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#hope you all sleep well
uraandri · 2 months
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anyway i forgot to report i went home with my friends for slava, ate so much smoked carp and beans, shut down two gender related arguments, got beer drunk, went on three walks, and most importantly, i made all my friends really really happy
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lylahammar · 1 day
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IT'S FALIGON DAY BABYYYYYY I'VE BEEN DREAMING OF THIS DAY SINCE 2018 WE'RE POPPIN MASSIVE BOTTLES 🥳🎉🐉🍾🍻🔥
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pupcha · 4 months
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hum!Welcome Home sketches!!!
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For some reason lately I've started thinking about beta!Wally and ordinary Wally.... I make headcannons and think about the difference between these two, even though they have the same appearance 🤨🤨🤨🥄 (my first attempts to draw a beta!Wally. two versions, because I'm undecided)
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AND THEN HOWDY, BECAUSE I ADORE HIM..... YEAH (I'm still thinking about what I want him to look like in my artstyle—)
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redraw (You are what you eat, they said. But I don't remember eating such a handsome man. Thanks to @//eechytooru for the idea :]]
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I dunno how to comment on this, so just keep more sketches ☠️
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starsonmarsy · 2 years
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If you need to go to bed soon
Then I want you to rise as soon as you need to
Make sure that you’re taking care of your body and mind
DO NOT stay up too late, pretty boy
👾
mhm ill take care of myself!!
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yoonstudios · 1 year
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the prettiest smile on earth. | 🍊 | for → @sopekooks ↳ suchwita episodes #1 and #2
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osamusriceballs · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 11 <3
Tsukishima x sensory deprivation
Warnings: NSFW, fem reader
Words: ~ 1,1 k
Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day
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"Come on, just let me take off the blindfold."
You sigh and wiggle your wrists in his grasp, only for him to snicker amusedly. "I feel like you don't fully understand the concept of sensory deprivation. The blindfold is essential for this." You can hear him click his tongue at the end of the words, feigning annoyance while he answers. "I know, but isn't it enough that you're chaining my hands to the bed?" As a cue, he wraps the silky tie around your wrists, tight, but far from painful, expertly tying the knot around your hands.
"I don't think so." He squeezes your cheeks, and you try to protest but the words come out as nonsense. "Just be patient for me. Can you do that?" You feel him shift his weight on the bed, his lips now at the shell of your ear when he whispers the words. A shiver runs down your spine and you quickly nod- maybe a bit too eager because he is quick to release a mocking snort.
You hold your breath when you feel his hands on your body, his thumbs rubbing the material of your blouse above your collarbones. Goosebumps form on your skin, his touch warm when his knuckles brush against the swell of your breast as he starts to unbutton the fabric. His hands roam around your stomach, to the cage of your ribs, just barely grazing along the fabric of your bra as soon as he has finished unbuttoning your blouse. Anticipation rushes through you, your body ever so sensitive to all of his touches while you tried to predict where he is going to touch you next. No words are exchanged when you feel him pulling back, leaving the bed for good.
"Kei?" you ask hesitantly, hearing him shuffle around and arranging some things. "Hmm? You good there?"
"Yes- but come back, Kei. Don't make me wait." You know that you sound desperate, but you can stop replaying different scenarios in your mind when you're tied to the bed like this. He clearly enjoys seeing you go crazy with anticipation. A few more moments of him arranging and rearranging stuff that feel like an eternity to you while you can't see, and you feel his weight dipping down the mattress again.
He's close.
You can't see him, but you can feel him. Feel his presence right next to you, his even and deep breaths, his smell- all of your other senses seem to tell you that he's close. Your body jolts when you suddenly feel his breath on your neck, softly breathing against your skin. "You look so pretty like this." A ragged breath escapes your lips at his words, the sudden softness in his tone adding to the intimacy of the moment.
A sudden cold sensation on your bare stomach makes you squirm. You hadn't noticed that his hands have been busied with something else, and when he presses it harder against you, you whine, feeling the cold wetness drip down to your navel. It lingers a few more moments on your skin, causing you to gasp at the freezing sensation, goosebumps forming on your skin already. You hear an almost metallic sound when the coolness disappears and he puts something away.
