#this stuff really messes with your brain

[nekrosmos]

AO3

Loving Simon Riley was easy. From the moment they had first met, Soap had been endeared by the man. The Halloween costume? Kind of charming. Intimidating, sure, to constantly be by someone’s side whose stare could make any recruit shit themselves, face hidden behind a patched up mask meant to remove one’s identity, separating the man from the soldier. Anyone who saw Ghost from far away assumed him to be a legend, a broken shell of a man who had gone through so much that all was left behind was the echo of what he used. He was, in some ways, but he was so much more than that. 

It was the small things that Soap quickly learned to love. The way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he told a bad joke, visible despite the black makeup. How he would turn his head before lifting his mask when they were eating together, trying to hide his face even then. How his dark eyes caught the sunrises, orange beams reflecting so perfectly in the brown hue of his irises. The horrible shirts he always wore at the gym, either with bad jokes or shitty band design on them. The way he always stood behind Soap, always watching his back, always. 

When the two of them became more than brothers in arms, it was an entirely new person that Johnny learned to love, so many more details to discover. The way Simon loved to grab Johnny from the back, his big arms wrapping themselves around his form and pulling him closer to his chest, silent, placing kisses in the back of Soap’s neck, hot breath against his skin, as if he was afraid to lose him. How he always slept with his head facing the door, his back never turned to it. The light gray hair on his temples he always sighed when spotting. How he always stared at the rest of the world like he wasn’t truly a part of it, gaze losing itself for a moment as he watched people go by their lives, only coming back to his senses when Johnny approached him. 

It was easy to love Simon Riley, but Simon Riley didn’t believe that. 

Nothing had made this more obvious than the first time he had allowed Johnny inside his apartment. A small, cheap flat in Manchester, two rooms, a bedroom, a small balcony, elderly neighbors, cracks in the walls and mold in the corners, the kind of place you would expect for him. Simon had obviously been nervous about bringing Johnny home, even if the two had been together for a while then, the entire thing being unexpected as they had found themselves more drunk than they had anticipated and in need of a place to sleep for the night.

The inside was pretty much what Soap had expected. Bare-bones. No real decorum. No pictures on the walls. Neat for the most part. 

The kitchen was small, packed with the bare minimum, the fridge full of quick meals, cans and not much more. No plants, he had tried when he was younger but kept killing them, apparently. No animals, of course, who had time to take care of them with the job they both had. There was a shelf with books in them, although most of them were coated in a thick layer of dust. No mirrors, except for the one in the bathroom, which had clearly been broken by a large fist. One toothbrush, one towel, one razor, one bottle of shampoo. 

His bedroom had been the worst offender. A single person bed in a corner of the room. “We’ll make it work” he had told him. Again, no pictures, just a few postcards up on the wall near his desk. Soap recognized a few he had mailed him when the two had been sent on different side of the world. That made him smile. 

Fitting in the bed was difficult. It already would have been complicated to fit two normal-sized people in a single person bed, but two buff guys like them was a whole other challenge. Simon kept apologizing, his tone way too close to being shameful for Johnny’s liking. They found a comfortable enough position eventually, Ghost’s back against the cold wall while he held Soap tightly in his arms, their legs intertwined as best they could. 

There was silence as soon as they went to bed, but Johnny could feel that Simon wasn’t sleeping. His breathing against the back of his neck was steady, his fingers digging into his flesh, not painfully, but purposely. It had been difficult, then, to find the right words, but Johnny eventually talked, his voice almost a whisper in the strange quiet of the night. 

“Am I the first person you ever took home?” 

He knew the answer, of course, only confirmed by a quiet “yeah” he could feel against his skin. 

Johnny wanted to ask him why, but the signs around the flat were pretty telling. Simon had never settled here, never took root. It wasn’t uncommon, for men like them, to feel at odds with their civilian lives. The man versus the soldier. Simon versus Ghost. Of course, it was different for him. Rare were the soldiers who had gone through what he had gone through. The job had taken literally everything from him. His purpose, his family, his identity. Whoever Simon had been before all of this was long gone, replaced by an echo of the man he used to be, floating through life like a ghost, never really belonging anywhere, no tether to bring him back to the living, no one to remember him. 

Loneliness was a cruel affliction. Soap couldn’t recall how many times he had spotted Ghost back at base when he should have been gone and on leave. He asked him, then, many times, what he was doing here, and every single time, Simon would shrug, making up excuses about “catching up on some paperwork while he could”. 

