know...

My main account is @whippoor-wont so likes/replies/asks/messages will be from there!

PLEASE BE AT LEAST 18 TO FOLLOW!

I chat a lot in tags ! Sorry if this is annoying but i will never stop

I try to tag for fandom stuff or major triggers but. I often forget! Sorry! I am trying to be better about tagging stuff

I know I post fandom stuff but I'm really not. a fandom person. Idk what's going there please for the love of god don't involve me in fandom drama I am not paying attention to that sort of thing.

Feel free to send asks/messages/etc!

I try to keep track of these tags below but I have swiss cheese brain memory and forget them very often, SORRY!

a couple fun little tags of mine: #ghostt talks , #ghostt is gaming , #my cat finch from trigun , #coffee hell , #my art*

and oc tags: #magpie , #milo , #clarisse , #tenebri , #escher , #curse (lekshey) , #perihelion

fandom tags: #control , #dunmeshi , #bg3 , #trigun or #trimax , #disco elysium , #fma , #the thing , #quantum leap

I also try to tag spoilers for these too! Also, the trigun one is a little weird bc I had a sideblog for it.

*I don't reblog my art here too often- if you want to see more of my art, follow @whippoor-wont

[xandrikart]

[front-facing-pokemon]

[wispforever]

halloween was scary this year

[mosaickiwi]

Home Away From

I love hopeless agony almost as much as tooth rotting fluff??

Post-kidnapping Angel adjusting (badly) to the new normal.

might do a part 2 where it gets even worse idk ← my last words before i get thrown out of the plane

Kidnapping, imprisonment, codependency, etc.

proceed with caution

Eyes straight forward, you had to keep yourself occupied fiddling with the edge of a couch cushion. Every single one had a few loose threads from how often you worried away at them. 

Twelve… thirteen… fourteen neatly aligned book spines on the lowest shelf behind the dark haired man kneeling in front of you. A full, hardcover collection of your favorite webcomic, each book signed and dedicated to you. Maybe you'd force yourself to read them all again. For the third time since your arrival.

"Angel."

It was hard to keep track of how long you'd been here—in this house far removed from Corland Bay, with everything you ever wanted in a forever home. All those wild, fantasy-ridden dreams you joked about with Ren, and then [REDACTED], were true now.

And yet your supposed fiancé carried you over the threshold of that forever home kicking and screaming. 

"Still not talking?"

His hand reached for yours, fingers gently lacing between your own before you eventually pulled away. You saw their real reaction in the corner of your vision. By now, you knew him as obsessively as he knew you—there wasn't much he could hide anymore. The pain in his blue eyes lingered for too long this time.

It hurt. You hated to see that look on his face. But you hated being trapped here so much more than that. Why couldn't he understand?

Realistically, a silent treatment would get you nowhere. A few hours had turned to days, then weeks, and he was still soft-spoken and doting towards you. There was hardly a difference in the man you proposed to, and the one that bolted the front door shut from the outside on the few occasions they left for supplies.

You were too used to domestic life, too docile compared to that first day—sometimes you'd lose yourself and forget you were a prisoner. All your old hobbies still occupied your days while he sat nearby, and it just felt natural to include the only person you ever saw. To call his name and read a passage from a book aloud for him to laugh, or casually scoot closer to him for warmth during a movie.

Those moments when you forgot felt like they could slot in between all your old memories with ease.

"I'm sorry, love. I only wanted t'keep you safe," he whispered.

His breath almost tickled your legs, followed by the feel of his forehead resting against them. The urge to brush a hand through their hair—an innocent gesture you did at least daily back home—hurt just as much to ignore.

Were it not for their words of apology, even now could've been another memory. Who could fault you for falling into habits of comfort with the one who lived for you, and you alone?

The silent treatment was the best you could do.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Tired and disoriented, you woke up alone in your bedroom. The pink haired plushie you normally cuddled had disappeared somewhere, probably tossed to a corner of the room in your fitful sleep. Your usual replacement for a space heater was nowhere to be found, either.

Had he stayed up late? You called their name. "Ren?"