"Ok. Tell me what that was." His voice sounds teasing, a smirk adorning his lips for sure. "An ice cube," you reply, trying to sound neutral and put together. "Hmm, really good. I think you deserve a little reward for getting this one right." His lips travel down your collarbones, softly sucking and nibbling on your skin, causing your head to fall back and your toes to curl. His fingers hook into the cups of your bra and pull the fabric down, just enough to free your tits. His tongue softly glides over one of your hard buds, swirling and sucking just enough to make you clench your legs. He pulls back way too soon, your other nub aching for attention too. "Can you guess what's this too?" A soft and light sensation meets your neck, moving along your jaw and down your throat.
You wiggle even more in the ties when the tickling sensation doesn't stop, the soft caress going down to your collarbones, sending shivers down your spine when you can't anticipate where he'd touch you next. "And?" He sounds smug at this point, clearly satisfied when he sees how much you squirm.
"A feather." You sound breathless for sure, but it's simply the effect of the feather now tracing along your exposed breast and moving down your stomach. "You're so good at this, darling."
You ball your hands into fists when he brings his lips to your chest again, replacing the feather with his lips and giving your nipple a soft bite. "Kei-" the sensation so unexpected to you that you moan his name, the sound echoing through the room in a way that makes you burn in embarrassment. "Hmm, what is it?" he answers with his lips still attached to your skin, his voice barely a whisper in the room. "Feels good." Your head is thrown back into the pillows, your back arching your chest into his mouth.
"I'm sure it does." He pulls back, much to your disdain. "Are you ready for the next one?" Tsukishma moves further down, your body jolting when his hands open the button of your pants, slowly pulling them down your legs. You shiver when you're basically lying in front of him in your underwear, a hot wave of need rushing through your body when he hooks his fingers in the hem of your panties. Heat rises to your cheeks when he removes your panties as well, not saying anything, instead, you're only met with nerve-wrecking silence.
"Kei? What are you-" a surprised moan leaves your lips when you feel a soft sensation between your legs- his lips without a doubt, pressing kisses to your already wet folds. Your muscles tense and you involuntarily try to reach for his head, only to be restricted by the tie. His tongue licks along your folds, his nose brushing against your clit, and he has you moaning his name with these few touches already already. The wet noises of his kisses fill the room, your breaths uneven when he pushes his tongue unexpectedly in your entrance. "Oh god- Kei- so good-" you whine when he picks up his pace, licking inside of you with no mercy until he has your thighs clenching around his head. "Yeah? What feels good`? Tell me, darling. Can you guess?"
"Your tongue-" you whine when he rewards you with extra attention to your clit, sucking on the sensitive nub and toying with it with his tongue. Your body is burning from his touches already, eager for more, eager for him to fuck you like this-
"You're so good at this." He presses one last kiss to your pussy, and you feel his weight shifting on the mattress, knowing exactly what he will do next when you hear him fumble with his belt.
"I think you deserve another reward."
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We're only at the begining of this one way dream🎵
Sort of inspired by @tornado1992's post from a while back.
Figured these two needed some comfort in between, uh, all that torment they're going through recently. Tails had a nightmare and Sonic can't sleep, so he busted out the good ol' guitar to put a smile on his brother's grumpy face.
Happy Wednesday y'all :]
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wackachewbacca · 9 months
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A gentle reminder for all critters
Everyone and I mean every single person in the group Vox Machina is QUEER. No one is straight!
Vax’ildan is practically the poster child for bisexual disaster for this whole party. He’s flirted with: Gilmore, Percy, both of the Briarwoods in the incident that earned him the said title bisexual disaster, and Keyleth who became his partner.
Vex’ahlia is probably also bisexual based on encounters with Keyleth and possibly also Zahra.
Keyleth is demi and possibly also bisexual/pansexual based on her encounters with Vex’ahlia.
Percy is bisexual/pansexual. He’s been kissed by both Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan, and been flirted with by Taryon Darrington which he didn’t mind and the two of them became friends afterwards.
Scanlan is pansexual. He’s been with multiple genders according to campaign and the show. He also flirts with Percy at one point under the effects of a charm effect which could only happen if you were attracted to the gender of the person.
Pike is bisexual/pansexual. According to campaign, she has spent time with women.