Now that Johnny had seen what waited for Ghost once he got back “home”, it suddenly made a lot more sense.

Gently, Soap grabbed one of Simon’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the pale skin of his knuckles and intertwining his fingers with his, before turning around, almost falling out of the bed as he did so. 

“What are you doing?” Ghost asked, the darkness not enough to hide his puzzled expression. 

“Turn around, I want to hold ya.” 

A snort escaped Simon’s lips, almost mocking, as if he didn’t believe him. Well, he probably didn’t, and so Johnny insisted. 

“What? Don’t think I can spoon ya?” 

“The fuck you want to do this for, Johnny?” 

“Do I need a fucking reason? Jesus Christ, just turn around and let me hold you.” 

After another second of hesitation, Simon relented, turning around, face facing the wall as Johnny laid back down, his arms going around his bigger shape and getting as close to him as possible. Half of his ass was hanging from the bed but it was manageable, especially after Simon grabbed one of his arm, Johnny’s hand coming to rest on top of his heart. 

It was his turn to be able to kiss the back of Simon’s neck, lips gently meeting his cold skin while his free hands played with his hair, fingers tenderly brushing them as he felt his partner slowly relax in his arms. 

It was then that Johnny decided to offer Simon to come live with him. He would ask him, the next day, while the two would be preparing breakfast. He wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, just a casual mention. His flat was big enough for the both of them, Simon had been there already and liked the place, Johnny had a king-size bed, and a decorum that didn’t remind him of a prison cell. Hopefully, Simon would say yes, but if he didn’t, he would understand. Recovery was a slow process, and no matter what Simon decided, he would stick by his side, finding more ways every day to love the man he had fallen for. 

[xamaxenta]

Sabo shipped off to work on an oil rig, the ? Managing director? quartermaster?

Idk what jobs there are on oil rigs but whoever is in charge, a rough sea dog kindly in that isolated sort of way kind of man named Marco takes him in and tells him the rig shapes you, best, leave what it lures you alone

Which is fine, sabos no stranger to seeing beyond what one is supposed to but on the rig he hears voices and thats fine too because its not uncommon out at sea

Its also not uncommon to see nothing at all durinf the dark pitch black nights

What is uncommon is to see his husband sitting on the railings of the rusty salt eroded rig, radiant and with a smile that lances through his ribs because he misses him so much

Further uncommon is Ace died one summer that feels so fresh it couldve been yesterday, an aching wound from five years past

Sabo ran to the sea to escape him, Ace, fraught with the concept that sabo may forget him, chases after him

Cosmic psychological horror haunting by your deceased lover and seeking the comfort in the arms of the only other soul on deck— marco

Perhaps hes fucking crazy, Marco doesnt feel real either

[heybaetae]

hi

[amokslime]

About the whole ADHD "finding a way to motivate yourself without using the stress of impending deadlines" thing:

I hate to say it, but learning to be nicer to myself changed a lot of that for me. I really truly hate to say it. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you gotta find a way to be nicer to yourself inside your own head, in whatever way works for you. I know it sucks so bad to hear.

The other thing is, if my brain is really refusing to tackle a task, often times the main thing I'm feeling is confused and understimulated. Which leads to me sitting there with the jeopardy theme song playing in my head, and then I unconsciously gravitate towards something that's more stimulating and therefore easier to wrap my head around. So overstimulating myself in some sensory way helps me be less confused about what I needed to do. Everybody's brain is different, though.

And uhh the other thing that helped is concerta, and listening to my body, and working on not being so ashamed when I failed. Which means you will probably have to fail a little bit unfortunately

[pezpenser205]

the main reason i know im not femme in the slightest is bc i cant comprehend why anyone would Ever want to be feminine. i can understand neutral leaning fem, but the idea that people are born wanting to be feminine is appalling to me personally because femininity always felt like imprisonment and torture. it was and still is a restraint. a training weight i was forced to bear. i cant fully empathize or understand anyone who wants to be more feminine because i have never and will never want to be more feminine out of anything other than pressure or insecurity. im most comfortable being gender neutral, hairy and disgusting in old gym shorts and stained tshirts no matter how much insecurity it causes me. i dont care. im never dressing up all pretty for anyone elses benefit ever again. and i assume this is how people who want to be feminine feel about masculinity to some extent. if thats the case im super glad we could trade because holy moly

[no1ryomafan]

Every fucking time I think my stupid ass hyper fixation for SPECIFICALLY getter robo Armageddon is gone it reignited at 2 fucking am when I’m supposed to be asleep and I dm my moot who has a different timezone then me about it cause he started watching and I’m telling him all the stupid shit I know and ohhhhh my god it never fucking ENDS