A muted commotion in the hallway outside, then the door creaked open. "Angel?" your beloved hacker answered back cautiously.

"Are you coming to bed?"

There was no response for a long moment. But soon enough, his familiar footsteps sounded against the floor.

You sat up and pulled the blanket to the side for them. As he settled in, you cuddled close, resting one arm over their chest while your head laid in its rightful place atop his shoulder. You managed to lean up and find their lips for a quick kiss before closing your eyes.

Though you couldn't see his face, you imagined the blush that painted his cheeks at every piece of affection you gave. With the thought fresh in your mind, you drifted off.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Hours later you woke again, your rest this time far more peaceful in their embrace. A pitiful, lazy groan left you as you stretched, then opened your eyes to greet your partner.

[REDACTED] was silently looking down at you, propped up on one arm. 

You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled at him. He leaned into your touch like always, but their usual loving gaze was laced with hesitation. As if waiting for something. Anxious of what could bother him, your hand followed the line of his jaw down to their neck, past the tattooed heart of your name, and settled on a piece of jewelry. 

Was that correct? It felt off. A long moment passed as you fiddled with it, trying to figure out what was so out of place about that silver chain, until it hit you.

The golden ring was back on his necklace, instead of on your finger where it belonged. Where it used to belong.

Weeks, or maybe even months ago, when they kept you in a careful hold while locking the bedroom door behind them—you'd thrown that ring in his face the second he let you go. 

For all the scratches and bite marks you'd put on his arm, tearing at skin that was already long scarred, he hadn't shown a hint of worry. Not until they bent down to get the ring that hit their chest and clattered to the floor.

It was the same worried face you saw now.

Your hand stilled, and before you could even whisper the words you wanted to yell, he slipped from the bed to give you space. The door clicked shut behind them to trap you in with your thoughts.

How could you be so stupid? Weak? They didn't have to try at all to wear you down; you did it all on your own. He tore you away from friends and family, yet here you were, forgetting yourself to play house with him. Then you took it a step further and let him sleep in your bed.

Nails dug into the pillow under your head, but instead of throwing it you squeezed it tight to your chest. You bit your lip to hold back the tears, glaring down at the empty spot on your ring finger that had only now begun to match the skin around it.

Another foolish dream to pile with all the others.

As much as you wanted to hope they would see reason one day and bring you back home to make things right—a thought far past irrational by now—you had to mourn the life taken from you.

You knew them, you knew them. Always seeking your favor so quickly that any argument quelled before it had a chance to begin, but stubborn when he felt it necessary.

If the first answer was a no… the next one and the next one wouldn't change. You should've accepted it the second he locked the door.

Ren was the only person you'd ever see again.

[trans-siffrin]

Behold. blinkies.cafe blinkies for telling your friends (and any passersby) to play award-winning 2023 indie game "In Stars and Time" available now on Steam itchio GOG Nintendo Switch and Playstation 4 and 5

Bonus: Start Again blinkies. Because you should also play Start Again Start Again Start Again: a Prologue (2021) available on Steam and itchio

[hanafubukki]

Happy Three Year Anniversary 🥹💚🌺

It’s my three year anniversary since I first started writing fanfics on tumblr. I think back about the first time I published fanfics on here and everyone I met along the way because of that one moment of time.

When I took that step to allow myself to express/be myself and publish something I wrote. It led to meeting so many wonderful people here and irl and I am forever grateful to myself and to all of you.

I am forever grateful for all the encouragement you all give me and I can’t say it enough. Be it comments, asks, reblogs, likes, tagging or what have you.

Everyday is fun and brings a smile to my face. I look forward to the future because of it.

So really, thank you everyone. I’m so happy to have met and interacted with you and hope to continue to do so ☺️💚🌺

[desceros]

masterpost

my ao3 || fics on tumblr headcanons, notes, mini-fics || blurple villain au

current projects: ONE SHOT: dayjob leo LONG FIC: symphony number 4 -> touch-starved donnie and professional musician reader 🎻 read HERE 🎻 tag for meta HERE 🎻 tag for asks/fanart/misc etc HERE

ideas in the queue: post here

i answer all asks publicly! here are some guidelines:

please don't ask: when i'm updating x; why i haven't updated y; "please write blah blah blah"; "what are your headcanons for [insert thing where you're obviously fishing for me to do a request post]"; "why is x fic so long" (spoiler: because i like it better that way) ok to ask: what i'm working on right now; questions about lore for any of my au settings; meta questions for any of my fics; opinions on things; random questions; how do i x or y; questions about how to write or something of that ilk; links to funny videos or dachshund stuff; just saying hello; basically anything else!

