#this is very much a vague post if there ever was one & I’m absolutely vagueing

[r0semultiverse]

I don’t know, me personally, I just think two adults playing pretend & pretending being gross together with full open communication & consent between them is harmless, but maybe that’s just me.

[fictionaltrvlr]

I’m obsessed with all the repeating themes in the Hunger Games, but one I’m absolutely in love with is how Snow can never escape Lucy Gray.

[This post contains spoilers!]

We know this almost immediately simply from the title, Songbirds and Snakes, as we remember Katniss and her mockingjay and singing in the arena. But this is just the tip of the iceberg.

Snow hates Katniss for the rebellion, of course. But perhaps more than that is what a call she is to his lost love, not in personality so much as spirit.

Lucy Gray is Truly Inescapable

Lucy Gray is named for the Ballad of Lucy Gray, and immediately when we learn this, there is the sinking knowledge that she will not survive this story.

But after the disappearance of the ballad’s Lucy Gray, they follow her footprints, the impressions she’s left behind. And later is one of my favourite lines from the ballad:

Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living Child, That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome Wild.

To all the knowledge that the girls family has, she has died. But they still see her.

And also pulling in the newly released Can’t Catch Me Now:

But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze My footsteps on the ground You'll see my face in every place But you can't catch me now

(I’m so in love with how well this song ties the franchise together, it’s so perfect)

From the second he lands in Twelve, Snow hates the mockingjays and does his best to eradicate them. He sees them as unnatural creatures who survived not only without the Capitol, but inspite of them. And yet he fails to get rid of them, the mockingjays survive despite his best efforts.

And even years later, their sheer existence haunts him, eventually proving to be one of his greatest failures.

And all of the messes you made Yeah, you think that you got away

This is a great line to me because, since this being told from the perspective of Lucy Gray, it turns the story on its head. We and Snow are never really sure if she survived, so you could think that she got away. But it’s in fact Snow who has deluded himself into getting away from her. She will follow him, everywhere, for the rest of his miserable life.

At the end of TBOSAS, he says there would be a vague memory of a girl who had once sung in the arena, and that Lucy Gray and her mockingjays could never hurt him again.

Then gloriously, devastatingly, 65 years later Snow sees another girl with braided hair from Distinct Twelve in the games, adorned with a mockingjay, who sings Rue to sleep, who escapes the arena by cheating with something the Capitol themselves has provided (Katniss with the berries, Lucy Gray with the snakes).

Katniss, who then goes on to spark rebellion with that same symbol of mockingjays, with the song that Lucy Gray penned.

Snow is seeing Lucy Gray everywhere, in the mockingjays, in Peeta’s personality, in Katniss’ appearance, in the song about that tree that changed his life. But he cannot catch her.

He tried, and never knew if he succeeded. But she is everywhere, the symbol of his weakness, the one thing that maybe could have made him give up his future. The person who made him come to detest the very idea of love, who made him swear that if he ever married it will be to someone he hates so they could never manipulate him.

Her spirit chokes him. He is drowning in her and her mockingjays, and they finally are his downfall.

And that is beautiful.

[treasure444]

Title: I'm so in love with you. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader WC: ~3.7K Content Warnings: SMUT (Unprotected, Simon is a biiiit of a bottom, Simon likes being bit) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, feels, Reader gets injured, angst but it does have a good/happy ending. I know I just posted a Simon Riley fic, but the brain rot DO be brain rotting. My current hyperfixation. I have lots of other stories half-written or fleshed out for all the characters I write for, and I am getting to them, I promise!!

Wonderfully beta'd by the ever amazing @universitypenguin - if you have not read anything Alice has posted, please do so! The Princess and The Lawyer is AMAZING!!

Requests are open, feel free to submit, and to those who already have, I promise I am working on them!!

It was moments like these that you genuinely dreaded, sometimes wishing that you had chosen something different. Everyone, even now, always questioned why this was the career chosen. You had never been able to fully answer, always giving a vague, ‘I’m in it for the same reasons everyone else is.’ Never truly knew why, what pulled you here. 

The satisfaction when you had won was unlike any other, but so were the nightmares. The constant replay of the field, the battles, the close calls that could have ended up much worse. It was never about you, no, rather your teammates. The close calls they faced, that were your fault. If you had been a few seconds quicker, or had just slowed down and aimed properly, you could’ve avoided these moments.

That’s where you currently found yourself, in a meeting with Captain Price, and Lieutenant Riley. Both very terrifying men. At least, Price was trying to make it easier on you, giving soft smiles, and ‘Ghost, relax. Everyone makes mistakes.’ 

A bite of ‘doesn’t matter, they should be able to conduct themselves properly.’ Was fired back. It was no secret the Lieutenant had a distaste for you. Maybe because you were ‘reckless’ as he had described you multiple times. Perhaps it was because at the end of the day he ended up having to save you more than once. Soap had attempted to calm your nerves one day, explaining ‘he gets like this with everyone. ‘S not just you.’ 

You saw the way he acted upon passing. With other soldiers, it was a very slight almost imperceptible nod of his head, but for you the ever-present scowl on his face seemed to deepen. No matter what you had tried, you could never get that recognition that you so desperately wanted. 

“Captain,” you said, gaining his attention, “W-While I appreciate the help, he’s not wrong. I-I don’t agree with the way he’s making his points, but I should’ve been paying more attention. Gaz could’ve been seriously hurt i—“ 

“He could’ve been killed! Because of you!” Ghost’s voice boomed across the Captain’s office. You jumped in your seat.

“You’re absolutely right,” you said looking at Ghost, “and I am sorry.” 

He grunted in response, before stalking out of the room.

“Ignore him, he’s stressed out over the next mission.”

You shook your head, “He’s right. Gaz could’ve died because of my mistake.” The guilt sat stationary in your chest. 

Price offered a sympathetic smile, “Ghost’s has also had some close calls. That is very similar to the potential today. We all have had some pretty close calls. Don’t let him get in your head.” 

You nodded, and rose from the chair on a shaky breath, “thank you.” 

Price nodded, “You’re welcome. There’s a debriefing in an hour.” He reminded. 

You nodded and walked out to get ready for the meeting. 

Three hours later you had found yourself in the middle of the battlefield. According to Price, it should’ve been an ‘easy’ mission. Gather the intel and get out, you hadn’t planned for the ambush. You had been almost positive you were safe, hidden behind a barrel, Ghost beside you. That was until you caught sight of the enemy behind you. 

You caught them raising their gun, aiming for the lieutenant. Soap screamed for him, you pushed him clean out of the way before hearing two gunshots ring out. One of which had pierced the enemy, knocking him down instantly. The other lodged itself into your thigh. You didn’t quite register the shot at first. Not until Soap was by your side. 

“Just go. Scan the perimeter, make sure there’s no more, make sure Gaz has the intel.” You spoke before he even had a chance to say anything to you. Soap ran off, you sat yourself down, still hiding behind the barrel. Your hand weakly pressing against the wound in your thigh. 

You leaned your head back against the barrel, closing your eyes as your hand was replaced by Ghost’s gloved appendage. You whined as he put more pressure than you had been. “I know, I know. Stay with me.” 

You giggled softly, “ironic, isn’t it?” Your head rolled to the side. “This time it wasn’t you saving me.” 

You watched Ghost’s eyes pass between your face and your leg repeatedly. His voice became distorted as he spoke into the walkie on his shoulder, more than likely explaining the situation to Price, and Gaz. Your eyelids grew heavy, so you opted to keep them closed. 

You could hear the concern in Ghost’s voice, but you could no longer hear the words. Could still feel the gloved hand pushing at your skin, but no longer the pain. You slowly allowed yourself to fall into the unconsciousness pulling at you. 

You came to, to the sounds of beeping and hushed voices. Confused, you opened your eyes, “Jesus.” You squinted, looking around. You found Price, and Ghost by your bedside. 

“Hey. How do you feel?” Price spoke, keeping his voice soft. 

“What happened?” Your voice came out weak. Ghost handed you a small paper cup with a straw. Noting he didn’t have the gloves on anymore. 

“Drink this. Small Sips. ” He spoke. You took it, taking a small sip as he instructed.

“You were shot.” Price spoke up again, and everything came back to you, “You were lucky. The bullet missed the femoral artery. Small fracture, you’re off for the next 8 to 12 weeks.” 

“8 to 12 weeks?” Your eyes widened, “No, Price there has to be a mistake! Surely it won’t take that long!” You handed the cup back to Ghost.

“That’s what the doctor has said, and that’s what we’re going by.” Price told you before his phone went off, and he walked out to take the call. 

You groaned, throwing your head back into the pillows. Ghost chuckled before handing you the cup again, “I bet you’re really regretting taking that bullet for me now huh?” 

You looked over at him, “not at all,” you smiled, “but I have to ask, where’d the gloves go?” 

You heard, more than saw, the audible gulp he took. “Had to take them off.” 

You nodded like you understood the implication of what he was saying. Which you did. You remembered him pressing his hands down against the wound trying to get the blood to clot. Saw how your blood stained the white part of the skeleton fabric. 

When you looked back up at him, you could see the fear. For once you saw your strong-willed, cold-hearted lieutenant, genuinely scared. For you. Like he was reliving what happened. Like he couldn’t believe you were still here. 

The word lucky rattled around in your brain. Echoing Price’s infliction. You were incredibly lucky, though you weren’t sure you’d admit it out loud. Something had shifted. You weren’t able to pinpoint exactly what, but something in the air of your hospital room felt different.

The aftermath of a mission always did funky things to you. Things you could never fully understand. Adding to that, the fact that you had been out of commission for the last 10 weeks. You had been a little rusty. Which was how you found yourself being dragged out to Ghost’s office. You were sure that he was mad, that he was going to berate you when he called you to his office. However, he led you past his office, and into his personal quarters. “You’re always such a problem.” He said as he closed the door behind you. 

“I didn’t see it!” You watched him. 

“I’m not saying anything.” He defended. 

“You are! You’re saying that I’m a problem.” 

“Because you are. I consistently am having to step in and save your ass because you’re so reckless.” 

“You can’t seriously sit there and get caught up in the few times you’ve saved me! Are you serious?! This is a fucking joke. You’re a fucking joke.” Your voice raised, anger shooting through your body. 

Ghost glared at you. “I’M the joke?! You must really think highly of yourself!” 

“Highl— What?! This is. No. No! I’m leaving. I will not allow you to sit here and treat me like this.” You stomped towards the door. You didn’t make it very far, before Ghost’s hand wrapped around your upper arm. 

“Do you care so little for your own life?” He spun you around to face him.

”What?” 

“Honestly, you’re reckless on the field, you almost stepped on a damn landmine today!! You took a bullet for me!” 

“I told you, I didn’t see it! I’m not reckless, and who knows what would have happened if I had let the bullet hit you! You could’ve died! I wasn’t willing to watch anything happen to you, when I could’ve helped!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because I care about you! Because the thought of you not being here hurts me more than I want to admit! Because the thought of not hearing your fucking voice every day, scares me!” You shouted, feeling the tears come to the surface of your eyes, but you refused to cry in front of him. 

The shock of your words had Ghost releasing his grip on you, if only slightly. You shook your head. “Forget it.” you sniffled and opened the door walking further down the hallway. Ghost snapped to his senses, and called you, but you were out of his sight. 

You had asked Price for some extra time. “A few more weeks, I want to make sure that I’m ready to be on the field again.” Was what you had told him, when in reality, you wanted to prolong your solitude. You hadn’t spoken to Ghost since your outburst, but he seemed content in letting it happen. Leaving you alone. 

Sure, you had run into each other a few times, damn near impossible not to, but never spoken to each other. In the time that you hadn’t been on missions, you spent it in your room reading, or in the gym trying to strengthen yourself. 

The boys had come back from another successful mission, elated but bruised. You smiled and hugged each of them with the exception of Ghost. You merely nodded at him, he stood stoic as ever. 

Soap threw his arm around you before leading you inside, with everyone following, “You’ll have to come with us on the next one. It’ll be just like old times!” He sang. 

You giggled, “yeah, maybe. We’ll see how I’m feeling.” 

“Well, at least come out to drink with us tonight! We’re heading to Bar Code.” Soap shook your shoulders lightly. He was always in a good mood after a successful mission. 

You nodded, “Sure.” 

That was how you found yourself in civilian clothing, sitting across from Price. Just shooting the shit with the boys reminded you of old times, better times. Price called your name, “you’ve been training. A lot harder than we’ve seen you before.” 

You smiled, knowing it was a compliment of the highest form, “Thank you, sir. I just want to make sure that I’m ready to be back in the field.” 

“So, I can count on you for the next one then?” 