[seaofreverie]

Wanted to start working on projects for my part-time school this weekend but instead all I have the energy to do is lay in bed and play mario kart or lay in bed and listen to music

[starlitangels]

Somebody help? Just a lil bit? I got smacked with a bad headache several hours ago and it made the Cognitive Distortions™ rear their stupid ugly heads

[masked-and-doomed]

Augh I am not knowledgeable enough on this and I do not have the energy to see more of it but I am still thinking of it <- the morality and ethics of fiction and things like that and also how much of the author's views are affecting it

Quick example here: light from DN, most people tend to assume he's misogynistic, because the author unintentionally wrote his views onto Light's character. Of course, it is in a way where it does seem to be fair to have that negative trait onto Light, but in his other works that sexism is toned a bit higher and clearer to see.

So, that asks the question of many other works of art. At what point is it part the story, the themes, the character, and at what point is it the creator of their work, intentionally or unintentionally having their views baked into it.

Of course, I feel, it is maybe inevitable some of one's thoughts on matters are worked into their craft. It is your art, it will have your touch on it, whether you see it or not.

Wauhh there's so much to this. I am. Ough.

This of course eventually goes into rougher territory, does this person actually think this [horrible action] is acceptable, or justifiable? Or should we give the benefit of the doubt that it's meant to be in the realm of fiction that was meant for pondering, evoke emotions and connections to these characters.

What is romanticising/glorifying, truly? Though I suspect it may come to a 'case by case' sort of thing.

What is simply one's fantasies, of which, may be illegal to do so in real life, but they are fully aware of such. They still wish to engage in pleasure, though within the realm of fiction rather than reality so they do not actually harm others.

[ninjaaa-go]

do you ever just

[wildwolf-fandoms]

Negative Tumblr/RPC/personal trauma rant + screenshots of my og tags because I was too chicken shit to post them on my rp account

Also tw for bullying mention too

Bro I sometimes envy people with common triggers because many people usually don't have any problem tagging guns and racism and stuff.

And here I am being like "umm, here is a random ass word that I associate with my bullies, a random ass combination of `things` that no one ever thought of bringing up, and a random ass body part that has multiple different meanings and only effective when it's a noun" 😭No way in fucking hell i can expect people to tag them or "avoid talking about them when i'm around them" or whatever.

Also og tags goes brr:

[whateveriwant]

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

[gojosprettyprincess]

Jujutsu Kaisen Men + How they'd moan w/audios.

Tw - dirty talk, assplay in Suguru's, daddy kink in Nanami's, (Got a bit carried away in the geto one haha) also not proofread cause I got tired.

A/n this was requested so tysm to the person that requested it but a part of it is kinda a repost because I've already done something similar before but I hope you guys like it! Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Nanami

Gojo Satoru

This is how Gojo sounds when he's close. (Ik this because he fucked me before so you can trust me on this)

He's very loud when he fucks you and he'd also whisper a lot of nasty shit to your ears while he's rutting his hips inside you, fucking you deeper into the bed while he has your legs over his shoulders, hissing and groaning at the way your tight cunt sucks him in so well, while your sinking your freshly manicured nails that he paid for into his back, decorating it with angry red marks and when he's close he'd be panting and breathing heavily on top of you, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto you from how much he's been fucking you.

"Fuckfuckfuck gonna fill you up so good baby, m'gonna stuff you so full of my cum, bet you'll like that yeah?".

Geto Suguru

This is how Suguru sounds while you're riding him in cowgirl position, he has a clear view of the way his cock slides into your soaked cunt every time you bounced on it, he just can't take his eyes off of it, the way your cunt would swallow his cock in and the way your ass jiggles every time you moved your hips, it was so hot. One thing that really caught his eye though was the way your asshole looked so neglected and desperate to be filled, he thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try something.

he spat on his right thumb, making sure to gets his spit all over it to use as lube before circling it around your hole, spreading his spit all around it then sinking his thumb slowly into the tight rim. He hisses as he felt how tight your ass was, clammed around his finger. He noticed how you started slowing down, and how your moans got so much louder, he lands a sharp slap on your ass. "Fuckkk sweetheart k-keep going, Fuck yeah, keep bouncing on my cock, yesss that's it, don't worry princess I'll make you feel s'good". He groans, feeling your cunt fluttering and cleaching around his cock.