Individual links to fics below cut!

note: most of my stuff is on ao3, and i use the ao3 rating system for all my fics (ref here)

key: reader gender, rating, tmnt version; summary (link)

Leonardo (x)

GN!Reader, G, bayverse; deleted scene from tea fic; sharing calligraphy (here)

F!Reader, E, rise; leo comes back and wants to smell like home again (here)

F!Reader, E, rise; blurple symphony au where leo smells his shorts (here)

F!Reader, E, rise; leo loves your tits (here)

GN!Reader, M, rise; leo is suddenly horny (here)

F!Reader, E, rise; blurple symphony au where leo does a somnophilia (here)

F!Reader, E, rise; blurple symphony au where leo takes his chance after chap. 20 (here)

F!Reader, M, rise; leo "accidentally" sends you his nudes (here)

GN!Reader, T, rise; sunset hike up the hill (here)

Donatello (x)

F!Reader, E, bayverse; donnie pining mating season (here)

GN!Reader, T, bayverse; donnie is a dork (here)

F!Reader, T, bayverse; donnie rubs your back (here)

F!Reader, G, bayverse; watching donnie work (here)

GN!Reader, T, rise; waking next to donnie (here)

F!Reader, M, rise; symphony bad future fluff, chap. 19 spoilers! (here)

GN!Reader, G, rise; can't sleep (here)

F!Reader, E, rise; accidental double somno (here)

GN!Reader, T, rise; donnie helps you sleep (here)

F!Reader, M, rise, sleepy donnie (here)

GN!Reader, T, rise; donnie missed a week for... reasons (here)

Raphael (x)

GN!Reader, M, bayverse; raph likes it when you assume (here)

GN!Reader, M, bayverse; birthday plans (here)

Blurple Villain AU

F!Reader, usually T-E, rise; villain!leo au with the wolf/lamb/dog metaphor (masterpost here)

T; kissing donnie's scar for the first time (here)

E; leo likes lying on top of you (here)

E; pegging leo (here)

M; sharing an orange with leo (here)

TMNT

GN!Reader, G, bayverse; HCs for what goldilocks!leo and amaranthine!donnie want their insert-chan to wear (here)

GN!Reader, G, bayverse; HCs for all turtles with an insert-chan that has an unintelligible accent when upset (here)

[mostlyghostlyy]

I JUST CANT STOP WINNING! (being blocked by everyone who I reblog silly longlegs posts from)

[enquire]

Thrift Twinkle

I haven't drawn ponies in a long time, but started getting nostalgic after revisiting some of the later FiM seasons. I've had a few DRA pony ideas and sketches around, and after finishing this one for Teruya, I do kinda wanna continue with the rest...

Anyway, this is Thrift Twinkle, an earth pony with a penchant for trends and a talent for making and selling. He has a passion for experimenting with new styles, even if they don't all end up gaining popularity. Thrift can often be spotted wearing colorful coat and mane dyes, flashy hats, or even rainbow horseshoes.

Not all of his friends are completely onboard with his wild ideas, but most of them are still happy to spend time sketching, creating, and sewing with him. He's an excellent gift giver and is incredibly loyal to the ones he cares about most, like his friends and his father, Phoenix Hotcakes, who pretty much taught him everything he knows.

I kinda doubt too many folks are interested in seeing more DRA ponies, but this one was pretty fun so I might post more of them.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[lazy-b1rdy]

ABOUT ME/BLOG PAGES!!

BTW MY NOTIFICATIONS ARE TURNED OFF SO I'M SORRY IF I DON'T INTERACT/Respond RIGHT AWAY!!!!!