Your smile widened, as you nodded, and Soap and Gaz whooped and cheered. “Well!” Gaz was the one to throw his arm around you this time, “I say that’s cause for celebrations! I’ll go get more drinks.” 

He moved to stand, but you put your hand on top of his on your shoulder, “let me.” You giggled as he withdrew and stood, walking over to the bar. 

Ordering what you knew everyone liked, you leant against the bar as you waited for the drinks. A slimy looking man slid next to you, “what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all by yourself?” He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. 

“Oh,” you said quietly, moving away slightly, “I’m not alone. Here with some friends.” Of course Ghost had caught sight of him before he got close to you. 

The man followed you, before a hand reached out to grip your waist, pulling you closer. You leaned away. “C’mon. Don’t be like that. I bet they won’t even notice if you’re gone.” You could smell the alcohol on him before he even opened his mouth. 

You kept pushing at his chest, getting more alarmed by the moment, “I-I’m flattered, but not interested,” you looked around for someone, anyone to help you, but found no one. “I really should get back to my friends.” 

In an instant, Ghost was by your side. Unwrapping the stranger's hand from you before pulling you behind him. “You okay?” He looked over his shoulder at you. 

You nodded, and walked to the table silently. From what you saw the unknown man backed down pretty quickly, given Ghost was still in his tac gear, minus the vest. 

Ghost had come back with the drinks and set them down. Not another word was said between you and him for the rest of the night. 

Getting back to the base, everyone went their separate ways. Everyone except Ghost who pulled you with him into an empty barracks room. It was a standard room, with a bed in the back corner, small desk and lamp on the right side, and an armoire on the left.   “Ghost.. What do–” 

“Simon.” He cut you off. 

You tilted your head, confused. “Call me Simon. Please.” 

“Okay… Simon. Is there something you need?” 

His eyes fluttered shut as you said his name. “I think a conversation is needed.” 

“Conversation about what?” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“What did you mean?” His eyes opened, solely focusing on your face, your reaction to him. “You said you care about me. But there’s so many things that could mean.” 

You took a deep breath in, and dropped your arms. “I’m exhausted. We can talk about this later.” You turned for the door. 

Simon muttered your name, “You and I both know if you walk out of here, this conversation won’t ever happen.” His voice stopped you from moving any further. “Please.” His voice softened to a whisper. 

“You’re a big boy, Simon. I’m sure you can figure it out. Given the context.” 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“Why? So you can embarrass me some more? To make me relive that specific part of the conversation for days? I already have. I shouldn’t have said anything, it was vastly inappropriate.” 

Simon shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Tell me. Please.” 

A shiver flew down your spine. “You make it sound so easy. It won’t fix anything.” 

Simon stayed quiet behind you. He was close enough at this point to feel the body heat he gave off. You sighed, defeated. “I care about you.” You whisper. 

“And what does that mean?” Simon whispered back. 

You closed your eyes, staying quiet. This time when he said your name, he coated it in adoration, in awe. Pressing his body even closer, you caved. 

“I’m into you.” You felt his forehead come to rest on your shoulder. 

“Again.” He commanded, softly as his arm wrapped around your waist. 

You smiled, biting your lip, “I like you.” 

Simon pulled you back so you were fully flush against him. “Again.” 

“I have feelings for you.” 

His grip tightened, hand moving to your hip as he spun you to face him. “Once more.” He watched you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I am so in love with you it hurts sometimes.” 

“Yeah?” He breathed, and you nodded as his face drew closer. 

“Yeah” you whispered moments before he pushed his mask up just past his nose, and kissed you. 

Fuck, he was good. He knew how to hook you in, one hand resting on the hinge of your jaw, and the other on your waist. Pulling you in, while simultaneously keeping you where he wanted you.

You couldn’t resist kissing back, placing your hands firmly on his chest. You could feel the low rumble he let out. Pulling away for a second, Simon dragged his thumb down the center of your lips. Your breathing was rapid, your mind felt like it was in the clouds. 

Without thinking, you leaned back in to capture his lips this time. His hands drifted down your body, before tapping the backs of your thighs. You shook your head only slightly to still keep your lips attached to his. 

He grunted into your mouth, before crouching slightly, and lifting you into his arms. You gasped before breaking apart, “Simon, put me down.” 

You saw his lips pull up into a smirk, “gladly” you watched his mouth form the word. He walked over, tightening his grip only moments before dropping you against the mattress. 

You squealed softly, before this mountain of a man was sprawled out on top of you, reattaching his lips to any skin he could find. Kissing down your face, to your neck. Hands pawing at your body, lifting your shirt to caress your skin. You whined, before sitting up only enough to pull your shirt off. 

“Atta girl.” Simon praised before reattaching his mouth to yours. His hands roaming your body, gently groping along his way as he finds the buttons on your jeans and slides them along with your panties off in one motion. 

You truly don’t know what came over you, the need to have Simon under you, succumbing to whatever you wanted, was overwhelming. 

So that was exactly what you decided to do, as you heaved your body so you had him pinned beneath you. The surprise of it alone had him pulling away from you. Hands coming to rest on your thighs. 

You made a show of removing your bra, the accompanying groan from him as you removed the last article of clothing was satisfying. You carefully slid down his body, removing articles of clothing as you went, until he was completely naked, and completely at your mercy. You looked down at him, your lip between your teeth. 

“Not so big and bad now are you?” You spoke softly, lining Simon’s leaking cock with your entrance, not able to stand another moment of the teasing.

“Don’t be a fucking tease, baby.” Simon gritted out. 

“Me? Never” You spoke, sliding him inside until you were flush with his hips. Gasping, as he gently bucked up into you. 

The grunt Simon let out had you clenching around him. His hands clasped around your hips, expletives being whispered into the air around you two. 

You brought yourself up just enough for him to slide out enough, before dropping yourself back down. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Simon whined. 

The sound alone had you falling forward, hands coming up to catch yourself on his chest. You let out a moan, as his hands roamed your body. “C’mon. Need me to take the lead?” He teased. 

You bit your lip as you straightened yourself out, and started bouncing on his cock. Simon’s head rolled back further into the pillow. Small chants of yes left his mouth. You glanced down at him, completely at your mercy, and you let out a borderline pornographic moan. 

Simon’s neck had been on full display, the veins distended, almost inviting. He was clenching his teeth, so as to keep all those little sounds in. Eventually, the intrusive thought won and you leant forward. Lips and teeth sucking a bright red hickey into his neck. “Oh, Fuck.” Simon mewled. 

Laving your tongue over the new mark, you felt a swell of pride. “Can’t take it?” You whispered into his ear, gently biting down on his earlobe. Simon let out a high pitched whine. “Who knew Simon Riley liked being bitten huh?” 

His hands settled back on your hips, “please” he grunted. 

You cooed, straightening and planting your hands on his chest once again, as you worked yourself against his cock. “Awwww. D’you wanna cum?” 

Increasing your speed, you could feel the stutter in his breath under your hands. One of his hands running up your back, to cup the back of your neck, pulling you down. 

Capturing your lips, he kissed any and all smart comments, and thoughts out of your head. Simon pulled away from you enough to let out a long, drawn out moan, as your hips stuttered, and you felt the warmth of his cum flooding you. 

You gasped, not expecting it so quickly. The pure, unadulterated power you felt in this moment was enormous. You just made big, bad, cold-hearted Simon Riley cum before you. 

Simon’s hands fell to your thighs, gently running his fingers over where the bullet had entered, “shit.” breathing labored, unable to think. 

You looked down at him, breathing picking up, eyes wide. “One more.” You surprised even yourself. “Give me one more. Si, just one more.” You spoke, grinding your hips against his. 

He grunted your name, “I can’t.” 

“Yes, yes you can. Gimme one more. You’re such a good boy, Si. You can gimme one more, yeah?” You whined, resuming bouncing on his cock once more. 

Simon whimpered, “Please.” 

“Yeah, there it is. Look at you. Letting me use you like this. Fuck. So good for me, yeah?” 

You watched Simon’s eyes roll back in his head, mouth open just slightly, allowing all the little noises loose. The little moans, hiccups, and half whines. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t getting to you. 

“You’re so hot like this. Can’t shut you up, can I?” You spoke, hips faltering. 

Soft chants of please left Simon’s pretty pink lips, head rolling from side to side. He was a sight. “Gonna cum again for me, Si?” You taunted him. 

Simon hiccuped, and nodded furiously. His entire body tensed, letting out an absolute wrecked moan, you once again felt the warmth of his seed, which only triggered your own orgasm this time. 

Head thrown back, grinding your hips before slowing to a complete stop. Slowly you lifted yourself on your knees and climbed off him. Simon chuckled as you collapsed beside him. 

“That definitely was not expected.” You wheezed out, attempting to catch your breath. 

“What part?” Simon smirked, pulling his mask back down. 

“All of it.” You yawned, and curled into his side. 

“We can dissect it in the morning, get some rest.” Simon ran his hand along your back gently, and you fell asleep in no time.

[amhrosina]

I Wanna Love Me The Way That You Love Me

(Frank Castle x f!Reader) - Hurt/Comfort

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

Summary: Frank uses a mirror to remind insecure!reader how beautiful she is. (In a fluffy and a smutty way!)

Warnings: reader is not very kind to herself, fluffy frank, like FLUFFY frank!!!!, super soft!boy frank, the softest of franks ive ever written, some body descriptions but I tried to keep it super vague, (later on) whew chile smuttttt, fingering, frank makes you watch yourself come in a mirror (lmfao), frank is sort of a dom but in the loosest sense, frank just loves reader so much!!!!!)

A/N - Thank you to @wheredidiputmyfish for being an absolute doll of a beta reader!!! I have a couple more Frank fics otw (i cant help it, i love that stupid man) and a poly!fratt x reader one hopefully soon after that!

You huffed as you pulled the green blouse over your head, annoyed that yet another online purchase didn’t fit right on your body. Just this week alone, you’d already made two trips to the post office, and Frank was bound to ask questions if you went for a third time so soon.  

You couldn’t even remember why you’d started buying nicer clothes to begin with, except that Karen always looked nice and Frank had been in love with her at one point, so why wouldn’t the same concept apply to you? The only problem was that you couldn’t seem to find anything that fit you correctly, and the idea that Frank might grow bored with your everyday attire kept you up at night. And of course, Frank had never actually said anything about your clothing choice – this was just the overthinking part of your brain going into overdrive. 

You flopped onto the mattress, shoving your face into your palms and groaning. You couldn’t figure out exactly what Frank saw in you, and it was hard not to compare yourself to his late wife or Karen. They were both beautiful women – definitely Frank’s type – and that was not exactly how you’d describe yourself. The thought of it brought tears to your eyes again. You quickly blinked them away when you heard the front door shut. 

You joined Frank in the living room, where he was removing his boots. You threw the package you needed to return on the table by the door, and though you tried to do this casually, Frank noticed it and your expression immediately. 

“You sendin’ care packages to some other boyfriend or somethin’?” He teased, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You giggled. “No. It’s just another return.” 

“Not that I’m not supporting this new wardrobe thing,” he started, eyeing the package by the door, “but why are you returnin’ everything you buy?” 

You shrugged. “It just doesn’t fit right.”  

“I bet you look great.” 

“I don’t think so.” You shrugged again, avoiding his eyes as you stepped into the kitchen. 

“Sweetheart.” He followed you into the kitchen, though it was clear he was struggling to figure out how to broach the topic. “Is everything okay? You’re talkin’ down about yourself again.” 

Your smile faltered slightly. “I’m fine.”  

“Baby,” Frank wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling your chest into his, “You’re not fine. You wanna know how I know that?” 

You remained silent, avoiding eye contact, but nodded. 

“Because you won’t look at me.” You lifted your chin and stared into his warm gaze out of spite. “And because I know you and I love you, I know that you start avoiding me when you feel bad because you think I’m going to miraculously start to hate you and leave.” 

You didn’t respond, instead gnawing on your cheek and curling into yourself. Frank’s hold around your waist remained steady, and as you tried to look away from his meaningful gaze, his hand gripped your chin and held it steady, too.  

“You’re beautiful, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “I love you no matter what you do or wear or say. You’re beautiful.”  

You tried to push away from Frank, suddenly aware that you hadn’t fixed your makeup or hair that morning. He was lying. He had to be lying, right? No one thought that about you, least of all Fra- 

“Don’t.” Frank was gentle in his coaxing, running his knuckle over your cheekbone in a soothing pattern while pressing his fingers into the small of your back. “Don’t do that to yourself. I love you. I’m not goin’ anywhere. You have to trust me.” 