He starts thumbing your ass, fucking his finger in and out of you matching your rhythm. "Holy fuck need you to cum, Be a good girl and cum f'me yeah?". He hisses, feeling you thrusting your hips faster and faster onto him, your brain gets all fuzzy and blank it was too much, both of your holes were getting stuffed and penetrated. You start feeling yourself getting closer and closer as you bounced yourself on top of him. "F-fuck sugu gonna cum, M'gonna cum!" you cried out. "Go ahead, cream on my cock baby you can do it fuckk", and that's all you needed to hear before you came undone, creaming all over his cock, rings of your nut appearing at the base of his cock, his thumb still buried in your ass to the hilt. He lets out a loud groan, looking at how your creamy cunt covered in cum. "Good fucking girl, see the mess you made on my cock baby?".

Toji Fushiguro

This is how he sounds when he's close, he doesn't really make that much noise while he's fucking you, maybe you'd earn a few groans and grunts once in a while because of your cunt but most of the time it's just dirty talk.

But when he's close, he gets so much louder and faster, he picks up his pace, hammering into you harder from behind while your face is buried into the pillow beneath you and landing harsh slaps onto the soft flesh of your ass while looking down to watch it jiggle everytime he thrust his hips against you. the sound of his cum filled balls that's waiting to be emptied inside your little cunny, slapping against your clit filling the room with each thrust along with your muffled moans. Your cunt was clamping around him like crazy because one thing about Toji, he always fucks you so good every damn time.

"Holy fucking shit, tight little cunt milking my cock so well, you gonna give me another kid baby or what?".

Choso Kamo

This is how he'd moan while you're on your knees sucking his cock and he's getting close; he'd be whimpering and moaning loudly while saying stuff like "pleasepleaseplease m'so close don't stop please" with tears prickling from his eyes while he's looking down at you. He begs you alot and he's also really sensitive so that makes him moan and whimper even more.

Nanami Kento

This is how he sounds when he's ramming his cock up into your poor messy cunny in his work office, purposely molding your tight hole into the shape of his thick girth as his large beefy hands gripping onto the back your thighs to hold your legs up into a full nelson-type positon but the difference is that he's sitting down and your back is leaning against his board chest.

His thrusts was hard and fast as he continues feeding your greedy tight cunt with his fat cock, loud pants and groans escaping his lips at the way your cunt tightens around his cock while he stretches you out. "Hah- oh fuckk such a good little slut, taking daddy's cock so well, s'good f'me baby". His deep and husky voice made you throbbing around his cock while he ruins you.

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

[soyoursoulisgreen]

5, 11, and 30 for the artist ask meme!

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

It's increased over time! Well, actually, it's been a bell curve, kind of. Maybe more like a roller coaster lol. Obviously before I was online I wasn't sharing any of the stuff I drew; I drew for about seven years before posting anything - casually, for my own entertainment - and then for a while I was posting almost everything in some form or another; if I didn't post the original doodle, it was because I cleaned it digitally! But I got pretty burnt out on that haha - it does still come and go in cycles lol. Nowadays I probably keep back about 30% of what I draw? Although it can be hard to quantify - if you upload to an audience of zero, is it actually online? Haha ♪ Or an audience of one! Just because it's shared using the internet as a middle man, does that count as "posting"? :0 I don't know! I think it's an interesting question tho!

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what

Yes! It really depends on what I'm drawing; my go-tos are always Reddit story readings since I don't have to think too hard about picking one, they last a while, and they keep my auditory brain occupied while my hands and eyes are busy. For a couple days of Requestober, especially the Portal/Stanley Parable days but also the song prompt, I was listening to themed stuff - GLaDOS lines, Narrator lines, the aforementioned song haha. I hate having to stop to pick the next thing! It makes editing my footage harder and throws off my flow :P

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

A lot of my Law Abiding Citizen stuff probably - LAC is such a good series!! I wish more people would see it/were still into it. We're few, and I was late to party, but my love still burns! If I had to pick just one thing tho, I think it'd have to go to one of my Just Desserts comics - I cried while drawing it initially, and I still think Charm's transition from her smiling-crying face to her angry-crying face is so well done ♥

[solxamber]

"Requests are open-"

The sound of my feet frantically hitting the floor can be heard from a great distance away—

I've been following for a few months & all your posts make me giggle or smile, my coworkers probably think I'm crazy at this point, lmao.

