#welcome to todays

[razzydasombralover]

When I was able to be Ray. Didn't even have her for a month...

Rip my og Ray suit. She'll forever be missed 🥺💔

[hajimedics]

I'M NOT YOUR DOLL AND I'LL THINK FOR MYSELF AND I'LL LIVE FOR MYSELF

[aemoriae]

happy update day! 💐🏠

[rowandekarios]

gale dekarios + text posts that make me think of him <3

[tagerrkix]

rage.

[showaboutdeath]

hey guys, "cringe culture is dead" means letting proshippers do whatever they want with fiction, hope this helps 👍

[frillsand]

[siren-of-agony]

Answers to "it hurts"

I know (apologetically)

I know (condescendingly)

It's supposed to

Good

I'm sorry

It'll be over soon

Stop whining

And it'll get worse if you don't *insert threat*

Well it wouldn't have to if you didn't *insert mistake*

You're supposed to say 'thank you'

I love hearing you say that

This is nothing, I'll show you actual pain

Get used to it

You'll get used to it

Stop lying

At least you still feel it

Shut up

Why don't you beg me to stop, then?

Can't be that bad if you're still talking

I don't care

Did I ask?

It's the only way you'll learn

You can take it

Answers to "please stop"

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Legit almost happened at work yesterday, why mouth form word not when want to but do when want not

[misojohnist]

finally came up with a good poll idea so, for posterity:

[crumblestew]

DAMN STRAIGHT KIDDO

But FR the amount of disrespect I am seeing for Cecil is despicable that man made me feel so safe in my own queerness no matter how I was feeling and for that I love him eternally

[d0not-disturb]

Mumbo live reaction after scar kills his boyfriend best friend

[cozylittleartblog]

cringe is dead because rouxls is carrying the weight of it all madoka style

[pitske]

queer people?

[tiddygame]

Simon started his sleeve well before he became Ghost.

It started when Joseph was about 3 1/2 and Simon got a nasty scar on his arm that made the poor kid upset every time he saw it. Joseph knew that it didn’t still hurt, but for him it was a reminder that is uncle was always in danger. It scared the kid to think about what caused it, even though Simon assured him that he was okay.

So after a brief discussion with Beth and Tommy, he figured he’d get a tattoo to cover it up. A sleeve would be expensive, but if it meant Joseph didn’t cry every time he saw the scar on his uncle's arm, it would be worth it.

It took some looking around for an artist that was willing to tattoo scar tissue and one that he trusted, but it wasn’t long before he was scheduling a consult.

Then he realized he had no fucking idea what he wanted to get tattooed.

He felt like getting a flaming skull or half naked lady permanently etched into his skin would defeat the purpose and he most certainly was not going to get something in a language he didn’t speak.

His mom jokingly suggested that he could get a floral sleeve and cover his arm in flowers.

And, well, it was close enough to a dare that he couldn’t turn it down so a few weeks later, he’s got his appointment set up to turn his arm into a garden.

He has quite a few types of flowers in there (some that his mom loves, some that Beth and Tommy had at their wedding, etc. etc.) with vines and leaves to fill in the gaps

The appointments are quite far apart with his deployment, Simon didn’t want to deal with a healing tattoo in the field. They started at the scar, covering it up and then expanding from there.

Joseph loves the flowers.

He was always so excited when Simon let him fill them in like his arm was a coloring book, even if he still struggled to stay in the lines.

He used to cry every time Simon left and it would break his heart, but now Joseph demanded that his uncle return as fast as he could so he could go back to coloring his arm and talking about sharks.

Joseph loved the flowers.

It took a while for him to go back.

There was no reason to, not anymore. He had more scars, but there wasn’t anyone he had to hide them from.

The tattoo was left unfinished for a long time, only part of his forearm was done.

Ghost didn’t care. He wore long sleeves even in weather warm enough to cause heatstroke; he couldn’t look at it.

When he did, he didn’t see an unfinished tattoo, he saw his nephew. Saw him looking up at his uncle with big brown eyes, begging Simon to carry him. Saw him sleeping under the Christmas tree.

Eventually he returned. He requested a slight change to the design and showed the artist a photo of four headstones and the bouquets that accompanied them

(There was a fifth, partially out of frame and cut off, vase empty)

The artist nodded and got to work.

In the new sketch, a few new flowers were added, but the first thing Ghost noticed were the four little garter snakes that had been weaved through the petals.

Ghost nodded and that was that.

Every now and then a rookie would see it and start to laugh, but when they remembered the reputation of the man they were laughing at, it was quickly cut off with hasty (and futile) apologies. (They were still going to end up running laps until they vomited up their lungs.)

It was rare that he was exposed enough for people to see the tattoo and from a distance, it just looked like a simple sleeve. It wasn’t long before his little garden became a lesser known rumor that followed him around and joined the other whispers.

Ghost didn’t care. He didn’t get the tattoo for himself or any prying eyes. From the moment he booked the consultation to leaving the parlor with his sleeve complete, it was all for Joseph.

The rookies could spread whatever rumors they want, his nephew would have loved it and that’s all he wanted.

The first time Soap got a proper look, he just stared at it for a while before going off on a story about when he was little and picked up a snake thinking it was a stick.

From anyone else, it would have felt like that were trying to change the subject so they didn’t have to acknowledge that The Ghost had such a “feminine” tattoo.

From Soap, it was comforting in an odd way. It was obvious that Soap wanted a better look at it, but he never pushed Ghost. Just like the mask, Soap was patient.

Later down the line, it would morph into quiet nights with Johnny tracing the lines and trying to identify each type of flower. He’d look to Simon for any clues but would complain that Simon always looked too love-struck for his facial expression to give any hints on if he was getting close.

Simon didn’t deny these claims but still refused to offer any help.

And even longer after that, Johnny would shakily color in the petals as he tries to regain his fine motor skills.

The markers would often slip out his hands and the shakiness meant he couldn’t stay within the lines, but the fact that he was there at a all, debating which pink to use on the peonies and getting frustrated with himself when he couldn’t get the cap back on, was enough of a miracle that Simon could barely keep himself together as his sleeve regained its color for the first time in years.

When Johnny was done, Simon hugged him with one arm, holding the tatted one up and away so that the new ink wouldn’t smudge.

Eventually, Simon would tell the story of why he got the tattoo, even if Johnny already had a pretty good guess based on the wistful look Simon had when talking about it. He would tell him which ones his mom loved, which ones had been at Beth and Tommy’s wedding, and which ones were just the artist adding some to make it more cohesive.

But for now, they would hold onto each other tightly, neither of them willing to separate. Maybe for some, crying over a box of sharpies wasn’t a happy ending, but Simon didn’t care. He had Johnny in his arms and that was all he could ask for.