You fiddled with your fingers, wringing them together in an uneasy gesture, unsure of what to say. He gently grasped them and pulled them into his chest, cradling them as he held your gaze.  

“Come with me. I wanna show you somethin’.” He murmured, tilting his head toward the bedroom.  

You followed close behind him, curiosity outshining your desire to crawl into bed and never get out. He led you to a stop in front of the full-length mirror, resting his hands on your shoulders behind you. A clear and decisive frown formed on your face. The last thing you wanted to do was look at yourself. 

“What do you see?” he asked, holding your gaze through the mirror. 

“What?” You furrowed your brow. 

“What do you see, sweetheart? Be honest.” he asked again, patting your shoulders encouragingly. 

“Well, um,” you breathed, starting at the top of your head and making your way down with your observations, “I see dull hair, bags under my eyes, and a nose that’s too big. My shoulders are broad, my hips are too wide, my skin looks lifeless, and I’m wondering why you ever gave me the time of day and why you stay with me when there are so many people out there that would look better standing next to you.” 

Frank stayed quiet throughout your assessment, expression turning grave as you brought up your deepest insecurities about yourself. He let you finish your observations before pressing a long kiss to your head. 

“Now ask me what I see.” he prompted. Confusion overcame your features again, but he silenced your doubts with an encouraging nod.  

“What do you see, Frankie?” You quietly asked, unsure if you really wanted to hear what he had to say. 

He brought his finger to your face, tracing each element as he pointed them out in the mirror. 

“I see a pair of beautiful eyes and a perfect nose. I see the most sensual lips I’ve ever felt pressed against my mouth. I see a beautiful, strong body that can handle anything thrown its way. Remember when you had to carry me from the living room to the bedroom after I passed out? That shit was impressive, sweetheart.” A soft smile rested on his face as he continued. He folded his arms around your middle and pulled your body against his. “I see hands that hold my entire heart in them, and a body that has all my love. You’re beautiful, baby, and I love you so much. Every piece of you.” 

You tried to blink away the tears that clouded your vision, but Frank’s speech combined with his gentle touch and open expression sent a wave of tears down your face. You curled into his hold, turning so you could bury your face in his chest. He cradled you against him while you cried, pressing soft kisses to your hair every few minutes until you were calm enough to look up at him through your eyelashes. 

He swiped his thumbs through the tears that had gathered under your eyes. “Are you okay?”  

You nodded, blinking up at him. “Thank you. I love you,” you murmured. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, which had always been his way of showing love. “Anytime, sweetheart. You hear me? Anytime.” 

- 

Bonus Scene: In which Frank comforts you in the bedroom later. 

“Frank, what are you doing?”  

Your tone was a mixture of confusion and curiosity, combined with the lazy haze that had taken over your body for the time being. Frank had jumped up from his relaxed position between your legs, where he’d licked up every bit of your desire after making you see stars, and had begun fiddling with the floor length mirror across the bedroom. 

“Hang on.” He called over his shoulder, tugging the heavy glass across the carpet. 

“Why are you moving the mirror?”  

“Wanna try somethin’.” 

He stepped back, looking between your slick, bare skin and the mirror with a smug expression. You were now face to face with your reflection, and as soon as you realized Frank's plan, a string of fire worked its way directly to your core.  

“Wanna show you how perfect you are.” He crawled on the bed behind you, settling himself before tugging your body back against his. Both sets of eyes, yours and Franks, were focused on you, and boy were you a sight to behold.  

Your limbs, still shaky from your first orgasm were splayed out, giving both you and Frank the perfect view of your glistening cunt, which was busy clenching around air as Frank worked his needy fingers down your skin. 

“Shit, baby. You look fuckin’ perfect like this.” He breathed. The proximity of his warmth to your ear sent a wave of goosebumps down your body, and you had to fight the urge to clench your legs together. “Look at how beautiful you are, sweet thing.” He murmured, holding his gaze on the treasure between your legs. 

You looked, fully looked, and felt heat crawling up your neck as his sensuous fingers swiped through your arousal. A low groan emanated from his throat, and he couldn’t stop himself from circling your clit. You watched as a moan left your mouth, your back slightly arching against Frank’s chest.  

“You see how perfect you are, sweet girl?” He cooed, circling your clit again. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy.” 

His other hand began to rub your nipple in light circles, and if that weren’t enough to have you gasping for air, the touch of his lips to the spot below your ear was. You squeezed your eyes shut, throwing your head back against Frank’s shoulder. His fingers halted – no, everything halted – and the whine that came from his sudden stoppage wasn’t entirely a conscious decision of yours. 

“You stop looking, I stop moving, sweetheart. You got that? Keep your eyes open.” he asked, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His gaze held no room for negotiation, so you shyly nodded before returning your gaze to your body. His focus remained on your flushed face, panting as he worked you closer to another orgasm.  

You could see what he was talking about. For the first time in a long time, the girl that looked back in the mirror wasn’t someone you shied away from. She was beautiful, and confident, and sensual, and she looked good next to Frank.  

“You look stunning, baby.” He murmured. 

“I know.” You responded, briefly lifting your eyes to his before returning them to his fingers. His winning smile was priceless – wide and open and beautiful, and you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. 

Light twinkled in your eyes as he inched you closer and closer to your release, and as soon as you locked eyes with Frank again, you were a goner. 

Frank worked his fingers around your clit, coaxing out one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever experienced. It washed over you in waves of fire, and it was a struggle to keep your eyes open for it, but you were glad he had asked you to, because you looked glorious coming around his fingers. 

You panted, body gleaming with sweat. Your heartbeat finally slowed as you leaned against Frank for support. He ran soothing hands over your limbs, massaging feeling back into them and kissing every inch of skin that he could reach in the process. The silence as you returned to your body was long, but comfortable, and when you finally had full use of your limbs again, you pulled Frank’s arms around you.  

He kissed your hair, resting his cheek on your head. 

“Do you see what I see now?” he asked, glancing at you through the mirror. You nodded, carefully lifting your chin so you could look at him – the real him – to respond.  

“I love you.”  

He grinned, leaning down and planting a sloppy kiss to your lips. 

“I love you, sweet girl.”

-

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @callsign-mama @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @megmastersgf

[ruporas]

apologies if you've already been asked this but do you have any favorite trigun fics? i absolutely adore your art btw!

thank you!!! and i've answered this on insta, but i don't think i've ever shared on tumblr... i'm not good at reading fics, esp long ones, because my attention span is pretty bad, but from the ones i have bookmarked, i'll share some that i like in no particular order

hills like white elephants (meet me halfway) - adlvnam

pairing: vashwood word count: 1.1k, sfw, vague post v.10 spoilers ‘I read a story once,’ Vash says, unsure. ‘I’m kind of thinking about it right now.’

i like a lot of adlvnam's fics, i find them very unique and creative in their execution, and their writing is wonderful! this was the first fic i've read from them and it's stuck with me ever since. others that i like from them are in manus tuas (no spoilers) and vox dei (warning for post vol.10 spoilers).

stay - Anonymous

pairing: vashwood word count: 2.3k, sfw, no spoilers “Hold up,” Vash groans. He presses his free hand to Wolfwood’s mouth and shushes him. He’s probably going for a stern look, though between his poor attempts to stop grinning like the biggest idiot this side of the planet and the way he’s patting him, it’s hard to take him seriously. “Stop laughin’. Where’s the keys?” “What keys?” Wolfwood tries to ask, muffled by Vash’s hand, and his tongue is a little thick and slow in his mouth so… something comes out, but it’s probably not very wordy. Word-like. Not a sentence, probably. (or, wolfwood and vash get drunk, bicker, and then share a bed together.)

i enjoyed the mundanity and silliness of this fic and i think about it from time to time... i think fics where one of them or both drink together are pleasant to read.

Last Summer - varilien

pairing: vashwood word count: 741, sfw, no spoilers You are what you love.

tags on this one are "sunrises, morning routines, coffee, sentimental" which caught my attention. very sweet and beautiful.

Rain - Kokohamstar

pairing: none, wolfwood centric word count: 768, sfw, major spoilers - post v.10 Ever since he was a little kid listening to Bible stories, he dreamed of the day the world would be washed clean and wondered what the rain would feel like on his face.

as most wolfwood centric fics, it was a gutpunch and melancholic, but still soooo.. augh.... the last paragraph really does it for me.

water bucket blues - fathomfive

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.7k, sfw, major spoilers, post trimax Vash the Stampede goes on the record about a friend he once had. Also about card games, cats, family, and some other things. "Start with a piece of the whole, Meryl said. It doesn’t have to be the first piece. Start with a specific. That’s what they mean when they throw around the words human interest. I know the pieces. Believing they make a whole is another thing. But she’s a broadcast professional and I trust her advice. Maybe if I can figure out how to tell one piece—like the story of Wolfwood as I knew him—I can learn how to tell the others."

i love vash pov fics and i love it when it's first person and this one in particular hits because it's his pov and he speaks, honestly, openly, telling a tale that he can't really flub because it's about the people he loved. i love how grounded this fic is in the present of max, i love how vash grows within the 3.7k words, i love how he moves forward with the world he's living in. this fic makes me teary if i think too much about it... it's really wonderful.

it’s a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world - goldenglitz

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.9k, nsfw, no spoilers Vash has the lung capacity of a man who’s cried for 150 years. It isn't like Wolfwood takes more than he gives — but like with most things, he barely keeps up with Vash. He works his body to the limit, even as his lungs burn and his legs and arms give out under him. They fuck like they’re on borrowed time. All of this makes it so easy — so much easier than just talking. Wolfwood would sometimes rather pull new and interesting noises from Vash with just his mouth than do anything else with it. Their own dialect: moans, groans, and four words. “Yes” — “Please” — “Vash” — “Wolfwood.”

i love all of their vashwood fics, they only have 3 but they're all lovely and has a sort of characterization to both vash and wolfwood i don't see often. definitely one of my faves, especially when it comes to explicit vw fics.

i think these are all the ones i'll share for now!!

[babytarttdoodoo]

not sure if u do ship prompts so feel free to ignore this 💕 but maybe something where royjamie are caught making out by the himbos and there is much teasing. flustered jamie is a bonus. but honestly you could literally write anything and i’d read it💕💕

I absolutely do! Hope it’s to your liking 🙂 (I accidentally let some feelings get in here. Oops.)

Roy/Jamie, post-canon

Song rec: Do Ya

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

-

“We’re at work.” Roy reminded Jamie lightly, not sounding nearly as annoyed as he wanted to be. It was hard when he had a lapful of gorgeous, handsy footballer.

“Training’s over.” Jamie countered, eagerly pressing Roy back into his chair, one knee propped on the seat between his legs and arms braced to stop him from rolling away. “Plus, it’s your birthday, you grumpy twat. Let me kiss you.”

“That’s the rule, is it?” Roy fought the grin trying to break free. He wasn’t very successful.

Jamie hummed an affirmative, eyes bright and smile wide, before leaning in to seal their lips together. He licked into Roy’s mouth with another happy sound, deep in his throat, when he was met with equal enthusiasm.

Despite his reservations about location, Roy would never actually be able to turn down being kissed by Jamie Fucking Tartt.

He did cut it short, though, when Jamie moved his hands up to Roy’s face and, without his grip as an anchor, the wheeled chair scooted back with wild momentum. To his credit, Jamie still tried to follow him but promptly sent a stapler to the floor with a loud clatter in his haste.

“Alright, alright.” Roy broke away with a placating hand to Jamie’s chest, breathing hard and glad he was wearing his loose tracksuit bottoms. He glanced at the closed blinds of his office. “Not fucking here. Anyone could come in.”

“Part of the fun, innit?” Jamie waggled his eyebrows but relented and straightened up. He stretched his arms above his head, causing his shirt to ride up and expose a strip of golden skin. Roy’s eyes followed the movement of their own accord and he licked his still slick lips, only half aware that he was doing so.

Jamie, on the other hand, clearly knew exactly what he was doing and smirked like the little prick he was.

“Y’know, I were the last in the gym. No one in the locker room when I came through. Haven’t seen the lads in, like, 20 minutes.”

Fuck. It was tempting.

Roy reached out and gripped Jamie’s waist, tugging him in. He came happily but pouted when Roy just used him as leverage to stand. “You’re a fucking menace.”

“Sorry, coach, but you knew that already.” Jamie grinned, no hint of remorse.

“My fucking fault, then?” Roy rolled his eyes and leaned in for another brief press of lips, forcibly keeping it chaste. It was ridiculous, how quickly Jamie could rile him up. “Suppose that means I’m taking you back to mine.”

Jamie’s face lit up. “You’re leaving early?” he confirmed, clearly delighted.