Grog probably also falls somewhere under demiromantic or possibly aromantic. He’s not really into romance altogether, but he enjoys sex with people of the opposite gender from him.
Taryon is gay. He has had a prior relationship to a man and confessed to being in love with Percy. He does not care for romantic or sexual relationships with women.
I know it’s been some time since we’ve seen them all during their romantic relationships but they are all queer. And just because most of them ended up in relationships with people of the opposite gender from them does not make them being queer less valid. They are in queer relationships and denying it and saying they’re straight is erasure of the identities each member belongs to.
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ladyswillmart · 7 months
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Some other cuties I got to see this migration season include this (I THINK) Tennessee Warbler.
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IIRC this same species stumped me last year. 🤔 Maybe it's even the exact same bird? LOL
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This cute Northern Parula showed up at the same time! And I also got to watch a Blackburnian Warbler (female or juvenile male) enjoying the fountain:
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Here is a Swainson's thrush, notable for its distinct facial markings!
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And last but not least, my mom has been helping the Whistle Pig (who lives under the shed) fatten up for winter hibernation!
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"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#cw blood#something something cracking open a boy w the cold ones#IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES I MISSED I SWWWEAR TO JEBEDIAH. IF I STARE AT THIS ANYMORE IM GONNA DIE IT NEEDS TO BE DONE#ALSO RRRAAAHAHHHGHGH CAN I JUST TAKEA SECOND TO SCREEAAMM ABT HOW MUCH I LOVE SODA AND EMIZEL.. LIKE THERYE SO CUTE....#THEY ARE HOMIES THAT KISS EACHOTHR GOODNIGHT. THEY CARE SO MUCH FOR EACHOTHER. SODA LOVES SODA AND SODA LOVES YOU#do u guys remember how willing he was to share blood w his vampire bestie. like cmon. remember when emizel memorized sodas Soda Schedule.#LIKE CMON.... they just have eachothers backs so much. ouhhh my god... ANYWAY SO THE ART HUH. I FEEL LIKE I SCRAMBLED W IT FOR A WHILE#DRAWIN IS HARD..... i think i did well in the end tho.. i like the lil heart beat effects. and i hope i made soda look Suffieciently Scared#i ALSO had fun w the teeth. i however did not have fun w the walls. if i had more drugs i mightve done every brick in more detail#but i didnt WANNA!!!! this will suffice.I HOPE IT FLOWS WELL&THAT ITS CLEAR... IVE STARED AT IT SO LONG IT IS NOW VISUAL SOUP. HELP!!!#i want my comics to have more Pauses and Space and Thought and Momence. i feel like normally they go so fast. but THIS time#i think i did good.... huuoouhhhh.... comics are HARD art is HARD but i am HARDER. or something. OH YEAH I HAVE MORE ART THINGS#soda was RLY HARD FOR ME TO DRAW FOR A MINUTE..but i like where his design is now. i wanted his hair to be curly swirly.like soda fizz#i THINK thats all my thoughts for now. if u have thoughts u should spill them in the tags i looooove reading tttaaggsss#have a goodnight i gotta go to work soon. maybe. unless the casinos power goes out AGAIN. OR SEOMTHING... UUGHHH MY SCHEDULE IS IN SHAMBLES#I THOUGHT I WAS WORKIN 3 DAYS INA ROW SO I RENTED A WHOLE DAMN HOTEL BC THE JOB PLACE IS FAR AWAY.. I HAD TO CANCEL THE WHOLE RESERVATOn#annd im MMMMAD ABOUT IT!!! like ill get over it ofc BUT IM PEEVED!!!! IM INCONVIENIENCED AND GENTLY AGGRIVATED. BUT OVERALL FINE.#hope yalls weekend goes well. sleep well. if u get the chance to.