For the request!! I was hoping to see if you could write the Overblot boys' (tho if possible, subbing Trey in for Riddle) reaction to finding out the reader— who is known for being touch-averse— finds him to be a comfort person & noticing that they get really touchy around him as a means for comfort. I had it in mind as being romantic, but pre-feelings realized cuz I live for the yearning & squirmy crush phase stuff, it's so sweet.

All of them are touch-starved, you can't tell me otherwise.

— 🐈‍⬛ ♡

Ahh I'm so glad you like my work omg <3 I'm so glad they made you smile 🫶🫶

I've also kept Riddle and added in Trey, I hope that's fine!

Overblot Gang + Trey Being your Comfort Person

Riddle Rosehearts

When you unexpectedly reach out and grab Riddle’s sleeve during a quiet walk through Heartslabyul’s rose garden, he stiffens like you’ve hit him with a stun spell. His gaze flicks from your hand to your face, his cheeks blooming a crimson that rivals the roses around him.

At first, he assumes it’s accidental, but when your fingers remain firmly gripping his arm as if seeking reassurance, his brain short-circuits.

You’re known for keeping your distance from others, so this gentle touch feels monumental to him. Later, when he learns that you see him as a comfort, his heart aches in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying. They trust me like that? he thinks, and suddenly every shared moment feels heavier with meaning.

The next time you casually rest your hand on his shoulder during a meeting, Riddle doesn’t shy away. Instead, he adjusts his posture ever so slightly, allowing your touch to linger. His ears burn as he stumbles over his words, but deep down, he’s elated.

He’s never been someone’s safe haven before, and he’ll do everything in his power to protect that bond, even as his stomach flips at every accidental brush of your hand.

Trey Clover

Trey’s observant nature makes it impossible for him to miss the way you’ve grown more touchy around him. At first, it’s subtle—the occasional tug on his sleeve or a gentle nudge when he’s teasing you—but when you lean against his arm one evening after a long day, his mind comes to a screeching halt.

He keeps his composure, of course, because it’s Trey. But inside? He’s a mess of confusion and delight.

The realization hits him when you unconsciously cling to him during a particularly chaotic Scarabia dinner. Others are bustling around, and you seek him out, your fingers brushing his wrist as if grounding yourself. He hides his smile behind a sip of water, warmth spreading in his chest.

Trey wonders why you feel so at ease with him when you’re so cautious around others. But when you nervously explain one day that he makes you feel safe, his heart swells.

“That’s a lot of trust to put in me,” he teases gently, though he’s secretly over the moon. When you start leaning against his shoulder more often, Trey welcomes it with a soft chuckle, letting his hand brush yours in quiet reassurance.

Leona Kingscholar

The first time you plop yourself beside Leona on one of the lounge’s sprawling couches, sitting far closer than you normally do, he barely raises an eyebrow. But when your shoulder brushes against his, and you don’t immediately move away like everyone else seems to around him, his ear flicks in surprise. Leona’s no stranger to physical contact—mostly unwelcome—but this? This is new.

It doesn’t take long for him to realize you’re touch-averse with everyone else. When you casually rest your head against his arm after a particularly exhausting day, Leona pauses mid-yawn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks down at you. He doesn’t say anything at first, just observes the way your usually guarded self seems to relax around him.

“You got a habit of using me as your personal pillow, herbivore?” he finally drawls, smirking lazily to hide the strange warmth blooming in his chest.

When you shrug and mutter something about him being comfortable, Leona pretends to scoff, but the slight twitch of his tail gives him away. He’s never been anyone’s comfort before, and while he doesn’t admit it, the thought fills him with a quiet pride.

From then on, he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he adjusts himself so you can lean against him more comfortably, his tail wrapping loosely around your ankle like it has a mind of its own.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul nearly drops the pen he’s holding the first time you rest your hand lightly on his arm. He freezes in his seat at the Mostro Lounge, blinking rapidly as if trying to process what just happened. You’re careful about personal space—he’s noticed that much—so this sudden display of trust leaves him flustered beyond belief.

“Ah, are you feeling alright?” he stammers, his face quickly turning pink.

You wave off his concern, but the touch lingers. Azul spends the rest of the day overanalyzing the moment. What does it mean? Do they… no, surely not.

It happens again the next time you visit the lounge. You sit closer than usual, your knees brushing his under the table as you casually chat.

Azul tries to focus on the conversation, but his brain is fixated on the way you seem so comfortable around him. When he learns that you find him comforting, Azul’s heart skips a beat.

He tries to play it cool, but the truth is, he’s thrilled. You trust him, and that trust feels far more valuable than any deal he’s ever made. The next time you reach out, Azul doesn’t flinch. Instead, he lets your fingers linger on his sleeve, savoring the quiet warmth of your touch.