“Not going to get anything else done, now, am I?” Roy sighed, digging his thumbs pointedly into Jamie’s hips.

Jamie laughed and pulled him towards the door.

“I promise to be the sexiest little present you could ever unwrap to make up for it.”

“Is that right?”

Jamie stuck out his tongue cheekily and Roy couldn’t help himself. He wound one arm tightly around Jamie’s waist, the other hand going to the back of his head so he could hold him close and put that tongue to better use.

It was intoxicating, getting to have this after thinking about it for so long. He was only vaguely aware that they were still moving.

One of Jamie’s hands flailed around until he found the door handle, grabbing both it and the front of Roy’s shirt to manoeuvre them through the entryway without needing to break contact.

He was clearly eager to get them home. Roy was enjoying this moment just fine, though, and pinned Jamie against the now open doorframe. He pushed up against him and tugged on his hair as he deepened the kiss even further.

Jamie’s answering moan cut off midway, morphing into an urgent, distressed sound. He batted at Roy’s chest and he pulled back immediately, concern like a wash of ice in his gut.

Too much? Too aggressive? This was still so fucking new.

“What’s wrong?”

Jamie had gone pale, eyes fixed to his right. Oh no. Roy followed his gaze reluctantly, a growing sense of dread making each second stretch.

The whole team. The whole fucking team. Plus Keeley. And Rebecca. Oh, fuck, the Diamond Dogs too.

All of them, gathered together in the locker room, seemingly frozen in the act of lighting candles on a black-frosted birthday cake.

Shit shit shit.

“Uh.” A grunt was all he could manage. Unfortunately, a quick glance at Jamie confirmed that he was in no state to talk them out of this either.

The moment stretched.

“Surprise?” Keeley finally ventured, voice high and breathy. She shimmied her hands and it broke the spell.

Rebecca broke into loud, unrestrained laughter. A few others joined in, more still shouting over each other in a sudden explosion of sound. The words Roy managed to make out amidst the cacophony seemed split between declarations of being proven right, or complaints that this was why surprise parties were stupid.

No one looked angry. Trent Crimm looked entirely too fucking smug. But there wasn’t a trace of disgust or outrage on any face that Roy could see.

A weight he hadn’t really been brave enough to acknowledge floated right off his shoulders.

Reassured that they weren’t about to have to fight for their jobs, Roy turned his attention back to Jamie, who had startled when the noise started up and still had a vice grip on the front of Roy’s shirt.

He wasn’t pale now, a flush painting his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. His eyes were darting around, looking, Roy knew, for the same signs of rejection he had.

“Oi.” Roy squeezed his wrist gently. Jamie jumped again and snatched back his hands at the reminder of their proximity. He met Roy’s eyes though, a tremulous, hopeless smile in place.

Before either of them could say anything, Isaac’s booming voice cut through the room.

“Is this what all that ‘extra training’ was about?”

“Eh, no!” Jamie shot back, shoulders hunched up around his ears. “Look at me, you think you put on this kind of muscle in the bedroom?”

“Depends how you’re doing it.” Jan offered, which was a mildly terrifying train of thought Roy was not going to pursue.

“I can’t believe neither of you told me!” That was Keeley, somehow managing to look elated and put out at the same time.

“We haven’t told anyone.” Jamie whined. “Haven’t even told me mum yet. She’s never gonna forgive me.”

“I’m sure introducing her to Roy Kent will help smooth that over.” Rebecca said, eyes still bright with laughter and smirk firmly in place as she gave Roy the once over.

“I’ve already met her,” he snapped, the attention grating at him. “And it’s fucking new, alright? We didn’t need you lot sticking your noses in, and we still fucking don’t.”

There were a few grumbles but his typical Kentian reaction seemed to calm the rabble a bit.

“Question?” Sam raised a hand politely. “How long has this been going on, exactly?”

“About a month, I think.” Roy did a double-take and stared at Will, who had just cheerfully chipped in that (accurate) information from the corner.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Jamie covered his face with his hands. “Boot room?”

“Boot room.” Will confirmed sagely and Roy just knew his own face was turning red now.

“Boot room?” Trent sounded even more smug than he looked. Roy growled at him.

He was quickly distracted, however, when he noticed cash changing hands among the players and - in a mortifying twist of events - Higgins.

“You had a fucking betting pool?” Jamie’s voice rose in pitch and volume, incredulous and offended. “I were over here, having a crisis about a crush on our manager and you were betting on it?”

He was looking specifically at Colin and Dani, who both shrugged.

“It was not a crush.” Dani argued. “You’ve been head over heels for years. It just took you longer than everyone else to realise it.”

“Look at it this way.” Colin continued, blithely accepting a wad of notes from Richard. “At least we were confident it was going to happen.”

Jamie glowered and threw up his hands.

“I regret everything. I never should have fucking come out to you lot. You- Wait a minute.” He stopped mid-rant, blinking at the all but forgotten cake. “Did you all plan a surprise party for Roy and not invite me?!”

A few people did at least have the grace to wince at that.

“Thing is, babe,” Keeley started gently. “You tell Roy everything.”

“Kind of ruins the ‘surprise’ part.” Moe agreed. “We figured you’d be with him, anyway. You usually are.”

“Which makes all the sense in the world, now.” Trent observed and didn’t cower nearly enough under Roy’s vicious glare.

Jamie pouted, tucking his hands into the ends of his sleeves. “Don’t tell him everything.” he objected petulantly. “I can keep a secret.”

“We know.” Sam sidled a bit closer, smile genuine and voice cajoling. “The point is, we didn’t want you to have to. Even if it’s a nice thing, it can be hard to keep something from someone you, ah…”

He trailed off, glancing between the two of them.

“Care about.”

That was oddly touching, Roy thought, but Jamie still looked on the verge of being genuinely upset. This wasn’t when or how they’d talked about telling people.

“Right.” He clapped his hands together, bringing all the eyes in the room back to himself. “If it’s my fucking party, then what I say goes. First off, no one breathes a word about this outside of the people in this room.”

He glared around, making sure the gravity of that statement set in. There wasn’t as much fear as there might have been a year ago but he thought there was a tad more respect, at least.

“Second, we’re going to cut the fucking cake now. I will blow out a single candle. No bloody singing.”

A round of nodding. More than they’d expected, probably.

“And third.” He slipped his hand into Jamie’s, easing his fingers out of their grip on his shirt’s fabric with the movement. “I don’t want to hear a single fucking catcall, innuendo or double entendre when we leave together, got it? Today or any other day.”

The team especially looked disappointed but enough of them seemed to have taken notice of Jamie’s defensive posture that there wasn’t too much outcry. Keeley raised her eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyes, hoping his blush had died down.

“Glad we’re all on the same page. Now get to it.”

A hubbub of activity took over again as everyone returned to what they had been doing when Roy and Jamie unexpectedly burst into their party preparations. Music started up from someone’s phone and the sound of a champagne bottle being opened triggered a bunch of cheers.

Jamie shuffled in close again.

“Thanks.” he said quietly, swinging their joined hands a little. “You didn’t have to.”

“They’re a bunch of muppets.” Roy told him. “But no one here’s out to get us. It’s not… I know it’s not what we talked about but. It’s okay, right?”

Jamie nodded, chewing his lip. “Yeah. Yeah, course it is.” He huffed. “Can’t believe those two just made a mint off of me misery.”

“Misery?”

Jamie turned a little pink again and knocked his hip against Roy’s. “Got drunk at the end of season party last year. Ended up spilling my guts to Dani about how I felt about you. He roped in Colin to deal with the whole bisexuality thing, and both of them were sworn to secrecy.”

It pained Roy a little bit, to think of Jamie pining unhappily while he was still getting his head on straight. Or not straight, as it were.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make them pay for it.” Roy offered and Jamie’s expression cleared. He narrowed his eyes at the lads in question and hummed.

That didn’t bode well for them.

“And, since it’s a special occasion, I won’t mind you having a drink and a bit of cake.”

Jamie properly brightened at that and (quickly, shyly) kissed Roy’s cheek. It was so much more innocent than what they’d been doing just a few minutes ago but it threatened to make Roy weak at the knees.

He shoved at Jamie playfully and he grinned as he moved away and let himself be absorbed into the throng of people. Sam slung an arm around his shoulders immediately.

Beard sidled up into the now vacant space next to Roy.

“I’m going to tell Ted,” he informed him, sounding almost apologetic. Almost.

Roy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. But if he sends me anything with rainbows on it, you’ll be the one fucking burning it.”

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 36 - Resurface

Story to date in order (Tumblr / AO3)

Previous chapter

A kind of a build-up chapter for Virgil, because he’s decided to be brave and face something but that comes at a cost because I am incapable of letting them be fixed first time around. I also had to apply some very very minor whump to Scott just because it amuses me so to do and he was RIGHT THERE being a doofus and asking for it.

Hesitating to put this one out because there is so much good fic that’s appeared over the last week and I haven’t read it all yet but… I think if I don’t get this one out of draft mode I’m never going to properly focus on the finale chapter and I really need to get that done so I can finally post the art a fabulous someone did for me four months ago when I last thought I was nearly finished 🫣😬🙄

SO… here we go…

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Virgil’s studio was recessed into the cliff which meant it was protected from the elements. It was accessible only via his bedroom and a key coded door meant it was protected…ish from marauding younger brothers.

Although a huge picture window dominated one wall, very useful for those sky paintings, this could and often would be shuttered at the press of the button, transforming the room into a haven over which he had unfettered dominion.

Advanced atmospheric regulation meant he could ensure the air it wasn’t too arid for sculpting or too damp to allow a painting to dry. An objectively impressive array of light fixtures popped out at various levels, the angle and tone of each completely customisable at the flick of a slider (or twelve) on his tablet, meant he had absolute control of what bounced off his surroundings into his eyeballs. And the sound system…

Well.

What would be the point of a soundproof room if you couldn’t occasionally crank it up to symphony orchestra brass section volume. Virgil had played the French horn in high school and fully appreciated the sensation of his ribcage vibrating when the trombones sat behind him got into their groove.

He was safe here.

And yet, he couldn’t settle. Everything felt, off. Scratchy. As if sand had got into a sensitive mechanism and no amount of oil would flush it out again.

Virgil tucked the sketchbook under his arm and got up to adjust the brightness of the overhead spots down a little and nudged the temperature control up another increment. He’d been fiddling with it all morning but couldn’t quite find the precise balance he needed. Turning his back on the easel stool, he sat down heavily on the couch, removed a pencil from behind his ear and glared at the page.

He’d thought it might be a good idea to sketch out a few anatomical poses to build the detail on top of… to save Scott having to hang around while he got the basics done. Despite having shut himself in here all morning, he’d barely got beyond sketching a vaguely humanoid shape. Perhaps he’d got a little more fixated on the angle of an arm than strictly necessary… in fact he’d roughed it out in so many positions his graphite brother was giving off distinctly octopoid vibes.

The real one had been popping in and out all morning, providing coffee and snacks and unspoken reassurance but now was Here and Getting Ready and Virgil was also supposed to be Ready do some Healing. Find Some Closure. Desensitisation. All that healthy stuff. He tried to ignore the creeping doubt as to whether he was, or would ever, in fact, be ready to…

“Can I make a suggestion?”

He jumped a little and dropped his pencil as Scott called out from behind Virgil’s bedroom door. He put the book to one side and crawled under his chair to locate it.

“Virg?” The door opened and he could imagine Scott peering around it, with all the darkness creeping up his neck and around his throat… his heart raced and his breath escaped in a tiny squeak.

Uuuuh… he wasn’t ready. Not ready at all. Maybe he never would be. Maybe this was… maybe he was just…

“Virgil, are you alright?”

Realising he’d frozen with his upper body wedged under the couch and that Scott was inevitably now aiming the Concerned Eyebrows at his behind, Virgil forced out an airy “All good, I just dropped my… my… err…” he huffed a fake laugh to cover up the gap. Stifled the panicky breathing… the word had gone. Just gone. He spread his fingers out, feeling the grain of the wood beneath him, sanded almost-but-not-quite smooth, and focussed on drowning out the whistle in his ears with an inane little tune Gordon was humming earlier. This was transient…

“Pen. I mean pencil. Pencil!!”

The floorboards vibrated a little as knees slid into view just beside him. Navy blue knees. No, not navy. Shade 1620 “Airforce Blue” - he had a tube of it on the easel. He squeezed his eyes shut. Hex 00308F. Several paint tubes, just in case. And some inks. Zero zero three zero eight eff. Navy blue was 000080. The three and the F somehow changed everything.