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sensitiveheartless · 1 month
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Hey y’all! Just wanted to let you guys know that I’m experiencing a bit of a poor health flareup, so I probably won’t be very active for the rest of this week, and I’ll unfortunately be slow to respond to asks and messages as well, sorry about that — my internal organs are really trying to fight me, and it is not conducive to coherent thought🦎 🐊
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tiddygame · 2 months
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hello im sorry i wrote more for @myriadblvck ’s streamer au ghoap
I time travelled and around 4,000 words magically appeared in a document titled: "you didn't juju on the fucking beat soap" I think I was possessed by something. anyways here’s that:
tw: is it a panic attack? is it just typical ghost angst? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just be careful it's mostly fluffy (ghost is mean to himself cause he almost kissed soap on the forehead)
also i just realized after i wrote this whole thing, this is based on my general knowledge of dog tags… as an american. writing about the british military. so if you know your shit about the british military, uhh sorry in advance. my bad. from a very brief search i think a lot of it’s the same or at least same enough but this might hurt for people that know a thing or two. whoops!
fun fact: did you know for a brief stint (iirc, >40 years from around 1960s to 2010ish) the american military was printing soldiers’ ss numbers on their tags? yeah can’t imagine why they switched back to serial numbers.
Ghost had been pacing outside of his office for three minutes before he actually entered. When he did, he didn’t say a word. Just sat down in one of the chairs, fidgeting. It wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence, he was normally either gathering his thoughts before talking to Price about something more personal or hiding from what/whoever he didn't feel like dealing with.
When it came to mission debriefs, he was clear and concise. However, personal matters were a different story, and based on the way he anxiously opened and closed his hand, he'd guess this was a personal matter.
Price didn’t ask. He knew that whatever it was Simon needed to say would come out eventually. For now, he continued filling out paperwork and trying to figure out what it was that had Ghost so worked up.
Honestly, there wasn't much guesswork involved. Chances were, it was probably yet another leave request. He knew from Gaz (who was such an awful gossip he sometimes wondered how the man made it through interrogation training) that Simon had been visiting some social media person he had taken a liking to.
(Look, yes, Price knew about Twitch and live streaming and everything. He’s not actually that old. However, as long as he kept up the front of the old man who complained about the keyboard on his phone being too small, he didn’t have to deal with social media. Sure, it caused all of them to joke that he was geriatric and on his last legs, but he was able to convince Roach that he doesn’t know what TikTok is, meaning he wasn’t in charge of reviewing all the bullshit he and Gaz posted. A fair trade if you ask him.)
He also knew that Gaz was convinced the two were in love to the point that he and Roach had a bet going to see when they would get together. Price thought it was rather stupid, but he had to admire their ability to keep it under wraps; if the lieutenant found out they’d been placing monetary bets on his love life, he had a feeling he would need to find replacements for the 141.
Regardless, Price hoped that one day Simon would tell him about the friend but, until then, he was happy to fill out any paperwork that would get the poor man off base. God knows that idiot needs a vacation.
Simon was bouncing his leg, messing with his fingers, and staring off into space.
Three of his nervous habits at once? He must be even more worked up about this than Price thought. But, he was a patient man. It was about seven minutes of companionable silence before Simon spoke.
“I need replacement dog tags. I seem to have lost mine.”
Price looked up. He could see the chain around his neck and the outline of them still under his shirt.
"You do?" Price shuffled his documents around, eventually finding a blank piece of paper he could write on.
"Yes sir."
“And do you know what happened to them?”
“I believe they were knocked off during the fight from the last mission. I didn’t notice until later that night when we were back at base.”
Price paused and looked up from where he had been writing.
The last mission had been an odd one. Ghost normally stuck further away, their eagle-eyed lieutenant typically stayed at long to mid-range, watching for hostiles and making sure whoever else was in the field wouldn’t get caught off guard by someone they hadn’t seen.
During the last mission, he decided to engage at close range, a far cry from his usual approach of sniping hostiles from the shadows.
At one point, their lieutenant had been tackled and almost strangled. The fight had pretty much ended, his attacker was the only one left there. Ghost, being The Ghost, dispatched him with ease, but it stuck out to Price. Ghost may prefer to stay further back, but that didn’t mean that his hand-to-hand combat skills were lacking by any means.
He remembered thinking at the time that it was a clumsy mistake, that Ghost would have had to be intentionally trying to fuck up to get knocked down. He assumed the man had just been caught off guard, but he knew that theory wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny. Ghost isn’t one to get caught off guard.
What was stranger yet still was Ghost specifically pointing it out in his mission report, calling even more attention to it.
Price set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.
“You planned this?”
“I plead the fifth,” said the British man.
Price just continued to stare, curious to see if this was actually going where he thought it was going.