Jamil Viper

Jamil is used to people keeping their distance, intentionally or otherwise. His sharp gaze and composed demeanor tend to put others on edge. That’s why, the first time you rest a hand on his shoulder during one of his endless tasks for Scarabia, he’s so stunned that he almost drops the tray he’s carrying.

He glances at you, his eyes searching for an explanation, but you look completely at ease. He doesn’t say anything then, not wanting to scare you off, but his heart races. You—someone who shies away from physical contact—trust him enough to reach out like this?

Later, when you lean against him as he writes up another set of schedules, Jamil tentatively shifts to give you more room. “You alright?” he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual.

You hum in response, your cheek brushing his shoulder as you explain, “You just make me feel at ease.”

Jamil stiffens, his breath catching in his throat. No one has ever said that to him before, not with such sincerity. A faint blush dusts his cheeks as he tries to play it cool, though his mind is whirling. For the first time, he feels like someone sees beyond the role he’s forced to play.

From then on, he doesn’t mind when you’re touchy around him. If anything, he finds himself leaning into your presence, your comfort becoming his safe haven as well.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil is accustomed to people admiring him from afar, hesitant to step too close. That’s why your sudden physical closeness catches him off guard. The first time you link arms with him during a walk, his eyes widen slightly, but he quickly composes himself, tilting his head to glance at you.

“Getting bold, aren’t we?” he teases, his tone light, though his heart skips a beat.

You roll your eyes but don’t let go, and Vil notices the way your shoulders relax beside him. It’s subtle, but the realization dawns on him: you trust him enough to seek comfort in his presence. The thought fills him with a warmth he doesn’t often let himself indulge in.

Later, when you rest your head on his shoulder during a quiet moment in the Pomefiore common room, Vil sets down his script, his gaze softening. “You’ve been awfully touchy lately,” he remarks, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You meet his eyes, your expression open and unguarded. “That’s because you’re comforting,” you say simply, and Vil’s breath catches.

For a moment, he’s silent, his mind racing. He knows he can be demanding and difficult, yet here you are, finding solace in him. Gently, he rests a hand over yours, his grip firm yet tender. “Just don’t expect me to always be this lenient,” he says, though the slight tremor in his voice betrays how deeply your words have affected him.

Idia Shroud

Idia nearly has a heart attack the first time you casually lean against his shoulder during a gaming session. He goes completely still, his hair lighting up like a neon sign as his mind races. What do I do? Do I move? Is this a test? Oh, no, what if I’m sweating?!

When you don’t move away, he risks a glance at you. You’re focused on the screen, completely unbothered, and Idia feels like his circuits are going to fry.

It happens again a few days later when you sit closer than usual, your knee brushing against his. Idia freezes, trying to figure out if you’ve noticed. By the third time, when you casually rest your head on his shoulder, he can’t take it anymore.

“Uh, y-you okay?” he stammers, his voice cracking as he sneaks a glance at you.

You smile softly, your tone light. “Yeah. You’re just… comfortable.”

Idia’s brain short-circuits. Comfortable? Me? His insecurities rear their ugly heads, whispering that you’ve made a mistake, that surely someone else would be better. But when you stay by his side, leaning into him like he’s your anchor, those voices quiet.

He hesitates before awkwardly patting your hand, his touch hesitant but earnest. For the first time, he allows himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you mean it.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is delighted yet utterly confused the first time you rest your hand lightly on his arm during a quiet evening stroll. Physical affection is rare for him—he’s so often regarded with fear or reverence—but you seem unbothered by his stature, your touch grounding and sincere.

The next time, it’s even more unexpected. You loop your arm through his as you walk through the woods near Ramshackle, leaning slightly into him. Malleus’s breath hitches, his heart racing. He doesn’t want to scare you away, so he says nothing, though his tail twitches with restrained excitement.

When you rest your head against his shoulder as he tells you about his day, he finally dares to ask, “Child of man, is there a reason you’ve been so… affectionate as of late?”

You glance up at him, your eyes warm. “You’re comforting,” you say simply, and Malleus feels the ground shift beneath his feet.

For someone who has been lonely for so long, your words are a balm to his soul. He places a hand over yours, his touch gentle yet possessive. “If I bring you comfort, then I consider myself fortunate,” he says softly, though his heart feels like it’s about to burst.

From then on, Malleus treasures every touch you offer, each one a reminder that he is no longer alone.

Masterlist