A hand on his shoulder, unnaturally tentative as they all still were around him. Still. He scrunched his eyes still tighter and tried not to let it bother him, he wasn’t the type to be bitter about being ‘Poor Fragile Virgil best-not-surprise-him-lest-he-freak-out-and-see-things-again…’ ok, he was still a little bitter perhaps. And being not very kind to himself either. He’d tell Scott off for that.

Scott…

He pressed his fingertips into the floor just enough to stop them shaking, just enough to hurt. As his neck and shoulders tensed in sympathy he felt his brother’s arms curl around him, holding him steady, keeping him from bumping his head on the wooden frame. Holding him steady, keeping him from sinking through the floor into who knew where… he dragged in a breath, cursing his vocal chords for the little whine that caused.

“I’m here. What do you need?”

“Pencil.”

The harmonic skitter of light wood rolling over heavy before the pencil was nudged up close to his hand and he grasped it like a lifeline.

He couldn’t open his eyes, not yet. He was terrified he wouldn’t be able to trust what he saw if he did.

He could feel Scott breathe, the weight of his arm. He could hear the repeated “It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

Yet both those senses had betrayed him before too. Only one had not. It had never lied to him, but, quiet and unshowy, it was easier to ignore if the others told him a better story.

Right now, the impersonal fog of the dry cleaning spray Grandma had used almost overwhelmed him. It was a white noise.

A grey noise?

He reached past the grey for something familiar, something safe - something to prove this wasn’t hollow. There was the ever-present scent of coffee on his brother’s breath and the subtle hint of super-shiny gel… no, he corrected himself, he’d upgraded to the pricier ‘sublime shiny’ recently… which he swore was better despite Virgil pointing out the identical ingredients, smell and, even taste… alright he might have taken the debate a little too far but when Scott had poked his tongue out at him Virgil hadn’t been able to resist giving him a sample. For science’s sake.

The look on his brother’s face had been spectacular.

He chuckled and a little of the dread melted away.

He still needed to sneak some down to Brains’ lab to run a chemical analysis actually…

“Virg? You with me, short stu…OOOFFF”

Scott had clearly ducked his head under the couch to try to see what was going on and the resulting clunk demonstrating he’d immediately forgotten that he’d done so vibrated through Virgil’s teeth.

“Scott! Your head!”

“Is fine. Thick skull, remember?”

“The thickest.” Eyes still resolutely closed, Virgil assessed his tone. It was light, but not the too-light tone Scott adopted when trying to conceal an actual injury from a brother… There was more than a hint of worry, obviously, which Virgil needed to Do Something About because he was painfully aware it was him causing it.

“Virgil, are you ok? What do you need?”

“I’m ok. I… yeah. I’m good.” He was. He could do this.

“Alright.” The audible skepticism was perhaps justified but Scott had clearly decided to let him call the shots today.

“I’m not criticising your process here but would it be easier to do the arting somewhere other than under the couch.”

Virgil grunted, which was frankly all the response the question deserved. Then, eyes tight shut he shuffled backwards. The sensitive skin just below the edge of his little finger brushed against Scott’s leg and he shivered as he recognised the fabric. Polywool. Strong but soft. Permanent military creases. More capable of withstanding a worried brother knee-sliding across a wooden floor than the string of ludicrously expensive but patently unScott-proof suit pants that the CEO wore to TI meetings and managed to destroy on a regular basis. But not robust enough for any kind of action. This was dress uniform. Just for show. He’d never have got in a jet wearing it.

But without it he’d never have got in that jet…

The voice of dread in his heart hissed at him. Virgil tried to squash it, but the edges were sharp and tried to steal his breath. He could feel his pulse begin to race again, echoing back through the thumb-tips he had pressed so firmly into the floor. No, that wouldn’t work. He knew this. He knew how to deal with this now. The hand on his shoulder tightened infinitesimally, lending him strength. So, he forced himself to take a slower breath and let himself acknowledge the thought. It was a logical fallacy, he knew that, but as the counsellor had advised he resisted the temptation to be angry with himself for thinking it. He could see where it came from. It wasn’t unreasonable or stupid for his subconscious to reach for something, anything to blame. It just wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t true.

What was true?

He’d come back. Scott had come back. He was here right now, humming Mom’s song as he rested his head on top of Virgil’s and stroked his arm.

Virgil opened his eyes. Brown floor. Black pencil. 1620... Scott’s legs. He raised his head a little, braced for the darkness…

Light blue?

Light blue shirt? Airforce shirt, yes, but not what he was expecting.

Scott interpreted his frown of confusion before he realised he’d formed it.

“I was going to suggest maybe I don’t wear the jacket just yet? I could, I dunno, just hold it or something. Till you’re used to it?”

Virgil realised he wasn’t blinking enough and pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets for a moment.

“Right. I… yes. I’m sorry I…” he huffed irritably “This is so ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t.” Scott squeezed his shoulder again. “And you told me not to say things like that.”

Virgil swallowed the impulse to point out that for Scott it was different. Maybe, after all, it wasn’t so different. In the absence of anything constructive to say he removed his hands from his face and made an attempt at a reassuring smile. It was going quite well until his eye was caught by a rush of movement as the hastily slung jacket slithered off the back of a chair and curled into a pile of darkness on the floor. He averted his eyes and returned his attention to his brother’s face.

“So, what do you want to do?”

Here, Virgil drew a blank. Beyond his request to paint Scott wearing the dreaded dress uniform, he was surprisingly unsure about what he wanted to do. He hadn’t got much past the idea to get himself, Scott and The Uniform in the same room and not go mad.

As the heap of fabric continued to noisily suck all the light from the room, he wasn’t sure the latter part was going as planned.

“I don’t… I don’t actually err…” he tailed off but the point had been conveyed.

Scott hummed again, but not in a musical way this time. That was the ‘IR-Commander-is-formulating-a-plan’ hmmmmm.

“We have all day... no need to rush anything. Do you want to go outside for a bit? It’s really nice out there?”

Outside was Scott’s go-to fix. If things were difficult, he did better in the open air… or at least somewhere with a clear view of the sky. Virgil suspected he knew why and tried not to think about that too much. What he did know was that it was when his brother tucked himself away - when he found a hidey hole, enclosed and dark - well that was when little brother’s alarm bell needed to ring. Outside was good.

Yet, Virgil knew Scott hadn’t suggested it for his own benefit this time. It wasn’t for the air but for the sun.

Virgil’s comfort instinct was more towards warmth. The flannel wasn’t purely a fashion choice after all. It didn’t matter where he was - snuggled in bed, melting his face off in the sauna, taking an excessively long hot shower, hibernating on a sun lounger - it was all good as long as the goosebumps were kept at bay. Gordon had long ago given up trying to persuade him to lower the cabin temperature of Two. If Virgil’s skin was warm and relaxed he had at least a chance of thinking clearly about everything else.

Outside in the sunshine sounded good. It had a decent chance of being better than here anyway, in the bowels of the earth where the darkness was closing in and an icy draft scraped across his face.

So Virgil nodded and allowed his big brother to steer him towards the doorway. Where he stood helplessly for a few moments as he realised the hand with which he’d reached for the handle was a white knuckled fist clutching a pencil for dear life… and he didn’t quite seem to know how to put it down. He shivered again.

Scott rushed around behind him, chattering away and collecting whoknewwhat, then took charge of the door-opening and, taking a firm grip on Virgil’s pencil-free hand, towed him up the stairs and out into the daylight.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

[fluentmoviequoter]

hii i love ur work smm!! is it okay if i can request a dalton lambert + prompt 11? “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

I LOVE UR DALTON IMAGINES/ONESHOTS WHATEVERR <333

Thank you so much!!! I appreciate your kind words and am so happy to hear that you love my Dalton fics! Thanks your reading and this request!

I got two requests for this prompt and actually had two ideas (which are both equally flirty and domestic), so I'm posting both. Read the ice cream date version here.

Warnings: fluffy and flirty, very brief/vague mention of insecurities. 0.4k+ words

A/N: We need more Dalton gifs. I've used this one already, but it's the only one that fits the 'fluffy' bill.

Join the 100 Follower Celebration!

Prompt 11: "You're lucky you're hot."

“Absolutely not,” you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Please,” Dalton drags out, putting on his best puppy dog eyes as he asks again.

“I am not letting you draw me. Especially not when you’re going to show it to your entire class.”

“But the whole point of the assignment is to focus on something we love, and I have an idea that is sure to get me an A!”

“Your grade is fine.”

Dalton huffs a sigh and collapses against his bed. “I thought I was loved, and now I must question everything.”'

“I know you’re an artist, but you don’t have to be quite so melodramatic.”

Dalton remains silent, and you consider his request. He begins tracing shapes against your hand as he lies beside you. Glancing at him, you realize how much he loves you, and you love him, and decide.

“Fine,” you say quietly. “You can draw me, but I have to approve it before you turn it in.”

“I love you so much,” he exclaims as he kisses you on his way to get his sketchpad and pencils.

“You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“I’m what?” Dalton asks, stopping as he reaches for a pencil.

“Lucky you’re hot. I wouldn’t let many people do this.”

“You think I’m hot?”

“Shut up, Dalton. You’re losing your chance.”

Dalton nods as he finishes gathering his things, then pulls his chair to sit across from you. He tells you to move and do whatever you want while he draws. You start stiff, but as Dalton comments and compliments you repeatedly, you begin to loosen up. When you realize you feel comfortable, Dalton announces that he’s done.

“Let me see,” you demand, reaching out.

“Nope. Answer my question,” Dalton responds, twisting so you cannot reach the sketch.

“If I think you’re hot? Of course, I do, Dalton. You’re the cutest, handsomest, hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” you answer honestly.

“That’s the only reason you let me draw you?”

You stand from the bed and take the sketch from him, placing it on his desk without looking at it. Lowering yourself into his lap, you set your hands on his shoulders while he holds your hips.

“No. I agreed because of everything in here,” you say, touching Dalton's forehead, “and here,” his heart.

“Oh.”

You lower your chin and kiss him, sighing as his hands pull you closer and he deepens the kiss.

“I let you draw me,” you begin as you pull back, leaning your forehead against his, “because I love you, and I know that you love me. You show me in everything you say and do. I appreciate you wanting to draw me.”

“Thanks for letting me.”

“Anytime. Can I see it now, since you’re still hot?”

“Only if you kiss me like that again.” You stand from his lap, and he grabs your hand, keeping you close as he adds, “And you’re the hot one, ask the picture.”

[mad-serotonin]

who are your top ten favorite black clover and ships? talk about them! (welcome back to the fandom, always loved your art)

I’m thinking you meant top 10 CHARACTERS and top 10 ships. Here’s the characters for now! I have another ask for ships and since that’s gonna take me a bit more time to really think about you’ll get those soon with that ask I promise!

My top 10:

1. Finral

Already talked about him in depth so I’ll let everyone else shine here lol

2. Magna

The manliest man. The actual best underdog character in Shonen. Like Tabata knew what he was doing during the Heart kingdom training arc. (Vague manga spoilers for spade arc) Having to work insanely hard to catch up to everyone when they can do something you can’t and finding a way to accomplish something no one else can do????? That’s such a real experience and he’s so admirable.

The literal best friend you could have in this world. He’s so silly and supportive and awesome. Design wise one of my fav character designs ever he’s so sick. I should probably make a solo post about him too cuz I could go deep into his character.

3. Rill

THE ARTIST’S BEST FRIEND!!!! I heart him so much and the approach to his upbringing was so beautiful. His destruction circling around a lack of direction and inspiration for his work is so insanely relatable. And just seeing him be so carefree and happy in battle creating art 😭 I wanna be him.

Winner for the Clover Kingdom’s best laugh. Cutest character design he is so fluffy and pastel. I want to see more of his magic it’s made some of the best battle scenes in the show with just how much freedom there is with its imagery.

He’s so baby I just love him. Also shout out to him for changing the squad name for azure deer from gray deer. I can’t remember if it was explicitly stated but I KNOW that he did that.

4. Asta

The boy of the hour. Honorary spot at #1 because he is the one of the most successfully written Shonen protagonists of his archetype. Really love taking the going for the top motivation and giving a depth to it outside of personal ambition and having the concentration be on changing the world for the better. The purest soul.

Asta is so important. He not only motivates and inspires EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. within the story. But also inspires so many people irl. Like i literally think “would this make Asta proud” when I do stuff sometimes JSJDHDDHHD and it motivates me to get through rough times.

He’s a cutie patootie and he breaks all expectations for what characters would typically do when faced with conflicts like he is. He truly is one of a kind and brings out the best in everyone.