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My other socials:

pinterest: puffzybird

artfight: lazy-birdy

cara (not active in posting): lazy-b1rdy

tumblr blog for my tsp art: @b1rdy-draws-tsp-reblog

tiktok (i don't post): smollpuffy (Puffzybird 🪣〽️) (not @'ing this is just if you wanna recognize me or sumthin)

(just so others don't accuse me of stealing art)

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WILL ADD MORE IF MY BRAIN WILL REMEMBER GAAAAHHHH!

Also pls don't feel offended if I don't interact as much as I did before my social skills are just horrible at this point.

IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO ME DO THROUGH THIS BLOG

EDIT: THIS IS THE OLD ABOUT ME PAGE LOOK FOR PINNED POST TO SEE THE NEW ONE

[crispyjenkins]

FINALLY got you on my dash again, only to discover you've written an AC fic that you are giving us dribs and drabs of, heathen *shakes prison cell bars* please tell me more about "Miles" before I combust

HI UR MY NEW FAVORITE (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

  “Your name is not Miles.”

  Desmond tenses for a barely a moment before relaxing again, and doesn’t bother to look up from the hidden blade he’s tweaking to have a faster release. Even if he didn’t recognise the voice, the dark blur leaning against the doorjamb out of the corner of his eye would tell Desmond sure as anything who had come to haunt the armoury at his side. “Of course it isn’t,” Desmond eventually mutters to Francesco Vecellio, the only one of Ezio’s brotherhood to wear dark gray instead of white.

  Francesco snorts, eyeing Desmond from under the beak of his hood, Desmond’s own pushed down around his shoulders to better see by lantern-light. “You should have thought to pick a more common name if you did not want others to question it.”

  “ ’Should have thought to pick anything before I showed up.” He grinds his chisel a little deeper into the metal casing of his blade, and then nearly cuts himself slipping on it when Francesco gives a startled laugh.

  “You didn’t have one prepared?”

  Desmond blinks up at Ezio’s highest-ranked protégé, not sure if he should feel embarrassed or not. “I, uh. Didn’t think that far ahead?”

  And for someone who had managed nine years evading Templars and Assassins both, you’d think he’d have known better.

  The look Francesco gives him tells Desmond he feels the same. “You’re smarter than that, fratellino.”

  Desmond scowls. “Well, obviously I’m not.”

  “... You snuck into the main headquarters of the Italian Brotherhood in less than an hour and then fooled us all into thinking you were supposed to be here for nearly a week — Machiavelli isn’t sure even our Padrone could have managed that.”

  Swallowing uncomfortably, Desmond scoffs and tries to return to his hidden blade, but that still leaves his entire profile in view of Francesco’s far-too-discerning gaze. And he’s the only one other than Desmond to have been training for this since childhood: his observation skills are beaten only by Ezio, and even that is mostly thanks to his Eagle Vision.

  Actually, Francesco is a born Assassin, too, does he have EV?

  “Miles–”

  “Do you have the Sight?”

  They blink at each other, and Desmond isn’t sure who is more surprised by the interruption. Snarky he may be, Desmond has also had politeness beaten into him, and deference besides, and everyone in the Brotherhood had clocked it.

  “To an extent,” Francesco eventually admits, sounding puzzled, “Nothing so refined as il Padrone’s.” He looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “It is... finicky, I can only use it while motionless, and it really only tells me if someone means me harm.”

  Desmond bites back the offer to help train his EV into something far more useful — it would never reach the level of Altaïr’s, or Ezio’s, or Ratonhnhaké:ton’s, because that had more than a little to do with Isu fuckery. However, the Levantine Assassins (at least until Altaïr’s death, though it was Al Mualim who started the practice) were able to train most initiates to have at least some grasp of the technique, as long as they had that genetics-dictated spark to start with. Desmond was lucky enough for his time in the Animus to awaken his own Vision, and living as Ezio slowly mastering it into Eagle Sense had improved it in leaps and bounds for Desmond on the outside, and prepared him for experiencing Ratonhnhaké:ton’s advanced form of it. Though that, and Eagle Sense, never actually awakened in Desmond Miles.