“Is this off the record?” Simon eventually asked.
“Of course,” almost everything the 141 did was of dubious legality. Not reporting a conversation about possible wasted assets was far from the worst thing that had been swept under the rug.
“Then yes.”
“Why?”
Simon didn’t answer. Price waited, giving the man time to gather his thoughts, but based on the way his mouth opened and closed before he slumped in his chair, it seemed he didn’t know what to say at all.
Price had an inkling he might know what this was about.
“You know, Gaz likes to keep me informed,” Ghost looked up at him, somewhat panicked yet resigned, like he already knew what Price was going to say.
“He tells me you have a certain someone you’ve been visiting?”
“Yes.”
“Is this person a friend or…?” Ghost once again paused, calculating the potential consequences of his available responses.
He didn’t answer.
“Hmm,” Price paused, wondering how far to push before he continued, “You want to give this person your old dog tags?”
“Yes.”
Of course he would pre-plan “losing” his dog tags. Price mentally chuckled, leave it to Simon to be such a sap that he wanted to give someone his dog tags yet still make sure to follow protocol so he never actually risked going without them.
He had to hand it to him, it wasn’t a bad plan.
Price had a smile now, knowing his grumpy hard-ass lieutenant had a sweetheart he wanted to be sappy with.
“Romantic or platonic?” Price tried again.
“… I don’t know,” he’d never seen Simon look quite so… forlorn.
Hmm… That would explain his hesitancy.
He was pushing how much Simon was willing to divulge.
“And does this person know the significance of you giving them your dog tags?”
Well, curiosity killed the cat…
“No, they don’t.”
…But satisfaction brought it back. How interesting, the plot thickens.
“Do you plan on telling them?”
There was a long pause, after which it dawned on Price, “You want to give them your dog tags because they don’t know.”
It wasn’t a question, he already knew. Simon somehow slumped further, attempting to hide his face as if he weren’t wearing a balaclava.
His grumpy hard-ass lieutenant. Absolutely smitten with someone yet too shy to say anything, deciding on a quiet confession, one they likely wouldn’t pick up on.
Price chuckled, jotting down the necessary information he would need when he got his hands on the right paperwork, polishing up some of the details of Ghost’s story to make it more believable, before reading off what he had written to Ghost to make sure he got everything right. Ghost nodded once, and that was that.
“Replacement tags will probably be here in two to three weeks.”
“I would like to request leave for two to three weeks from now.”
Price handed him the form, having already grabbed it. He noticed how the man seemed to calm at just the thought of getting to visit his mystery person.
Oh, he thought to himself.
I am definitely joining Roach and Gaz’s bet.
<><><><>
They were lying on the daybed in his streaming room, or, well…
No, that’s not quite right.
Simon was lying on the daybed.
Johnny was lying on top of Simon.
His computer was still softly playing quiet (non-DMCA) music from where his stream had just ended. Instead of turning it off, he had decided to unplug his headset and leave it on, the music just loud enough to be heard.
Simon was sleepily scrolling through his phone, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost dropped several times while dozing off, desperately trying to stay awake. Johnny had watched his struggle and decided to lay down right on top of Simon, not even trying to pretend like he was trying to fit on the remaining space on the daybed. Why would he when Simon was right there?
It was meant to be a joke, having thrown himself on top of him to annoy the man into sleeping on an actual bed (he claimed he wasn’t tired but the comically loose grip on his phone and the waking world said otherwise.) However, unfortunately for said sleepy man, Simon was very, very comfortable.
His head was resting on Simon’s chest, arms under his back like he actually was just a pillow, one hand reaching higher to feel where Simon’s hair had begun to grow out slightly.
I wonder if he would let me help him cut it…
Simon had said he was like a clingy cat, his free hand running through his hair in the same manner one would pet a cat to prove his point. The joke's on him though, he likes it.
Simon had tried to stop but Johnny didn’t let him, threatening to tickle him if he did.
(“I’m not ticklish, I just don’t want you throwing a tantrum.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he was definitely ticklish, and one of these days he was going to prove it.)
At some point, Simon had given up on keeping a grip on his phone, letting it drop to the side. They would probably have to go digging through the cushions to get it out of whatever crevice it had fallen to. As of right now, the idea of ever leaving his spot was comical at best.