I absolutely love the aspect of his character where he’s literally everyone’s lil brother. He just cares and trusts everyone on his team and fights for them SIMPLY because they are teammates no questions asked. Every time I rewatch the series I just admire the effect he has on their world and how it spreads one step at a time with each adventure. So many things wouldn’t have been possible without him being himself in situations and setting people straight in understanding their world. (This fact stands true even if not considering the anti magic as a factor. It’s all him baby.)

5. Langris

UGHHHHH I could write another essay but I shan’t. He is such a wonderfully complex character who has been so forcefully shaped into a figurehead of a group that represents strength, giving him such a terrible egotistical, yet self loathing view of himself. And despite all of it he genuinely wants to love and be loved outside of those factors. He’s just a very confused kid who needs genuine support instead of ego-feeding elitist parents HDHDHDH.

I’m very passionate about him. And I am SO PROUD of his character development through the story. Especially with his relationship with Finral. (I will for sure write a whole separate essay discussing them sometime soon). He was written so well both in his antagonistic position which in my eyes was very much mostly out of his control (not completely he’s not totally excused ✋🏻). Seeing him make genuine effort to change his outlook and behavior to rebuild a healthy sibling relationship, to support his brother and motivate him to improve himself as well, AND to remove himself from a position of high status when he knows he’s no longer the one suited for it really just proves how much he has grown. His complexity in his character just makes him so interesting and I want to see him and Finral team up more please I beg there was not enough. HAHSHSHS

6. Luck

I always loved Luck’s story and the exploration on his ability to express his emotions as time goes on is so good. Like the elf battle always makes me SOB he’s so good. I genuinely am obsessed with his friendship with Magna they are the best duo ever. He’s such a lil weirdo and his antics are just so perfectly lil brother energy to the rest of the squad. I will say Tabata had PEAK WRITING with his unwavering fear in battle that made the perfect set up for the seriousness of the Spade arc when they show him not wanting to fight ABSOLUTELY beautiful setup and reward right there. He’s a baby boy who doesn’t need to be protected but I want to anyways.

7. Klaus

OUR 👏🏻 KING 👏🏻 OF 👏🏻 CHARACTER 👏🏻 GROWTH👏🏻! Literally perfection how this man goes from prickly noble to Asta and Yuno’s number 1 fan. He has the perfect older brother energy and really became just an absolute sweetheart. I adore his support for Asta so much it always makes me laugh when they pan to him doing some weird stuff in hopes that it helps him out.

His magic is also so cool and damn I wish Tabata would give him some more badass spells because he could do SO MUCH. Give him a suit of magic armor mayhaps idk but it’s such a fun magic for him. Also design wise I love his hair and his features are just so pleasing. ESPECIALLY during the elf arc my god he looked like a model. I just think he’s very pretty HDHXHDHD. BUT YES an absolute king and deserves all the love.

8. Mars

Oooooo we need more of him in the manga. I swear the coolest dudes are underutilized this man is so sick. I love Mars’ story and I’m so glad that he reocurred in the story the way he did. He was really the perfect set up for the diamond kingdom being in the plot at all. But he himself. AN ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART he’s so good. He and Fana are precious together and I really admire his strength and commitment to his goals throughout his whole story. He had some of the coolest magic and I desperately need a Mars and Asta team up with their massive swords.

One of the best character designs from silhouette, outfit, colors and all. He is very handsome and just a cool dude overall. Y’all need to make more fan art of him I don’t see enough. I’ll make some too I promise.

9. Leopold

The king of not being in the story enough. For REAL he is so powerful and cool and he’s one of Asta’s rivals too I NEED a triple team up of him asta and yuno it would be FIRE absolute pun intended hehe

I love how straightforward he is, he’s so motivated and such a strong mage. I hope he gets to lead the crimson lions one day he absolutely deserves the position. He is the best friend of best friends. Being supportive of Asta from the start and being one of the least “noble” of all the other squads immediately solidified him as a favorite to me. And he just continued to kick butt and be a cool lad. His power is fun and I desperately wanna see him make full blown fire tornadoes NSHXHDH it would be SICK. but yeAH he is such an awesome character and a perfect rival and I think he deserves more screen time. I will for sure be drawing him again soon.

10. Yami

That’s our DAD 🫵🏻

God I will say this with all the confidence in the world he is the BEST WRITTEN DANG TEAM LEADER in Shonen. Like Tabata really said let this silly goofy man rescue all of these outcasts and be their dad and help them grow and I cannot handle any moment from any character without thinking about Yami’s influence. HE HAS DONE SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE.

The smartest idea ever translated from brain to paper was making this man a walking poop joke. LIKE INGENIOUS. I always find it funny and I always will. Make this absolute badass a true dad. He poop and he make bad joke. Honestly the funniest character.

His story from what I’ve gotten to is so interesting. It was so worth the wait to get to see more about him but even so his story just in the clover kingdom is so wonderful. I love how he really sets up the themes Asta stands for before he even gets to the squad. Where all of the change in the kingdom that happens wouldn’t have been done without him (a foreigner) and his whole team of unloved and unwanted individuals who were seen as worthless. Literally showing the world how wrong they are. Yami is best dad and he always will be.

Special shout out to William, Vanessa, and Gordon they deserve to be up here. Also David cuz I think he’s pretty and I love his magic but he is SO background character it hurts.

In the end I would have loved to talk about more of them but It’s hard picking favorites with this show. Literally everyone is written so well and I love them.

Thank you for the ask sorry if i went on a tangent a couple times LOL

[skyloftian-nutcase]

So I’m kinda curious, I know you said you are not much of a shipping person (aside from like SkSw Zelink and Miphlink) but are there any of the popular ships that stand out either as ones you think are cute or ones you really do not like?

Hmmm 🤔 I’m fairly neutral or just meh about most, but I guess there are a few that stand out? Or maybe I should just list my opinions on the major ones I know of?

BotW Zelink - I don’t mind it post Calamity. Not really into it pre-calamity, it feels like it’s at the expense of a relationship that’s already there (Mipha and Link). But dang the two definitely would be close after the calamity, given that they’re the only ones who have such a shared experience. I could see it being romantic or platonic, and there’s kind of a heavy leaning towards romantic but then totk also makes it seem platonic sometimes too?? Whatever. Nintendo likes to be vague (except Skyward Sword, let’s be real, nothing about that was vague lol), but I can see it happening after everything.

Midlink - I think it’s sweet. I think in canon Link’s most likely gonna either be with Ilia or someone we don’t even see in the game as he travels, but Midna definitely could’ve had a chance with him if there’d been more time for them. They had good chemistry, and the physical attraction was clearly there when Link saw her true form.

OoT Zelink - Nope. Especially Adult Timeline, absolutely not. It’s a pet peeve of mine that people ship this Link with anyone in the Adult Timeline - he is a child in a teenager’s body. NO. Sure, his body might be attracted to people, but his brain sure ain’t figuring it out, and anybody who wants to explore that just… no. NO. As for Child Timeline, I feel like this Link has a hard time reconciling what happened, has a hard time letting go, and would therefore have a really difficult time separating Child Timeline Zelda from Adult Timeline Zelda and that would lead to too many mixed feelings. I can’t see them getting together. This ship is either entirely one sided (I can 100% see Adult Timeline Zelda romanticizing the Hero she’s been waiting for before she really realizes that he’s still a kid, if she ever realizes it) or nonexistent.

Malink - I quite like it. I honestly didn’t really see it in the game, there’s like… enough for it to happen, I guess, but admittedly Linked Universe has made me biased. But given that it’s heavily implied TP Link and OoT Link are related, and TP Link knows Epona’s song, and Malon was a friend of Link’s, and she talks of marrying a knight in shining armor, and Shade is a knight in shining armor… I can put two and two together. And I think they’d be cute together.

Sidlink - Just… why. I get that half the fandom is in love with Sidon, so they project that, but good grief. Link was engaged to his sister. That’s some Hamlet level incest nonsense there. Link may not remember Mipha all that well but Sidon freaking does. Just because the dude is ridiculously sweet and supportive to literally everyone and about literally everything doesn’t mean he’s romantically inclined towards everyone. He’s a golden retriever, there are two brain cells firing between those fins, let the man just be happy and vibe, good grief. I had this opinion before totk came out, and then the addition of Yona made me laugh because I knew the fandom would blow up about it, but she’s honestly really sweet and good for him - I loved when she called him out to help him, she’s a good wife, I like her 😤

Uh… I think those are all the popular ships I have any kind of actual opinions about? Aside from Skyward Sword Zelink and Miphlink, love them both, mwuah. The rest I’m just meh. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Honestly, I’m very inclined to say that just because two people share oxygen together doesn’t mean they’re gonna fall in love. Just because two people might have some chemistry doesn’t mean they’re gonna fall in love. And just because two hormonal teenagers think each other is hot does not mean they’re gonna end up together. But since romance is such a huge thing in fandoms and in our culture, and I am very much not in a romantic relationship and therefore the culture makes me feel like my life is incomplete, I am not very inclined to get into shipping all that much (translation: sometimes shipping is downright annoying to me, and I hate it when fandoms ship characters together just because they like each other as if other relationships can’t even exist or be meaningful), even the ones that I love. My biggest weakness is loving families, though, so that’s usually where I cheat lol.

[tornoleander]

I'm in the middle of reading wytyaa cuz I saw you mention it at some point and it sounded cool

Anyway, if wytyaa Jay and bbnb Jay ever met, and you somehow got them to traumadump on eachother, both of them would think "First Master, this guy went through hell. Compared to him I had it easy." Meanwhile neithed had it easy and both went through hell.

Might be wrong cuz I haven't finished wytyaa yet but I'm gonna go back to reading now byeeeeee

Oh I’m going to rant for a while because I love talking about and comparing these Fics.

YES, I can absolutely see both them sitting there and invalidate their own experiences. (Unless one of them gets a very important lesson about comparing Trauma)

Art under cut

Trauma dumping though? Currently I doubt wytyaa Jay would. And while bbnb Jay seems willingly to talk to his therapist there’s not a chance 16 year old him from an alternate universe will learn the extent of the shit I had to read through.

The have similar canon complaint story line, to an extent. Both fix my many issues with Cannon and add so much more. Both deal in forced labor extreme physical abuse blood wounds broken bones Starvation With emotional abuse from Nadakhan’s and the crew. But everything beyond that is where things drastically differ

Biggest difference being Explicit vs Mature

Wytyaa being vaguely 16+ and won’t go past implying anything sexual. So a lot is left to interpretation, which is usually easier to handle.

While Bbnb has be 18+ Does not shy away from anything….. no matter how much you wish it would most popular ninjago dead dove for a reason.

Wytyaa Jay is drugged out for the 2 months he has to deal with the withdrawal and wiped memories coming back to him. This scrambles the order you learn about what he went through. Vengestone sorta poisons him, the power suppression is painful and causes long term damage.

In the end Neither Jay is given a moment to feel safe and comfortable over months they are always in extreme danger this is the sort of damage that turns ptsd into C-ptsd✨

Like you said, neither had it easy they both went through hell.

But while comparing trauma is ultimately unhelpful experiences effect people differently both Jays are very traumatized I can tell you one of these was A LOT harder to get through as a reader. VERY much not the same reader experience.

Here’s are the fics with the obligatory READ THE TAGS and warnings at the top of each chapter. They are there for your safety when r themes of sa can be helpful and hurtful to some. Know what you can handle..

When you think your all alone by @mondothebombo

Bending but never breaking by @writing-hat

Both authors are awesome and have read each other Fics lmao.

Never posted this but a long while ago when both fics left off on angst for a long time I messaged them the same thing and got these replies.

The Audacity of hat to blame mondo lol.

If any of you like these fics follow me cause I have a lot of art coming. Also if you have any asks don’t be shy! I could rant for so much longer.

[codenamesazanka]

Regarding your recent post about deku releasing tenko’s story — while I can absolutely believe that doing it would be a bad look for him, all might, and heroes in general, with the way the war arc progressed (and how much collapse could arguably be contributed to ‘people’s overinflated expectations for heroes falling apart when it turns out they’re all mortal fallible people’), I’m not entirely sure that that would actually make Izuku not share the story. Like, it might not gain coverage or press, but there’s a level of honesty and transparency that doing it implies and that the world at large didn’t seem to have beforehand in a way that makes me think it’s supposed to gain that honesty and transparency.

You're totally correct, anon! I do think that, if Deku were to want to share Tenko's Story, he would forge ahead even though it potentially is a bad look for him/Heroes/All Might. After all, he sought to save Shigaraki despite Shigaraki being a Villain; he made sure Overhaul saw Pops again; and he encouraged Spinner to write a book despite it being one that will "stick it to the Heroes." A determination to see things through once he set his mind to it. If he were to want to share what he learned, he would commit to it with honesty and transparency.