  But “Miles” hasn’t told this Brotherhood that he has Altaïr’s Sight, Ezio’s Gift, partly because Desmond forgot they didn’t know, but now it’s also an active decision, because it would without a doubt make them insist he’s Ezio’s son with even more conviction. And until Desmond has figured out what he’s going to tell Ezio about the whole time-travel–thing, he isn’t going to confirm or deny anything the other members cook up.

  Except Desmond watches Francesco tilt his head, and then his eyes burn golden for just a moment. “Why do you ask?”

  He’s smart enough to guess, but he’s also smart enough not to assume, and patiently waits for Desmond’s response.

  Ahh, fuck it, he’s already screwed up this whole identity thing by talking with Claudia (not that he meant to reveal so much to her but, well, she’s Ezio’s baby sister. And [redacted]. Fuck, time travel is so weird).

  He looks up from his carving again to flash his eyes right back, and is more than gratified to see Francesco glow a steady, deep blue. He tends to avoid looking at the Brotherhood with his EV, he’s too much of a coward to confirm just what they actually think of him, and he’s only looked at Ezio once, before they properly met.

  Francesco smiles in the shadow of his hood, seemingly pleased with Desmond trusting him with such a secret. “Does il Padrone know?” he asks without judgement, and Desmond winces as he looks back down at his tinkering.

  “No, I... I became so used to it that I didn’t think to mention it, and then it had been so long that it was... awkward?” He chuckles nervously at admitting such a weakness, especially when he’s pretty sure this is the longest conversation he’s had with Ezio’s star pupil. He has double blades, for Christ’s sake, despite not being a Master Assassin.

  Oh. Is Desmond jealous of Francesco? Hm, something to think about.

  “And then you did not want the others gossiping,” Francesco agrees, nodding like that is the obvious conclusion. Desmond still doesn’t relax, but he’s glad he didn’t have to spell that out for him.

  Desmond scratches the bridge of his nose awkwardly. “I’m not Master Ezio’s son, but I don’t think any of our siblings would believe me if I tried to tell them that.” And hadn’t finding out his real parentage been an absolute trip; he’s still scarred mentally and physically from it. Which reminds him, he should respond to his mother’s last letter before she begins to worry about him taking too long.

  Having a mother to care about him is... still an experience he’s getting used to. It’s only been, what, two years since he found her again?

  She had glowed a blue so dark it was almost black, a colour Desmond hadn’t seen even once in either of his lives, or the lives he’d lived in the Animus. He knows she kisses her letters before sending them from the indigo left behind like lipstick.

  ... Which is also how Desmond found out he had progressed from Eagle Vision to Eagle Sense, which was also the point he realised he hadn’t told Ezio about his EV in the first place.

  “I believe you.”

  It’s said so simply, Francesco even gives a little shrug, but Desmond whips his head back around and is... absolutely floored. As dehumanised and used as he was in the 21st century, his little jaunt to the past has almost been worse, if he lets himself think about it too hard (and he never does). People don’t just... believe in Desmond.  Something must show on his face, because Francesco offers him a tight smile. Then, blessedly, he changes the subject and nods to Desmond’s hands, “What are you working on?”

-

[artsying-ifer]

True gold Nine days old

[miodiodavinci]

i saw that you used to hint at oc stuff on twitter (don't ask me why im digging im looking for zola stuff lmao) why don't you post more about them?

i am simply terrified that if i post oc things online someone will steal the concept and run with it faster and better than i ever could have and then i will be devastated forever and ever

more seriously i have very little to show for any of my oc things (adhd brain making life difficult as per usual awawawawawa) and every time i've shared oc things in the past i've ended up never following up on it and it makes me feel bad and guilty so i've just convinced myself i will Never talk about my ocs until i have something substantial i can put out there

[buttercup-barf]

AND JUST AS I GO TO CHECK IF I HAVE ANYTHING GOOD SCHEDULED FOR TUESDAY, I-

WHAT??????

TODAY IS ONE FUCKIN' DROPKICK AFTER ANOTHER HELLO SINCE WHEN FOR WHAT