The key word is 'if', though. What the story has shown us is that he doesn't seem very interested in doing so, beyond telling All Might and maybe Tsukauchi. He doesn't seem to have told Spinner, who he knows is Shigaraki's friend, someone who was at the center of Shigaraki's heart, and who it might help to know.

Not to mention he never really told anyone in reality his desire to save Shigaraki anytime during the entire third act, besides Gran (implied in Gran's advice that death is salvation), maybe All Might (generous guess), and vaguely Uraraka (tho his words were "I can't ignore that crying inner child.").

Plus like, Deku also learned through Nagant that the HPSC were doing extrajudicial executions. Now that is something that is basically mandatory to expose to the public. The right thing to do is to whistleblow that to hell and back. The HPSC's black ops were injustice, what they did to Nagant was injustice, and should to revealed to the world, as the honest and transparent thing to do. And yet it doesn't seem like Deku ever does so.

Deku, as he is in the story, simply has no interest in speaking out about things like these. (So much for reaching out a hand when it's none of his business, huh?)

And I have to wonder if it's even enough to be just honest and transparent in HeroAcaLand. We've seen Endeavor confess that Dabi's video was true; we saw Hawks point blank admit he killed Twice... and nothing really came out of that. It didn't seem to have gained much coverage or brought about the controversy it deserved because the collapse of the state was a more pressing matter (despite these things arguably being a factor in the collapse of the state), despite Endeavor and Hawks being honest and transparent. That was the honesty and transparency that the world didn't have beforehand - Jaku forcing these things to be exposed to the light and the heroes readily confessing to them (probably helped by the HPSC having its head killed off). And it barely penetrated society's thick skull.

If Deku were to share Tenko's story, I agree that he would do it despite it reflecting poorly on him and the Heroes and All Might. I agree that he would be honest and transparent about it. But that's it. He'll just tell it once, just to have it on record, then never again unless it's specifically brought up. IMO, of course, but look at how he promised to never forget Shigaraki, and yet Shigaraki is never mentioned at all in the final chapter, only getting one small ghostly panel.

No, what needs to be done, then, is not just being honest and transparency, but also fighting for these things to matter. To stay relevant and change actually made in response. To advocate for the villains-who-are-also-victims. Sadly, Deku has just never been too interested in truly helping Shigaraki in this aspect.

*as always, substitute criticism of Deku for criticism of Horikoshi's writing to the amount of your liking.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

i made this silly little post and then just did the thing myself :)

“I would say that Steve is… relatively smart. For a human.”

“Hey!” comes an irritated yell from the other room.

Robin turns to face the doorway, turning away from the camera. “Zip it, human! I’m doing my interviews. I have important things to say. People are very interested.” She turns back toward the camera again, a smile plastered to her face. “Now, what was I saying? Oh right, Steve. He’s… passably intelligent. I mean, he’s no Einstein, that’s for sure. That guy could party.” She laughs.

“Okay, and how long has Steve, uh, been with you guys?” Dustin asks from behind the camera.

“Um, maybe a year, I think?”

“I’ve been Eddie’s familiar for ten years,” Steve grumbles as he comes into the room with a cup of tea, which he holds out for Robin to take. He turns to Dustin and the camera. “It’s really just a matter of time before he turns me.” He rocks back on his heels. “He said literally any day now.”

Robin smiles placidly, nodding at him until he leaves the room.

“Between you and me,” she stage whispers to Dustin, “Eddie is never turning him.”

“Could you explain what a familiar is?” Dustin asks.

“Well… usually a familiar takes care of you, you know, does the cleaning, shopping, finds you victims.”

“Victims?” Will, another one of the producers, asks. He looks a little anxiously toward Lucas, the camera guy, who does his best to ignore it.

“Yeah, like. Food. You know.” Robin takes a sip from her teacup, waving her free hand in some vague gesture. “Nancy and I are partial to virgins.”

“Uh, right. Better watch out, Dustin,” Lucas laughs a little nervously, nudging Dustin with his elbow.

Dustin scowls, but before he can respond, Robin says, “Don’t worry. Nancy’s forbidden us from eating any of you.” She smiles again, like that’s supposed to make them feel any better.

~*~

“Okay, Steve, can you tell us a little bit about yourself?” Dustin asks Steve, who’s fidgeting on the couch.

Steve pulls at his collar as he answers. “Uh, sure. I used to be a kindergarten teacher. I actually really loved it? But then I met Eddie at a bar. Thought he was, uh, pulling my leg, you know, about the whole…” Steve rubs his palms on his thighs. “Vampire thing? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Yeah, being a vampire. Sure,” Dustin responds.

“Right. Thought he was joking. Thought it was a line, you know. So I… this is kind of embarrassing.” Steve scratches at his cheek. “Well, I went home with him, y’know. You’ve seen him.” He laughs a little nervously. “Anyway, I found out that he actually was not lying, much to my… absolute horror really.”

“And… what made you stay?” Will asks.

“I dunno,” Steve shrugs his shoulders, eyes darting to the side of the camera, like he doesn’t really want to answer the question. “It’s an interesting prospect, isn’t it? Living forever? Being immortal?” He shrugs again.

“So,” Dustin starts, drawing out the ‘o’ sound. “Are you guys, like… more than friends?” Lucas visibly cringes at the phrasing.

Steve laughs, bright and surprised. “Uh, no. No. Just, uh. I’m just his familiar.”

“But you’ve been here ten years?“ The way the question comes out of Will’s mouth makes it sound like he hadn’t really meant to ask it. Dustin cuts him a look, scowling again.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, looking down at his lap. “Yeah, I have.”

~*~

“Tell us about how you became a vampire,” Dustin says.

Eddie, who’s sitting on the couch in front of the camera, scratches at his neck, just under the collar of his shirt. “Hmm. I was turned in the 80s. Can’t really remember most of it. Was at some concert and some guy offered me some coke or something in the back of his van. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a field feeling like shit. Thought I’d had a bad trip.” Eddie laughs.

“And have you ever turned anyone?” Will asks.

“No,” Eddie tells them, frowning slightly. “Don’t think I’d even know how.”

“But—“ Will starts, but Lucas digs his elbow into his ribs, cutting off his question.

“What about Steve?” Dustin asks instead.

“What about him?”

“He said he’s been with you ten years. That you’ve promised to turn him any day now.”

Eddie smiles, boyish and sweet. “Well. I say a lot of things. And look at him. Who’d give that up?”

Will and Dustin look at each other. “What do you mean?” It’s Lucas who asks this time.

“A pretty little human who does anything I say based on the abstract promise that I might one day make him a vampire?” Eddie grins.

Next to Dustin, Will lets out a long exhale.

[eruanee]

Kiryuu Touga and the cyclical narrative

TW : Discussions of misogyny, emotional manipulation and abuse, sexual abuse and (sexual) child abuse. (Very vague) mention of incest.

First of all, not really as a disclaimer but more as a recommendation, a lot of my thoughts about Touga are shaped by this essay, which is definitely easily one of my favorite pieces of Utena meta. I think I'm going to implicitly or more explicitly reference it sometimes, but you don't need to read it to understand this post.

I have a complex relationship with Touga. He is despicable, yet the more I watch the series, the more I find myself... fascinated by him. This post is a pretty much a synthesis of all these thoughts.

On a purely narrative level, Touga's role is a bit special. He's the antagonist of the first arc. The three duels involving him are all turning points in the series. He's a core character in the development of several other characters (Saionji, Nanami, Utena and Miki on a different level).

Yet, turns out he's only a puppet, just as everyone else is. How surprising. And when it comes down to it, what do we know about Touga ?

He's the Student Council's president. He seemingly can't have a relationship with anyone without manipulating them to his advantage. He sleeps with any girl (and maybe not only girls) who breathe around him in a 1 ft radius. His way of coping with depression is to seal himself in a wide and totally empty room to listen to his own voice on repeat to ponder heavily on his broken hopes and ideals. (Hmm. Hardcore.)

And more importantly, he wants power. A power that would be absolute. But why so ?

And this is the point where it gets complicated.

Touga is barely the main topic of episodes focused on him. He is the center of many obsessions and interests, but it seems we never touch upon him as a person. He can be seen being vaguely vulnerable in eps 11 and 12 and then there's the whole Black Rose arc thing. But where does all this mess steam from ?

Victim status

Eps 35 and 36 are the one going deeper into Touga’s character and yet... we’re barely sure of what’s actually going on in his brain. These episodes always give me a weird feeling because we don’t really get to see Touga express his feelings very clearly or freely... We barely get to hear his thoughts. 

Just like Anthy.

Don’t make me say what I didn’t say, though. Touga gets to have way more agency than ever does Anthy, and he certainly doesn't endure the same dehumanization as she does. Anthy does have agency in a way. But she expresses it in hidden, implicit ways : playing tricks, hitting people in their sore spots, sarcasm, empty eyes and fake smiles. She’s manipulative and Touga is, too. These two share many similarities, though they can’t completely blend with each other, of course. 

We don’t know much about Touga’s childhood. We know he and Nanami were adopted (or “sold”) to the Kiryuu family at a young age. That’s basically it in the canon of the series. Though, Touga’s backstory in the movie, showing him being sexually abused by his adoptive father, was apparently meant to be included in the series as well :

Although the TV series touched upon Touga’s younger days, the film goes into more details – the wound of Touga that was never directly depicted. In his younger days, Touga was a normal kid who enjoyed happy times with his friend Saionji Kyouichi and his younger sister Nanami. However, he came to know his unfortunate fate from the time he was ordered by his parents to wear his hair long. His parents sold him to the Kiryuu family. Although he was an adopted son on the surface, the instinctive Touga knew what that meant. And in order to protect his younger sister, he accepted his lot. Being sold. We did not go into depicting what Touga’s parents obtained by going as far as selling their son. We would like you to think of it as a kind of metaphor. 

And Touga accepted in silence the sexual abuse from his new parents. His personality changed while he made a magnanimous show of enjoying the abuses in order to prevent his personality from splitting. The change took place in a spot so deep in his mind, that even those closest to him did not notice. Saionji and Nanami never noticed out of their innocence. And Touga never told his secret to anyone. It is said that a human being gains whatever he lost in exchange. So what did Touga gain in exchange at that point in time? It was the sense of alienation from being abused every night and seeing his innocent friend and sister during the day. The alienated self.

(Extract of a comment Enokido, one of the writers who worked on Utena, wrote about Touga’s role in the Utena movie.)

Of course, you could argue whether or not the sexual abuse is canon or not in the series. After all, the series and the movie don’t seem to take place in the same canon (even though it is hard to completely disconnect the two). Whatever you choose to believe, I personally think it all makes so much sense. 

It makes sense regarding Touga’s general behavior in the series (but this is more touched upon in the essay I linked above) and it makes his goal and his narrative role much clearer.

Being sold like a mere object, knowing a much harsher truth about life Saionji and Nanami don’t know about, showing everyone a stronger facade in order to not completely lose your mind and keep protecting your friend and your sister from this reality and eventually... letting them know in a painfully gendered way, perpetuating everything this system has forced on you. 

It has all become part of you. 

Keeping the cycle of violence going became part of your blood and flesh. Making clear who is supposed to inflict pain and who is supposed to receive it. Who is supposed to protect and who is supposed to be protected. Who is supposed to act and who is supposed to wait. 

And you ? No, you’re never supposed to hurt anymore. You want a way out of this. For you, the easiest way is to simply reclaim the place that was always prepared for you to take. 

When Touga and Saionji found Utena in her coffin, it feels like Touga knew something Saionji didn’t. Saionji felt it too, but he wasn’t able to recognize what it was. After all, he was still a child. Touga knew about the same thing Utena learned with her parents’ death : they both had a glimpse of what the “adult world” (Akio’s world) actually looks like, shattering their juvenile knowledge of the world. 

A world where people die. A world where the weak lose. A world where the prince should protect the princess. 

Touga already had a coffin. Utena just found hers and was about to find a new one. Saionji was just finding his. 

It all makes sense regarding how obedient Touga is to Akio and why he seeks his validation, his desire to go up in the hierarchy aside. It makes sense because he is “alienated”. Touga got deprived of everything, he knows the burden of being alive and he’s learned, from his early childhood, to be compliant. 

He seems independent during the Student Council arc and a majority of the series, but eps 35 and 36 show he is not the mastermind of it all. He has a privileged position but unlike some other characters, Touga never uses his agency to try to break out of the system ─ he follows its rules and tries to reinforce his dominance. 

Why would you break out from a system serving you so well ?

“I want to become like him. I want power like his.”

Touga is alienated to the system and his only goal is to become what it expects of him. After all, why wouldn’t he ? Being a prince is the best position offered by the system. Being a prince means acquiring an absolute power. With such power, one doesn’t die and is forever out of reach and harm and pain. Who wouldn’t want such a thing ? 

The prince never saves the princess out of selflessness. He saves her because it gives him a reward in exchange. He saves her because it gives him power and control over her and ultimately, everyone else. And so, the princess becomes a "toy" wannabe princes has to win, to conquer.

Does Touga, even during what seems to be his most “sincere” moment in ep 36, ever wish to protect Utena for something else than possessing her ? When could have he learned to know and appreciate her as a person, rather than a princess ? A reward to conquer ?

When did he stop wishing he could’ve saved Utena just like Akio did ? I believe he might be genuine, yet he acts toward Utena exactly like she acts toward Anthy. He wants to save her for his own sake, regardless of her personal hopes and desires. 

It’s truly sad, though. Because all of it is nothing but a childish dream. There was never once a prince in this world. Only boring and abusive adults. 

“Are you really happy with that?”

Well, when it comes down to it, probably not. But was it ever about happiness ? Probably not either. The pursuit of power only ever leads to isolation, to a complete lack of meaning ─ after all, friendship is a fool’s thing. No one can reach what’s behind the facade. 

Saionji was able to confront Touga with his own lies and paradoxes, get as close to his real self anyone probably could. But it wasn’t enough. Saionji himself didn’t go as far as leaving the system entirely, even when it seemed he had cracked it all. Touga sort of did, too. 

As far as I’m concerned, we only heard his own, deep thoughts once.

“Kiryuu Touga, the playboy Student Council President... Is it? "Playboy" sounds old-fashioned.”

Touga weaponized himself. He weaponized his body (sex is only a tool to aim for power). He weaponized his heart (relationships only matter if you use them to your advantage. Those who believe in love and friendship are fools and will be ultimately be used to someone else’s advantage). And for what ? 

I really like the symbolism of the poppy flower in ep 35. I feel like it symbolizes Akio’s power, in a way. I’m incredibly bad when it comes to the language of flowers (so everyone is free to correct me) but please bear with me. In the East, red poppy flowers apparently symbolize romantic love and success (what it probably means for the girl confessing to Touga, as well as Akio when he “eats” it in this scene, since Touga and him are talking about Utena) but it can also symbolize “luxurious pleasures and fantastic extravagance”. In the Japanese language of flowers, red poppies can also symbolize someone “fun-loving”. I feel like both of these work with Akio and I believe that for Touga, they are a symbol of luxury and extravagance. 

Yet another girl confessed to him. Without even thinking about it, he kissed her. He will never read her confession letter, he probably didn’t even notice it. He will probably simply leave it on the floor, without a care. This pursuit of power isn’t even fulfilling to him, there’s absolutely no thought behind it. Only automatic actions, behaviors working in favor of someone else’s greater scheme. He won’t even get to actually possess Utena. 

He will never get what he truly wants. Is there even anything that he truly wants ? Saionji, maybe. In the meantime, he’s just a tool for a system. A system made up by boring adults, based on lies, illusions and unachievable dreams. 

Touga is condemned to go in cycles. He’s given everything to overcome what keeps him stuck and trapped, but it doesn’t do anything. He can only revolve around his own coffin, completing the same circle, again and again. 

He doesn’t know how to do anything else. 

It will never make anything he’s done forgivable. But at least, maybe one day, he’ll realize. Or maybe never. 

We can always create new roads, leading to worlds completely unknown to us, where everything needs to be built. Anthy and Utena are here to show the way, who deserves to follow these new roads is only up to you. 

On a purely personal standpoint... I was never really able to answer this question. 

“No. It's not over until we see it through the very end.”

[what-gs-watching]

“What good did love do, Doctor? When did it ever help?”

So I spent last week at my parent’s house finally pulling off the surprise birthday party I’d been planning for months for my mother and I was there for farrrrr too long and I ate waaaay too much and I only had six days from when I got home to get my head right and ready to start a new job after nine effing months of doing nothing. 

I’m starting on Monday and I’m super anxious about it, and everyone is posting about what’s going on with Doctor Who so obviously I decided to let Ruby and 15 turn my brain off for a bit, it’s the least they can do. Maybe that was a mistake, because woooooof y’all. I’m devastated that the season is already over. 

And as such, we def need to talk about both of these episodes at the same time. 

The Legend of Ruby Sunday / Empire of Death

Wherein, The Doctor and Ruby show up to UNIT to finally ask about the old woman they keep running into on their adventures, and immediately very purposefully fall into a trap. 

I have to say, as much as I love 15, baby boy has NOT been very observant this season. He’s caught up in having fun and showing his feelings and all of that is fantastic and beautiful but if this had been 10 or 11 they would have been mulling over this situation the entirety of the season and I probably wouldn’t feel so much like I just got whiplash. 

Like, the internet has been telling me to think about this random ass lady, instead of seeing the Doctor trying to puzzle her out in his downtime. And that’s the first time I’ve really thought to myself, ‘this is incredibly unlike the doctor.’ But we’re going to let it slide, because he’s otherwise charmed the pants off of me.

There was a lot I was definitely about in these episodes, in no particular order - 

OBVIOUSLY, the Rose / Ruby bonding. Absolutely adorable. They immediately gravitated to each other and I love that. It’s so sweet. And I’ll take ANY scrap of 14 I can get, but 15 asking ‘how’s your uncle?’ really made me greedy for more. Couldn’t my girl Rose given like, even the smallest cute little anecdote? Like ‘oh, he’s really into gardening right now…’ or something? Gimme like, even the littlest bit. I neeeed it. But fine. 

15’s outfits. I’ve loved all of the stuff they’ve put him in all season but HELLO that leather jacket and the cozy sweater he had on in the mish mash TARDIS? Gorgeous. Beautiful. I want to buy it right now.

Also, the mish mash TARDIS itself, and the little kiss 15 gives it at one point. Love all the random throwbacks inside that little thing even if I don’t know most of them because no, I never went back and watched the original seasons, so sue me. I’m pretty sure I spotted 11’s little scanner tv thing though, and I love that. I miss Matt Smith. 

And the Doctor lashing out and punching the wall and huffing and puffing and screaming and then Mel giving him a kick in the ass. I’m going to keep talking about how I love that 15 is actually okay with showing his feelings, but I do think he got too lost in them. We all been there, boo. But like, you heard that sick TARDIS sound (that’s going to haunt my dreams) and you were just like ‘oh I’ve heard that before’? BOY you are so distracted. 

Anyway, I’m vaguely aware there’s background on Sutekh that I should probably google if I want to fully understand the situation, but I’m not gonna do it. I accept that it’s the god of death and the doctor fought it once and banished it to the time vortex, but I have to say, I find the rest of the storyline a little bit weird. It hitched a ride on the TARDIS and traveled with the Doctor for basically untold amounts of time and no one ever noticed? And it’s appearance is NOT related to 14 casting that salt at the end of the universe, even though it was pretty clear that the rest of the random god appearances were? 

I guess I’m willing to accept all of that, but gang. Here’s the thing. After all of that time traveling around and watching the Doctor do what he does (and admittedly trying to sabotage him by planting harbingers? I guess? Wherever they went?) you’re still not going to kill him right off when you finally hatch your plot? You KNOW he gets out of things. You know he literally gets out of everything. You’ve watched him wiggle his way out of shit because his adversaries have given him an inch but you’re like ‘it’s fine, that won’t be me, because I REALLY need to know who this random human’s mother is?’ 

Nah. Nah nah nah. Like, maybe if you had really tried to kill him and he got out of it, I’d be like, ‘okay fine’ but that death cloud was half-assed and they beat it on like, a moped. 

If we’re going with real scary gods that have literally the power of basically everything, I’m gonna want their actions to make sense. 

I also have to admit that when the Doctor was monologuing about how the whole thing was his fault, when he said about all of the things he’s done “I thought it was fun”, I found myself thinking about how he really has been playing a game of his own devising and maybe he…shouldn’t. And it felt like maybe he thought that, too. Like, when is it gonna be enough for him? 

The point is, It’s super sweet that Ruby got to figure her shit out, they got me I cried at all of that, but the whole thing did feel a little disjointed to me. Which is fine, because now I’m sitting here like, ‘yo I need more’ but there isn’t more, not for forever, and clearly that’s how they get you. The arch wasn’t a cliff hanger really but also it kind of was and I’m unsatisfied. Maybe that’s the point. 

And I do now agree with Tumblr that the most interesting thing in all of this is how 14 and Donna reacted to the death cloud, and their reconstitution, and the realization that Rose was at UNIT during the entire thing - that’s going to occupy my brain for a really long time.

At the end of the day, eight episodes was not enough. But I’m SO  endeared to 15 and I love the direction the show is going, haters can hate all they want but Doctor Who was always weird and it was always for outcasts and it’s beautiful and stupid and silly and wonderful. Wonderful and perfectly imperfect. 

Friends, this season came at a time I really needed it. I'm thankful it helped me through my forced work hiatus, it's part of the tapestry that kept me going. And that's the good that love does. Doctor Who, I love you.

[gallus-rising]

UGGGGH FINE. Give me your best mouth washing pitch I’m intrigued

OH BOY ok i'll try my best. this is kinda rambly and all over the place. i'm trying very hard not to spoil

first off here's the game blurb

The five crew members of the Tulpar are stranded in the empty reaches of space, shrouded in perpetual sunset. God is not watching.

and here's the top review on Steam which i think captures the Vibes really well

This feels like a trolley problem but there is no lever and there is no alternate track. you are simply watching a group of people suffer

game is first person PSX psychological horror in space, and i mean some real psychological horror shit. Pony Express long haul ship Tulpar gets stranded in space after an act of sabotage. you will run out of food several months before air. no one is coming. you bonce back and forth between Jimmy, co-pilot suddenly turned leader after a devastating ship failure, and Curly, former pilot turned crispy meat man after a devastating ship failure. the psycho-sexual tension between them is radical

the reason the game is called Mouthwashing is because it's revealed early on that the ship's highly important cargo? the thing you are under absolutely no circumstances to touch? something that needs a full 5 man crew monitoring it 'round the clock for a full year?? mouthwash. tons and tons and tons of mouthwash. this is the only thing the crew has to possibly supplement their diet, which i feel like really sets the tone. from there things go from bad to worse to worse to catastrophe to worse. just. the whole domino effect of how things collapse is one of the best i've ever seen

the characters aren't bad people (mostly >.>), they're just perfectly normal dudes just trying their best. the game then goes on to show what happens when a group of perfectly normal dudes are pushed to the absolute brink. what if you were trapped in an elevator with your coworkers who you only vaguely get along with. hell is other people. but also hell is yourself and how you're treating those other people. also i can't call them out for obvious spoiler reasons but multiple instances of characters just causally dropping a line that had me like. "oh. oh shit. OOOOOHHHH SHIT!!!!!" love it when something like that happens

people smarter than me are dissecting the Imagery and Symbolism in the game like crazy holy shit

ok i think that's as much plot stuff as i can get into without major spoilers (tho since i'm Mouthwashing Posting non-stop everyone here has already seen plenty of spoilers lol, but i feel like this game has a lot of stuff that makes fuck all sense outta context) ok gameplay stuff now

for reasons i'd need an entire separate post to explain Mouthwashing is the sort of story that can only be told via a video game. there's a lot of unique things about video games as a media that people are only really starting to dig into, so if you're even a little interested in that i recommend checking out the game on that alone. the story is told non-linearly to excellent effect, and if you're looking for some good unreliable narrator?? OH BOY!!!! 👌👌 i know the term "walking simulator" is typically used derogatorily but i fucking love a good walking sim. it is really, really hard to pull off a horror walking sim imo given the genre is sorta chill by nature, so that's also a feat of it's own. you are watching people suffer, you are undergoing suffering. it is a game that feels like it actively hates you for playing it because by playing it you have let all this happen

the game is about 2-and-a-half hours, only like 13$ on Steam, and will probably go on sale for Halloween. if you wanna watch a playthru tho (like how i discovered it lol) i highly rec Vinny Vinesauce's 👌

hhng i hope this is a suitable pitch and sorry for the ramble orz

[I HOPE IT HURTS]

this game is heavy so if needed spoiler/trigger warnings for:

as graphic violence as you can get with PSX graphics, alcoholism, starvation, some proper fucked up cannibalism, suicide, murder, referenced sexual assault, scopophbia, and the general hopelessness/claustrophobia/agoraphobia/sanity slippage you would expect from a space horror. all subject are handled tastefully imo. but yeah. it's a lot. if any of that seems like it'd be too much but you're still interested def give the playthru a shot