The sun had begun to set, orange and pink tinted light filtering through the sheer curtains, making everything look more like a dream. Or maybe it was just the proximity to the man below him that was making him feel so serene.
Johnny took a second to inhale and exhale slowly, appreciating the moment. He hoped that this memory, this beautiful tranquility with Simon, would be something he cherished for a long time to come.
He knew that they had things to do. Soon, Simon would be catching a flight at some ungodly hour, headed back to save the world yet again. But for now, he was happy to nap away in their own little bubble. He never was a religious man but here in the arms of Simon Riley, he was tempted to think heaven was real, and that it was right in front of him.
“I almost forgot,” Simon mumbled, not sounding any more awake than he looked, reaching up for the collar of his shirt. Thankfully, the hand that was running his hair remained. He didn’t like proving the cocky bastard right, but he probably would have thrown a tantrum had he tried to remove it.
“They had some fuck up along the line or something and accidentally printed me an extra set of dog tags. I was just gonna toss ‘em but thought you might want—”
Johnny was now wide awake, sitting up and yanking the chain out of his hands.
“Don’t you fucking dare throw them away, of course I want them!” Simon’s face reddened, a frequent treat for Johnny now that he had gotten more comfortable going without the mask. Simon might have been good at keeping a poker face, but without his mask, he was a blushing mess.
He wondered if the blush was from his obvious jubilation at the gift or if it was because he was now straddling the man. Such pesky details, however, (even ones that would keep future Johnny awake at night) were far less important than examining the necklace in his hands.
It was obvious this was the older set, the metal worn and dented in some spots though the writing was still clearly visible.
“Calm down, I’m not going to take it from you,” the gruff tone was severely undermined by the aforementioned blush. It was hard to sound tough while half asleep on a daybed and being used as another man’s pillow.
Johnny stared at them for a little bit longer, feeling every dent and wondering the story behind how they got there, before putting them on.
He smiled at the man under him, “How do I look?”
He was going to joke, asking if he looked like a rough and tough soldier ready for war, but something in Simon’s eyes made him stop short.
He was looking with… with… Reverence was far too intense of a word for the softness of the moment but it was the only word that came to mind.
Simon reached up with his hand, grabbing the tags, his knuckles grazing his chest.
Well, that’s just fucking unfair.
Simon was supposed to be the blushy one. Not him, goddammit!
Though, he thinks when they make eye contact, they end up tied for who is blushing the most. They stare for a while, maybe it should have felt awkward but it was too adoring for either to feel any form of uncomfortability.
Neither moved.
It was Johnny that broke first, smiling at him, yet again tracing all of the scars he could see. It was his new favorite hobby, especially when Simon would blush making the scars on his face all the more visible.
He took one more second to sleepily appreciate the man before him, then went back to using him as a pillow. His hands went back to where they were before, one under Simon’s back and one playing with his hair. His head, however, did not fall back to his chest, instead resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
Simon’s hand returned to running through his hair, his other now coming up to rest on his back, rubbing up and down a few times before the sleepiness from earlier fully returned with his hand stopping somewhere around the small of his back.
Johnny leaned up slightly and gave a chaste kiss to the part of his neck that he could reach, then settled back to where he was. The hand in his hair paused.
“Thank you, Simon.”
A second of delay, and then the hand continued.
“You’re welcome, Johnny.”
Simon shuffled slightly, getting comfy before—
A kiss, on his forehead.
He couldn’t stop the blush and smile if he wanted to. He snuggled closer before drifting off to sleep.
When he woke, he was in his bed, practically tucked in. His window had been opened slightly, blackout curtains that had been drawn closed now swaying slightly with the breeze. When he focused, he realized he could smell petrichor and hear heavy rainfall outside with the occasional grumble of thunder.
There was a note on his nightstand. As he expected, it was Simon’s handwriting, apologizing for not waking him up before he left. It said that he had made breakfast for him (pancakes, with enough for when his sister would inevitably try to steal them), that he made sure to lock the front door, and left the window cracked.
He giggled sleepily at the last line. Regardless of the context, it always made Simon anxious to have the curtains open, much less to leave a window open. But, he also must've known how much Johnny loved the rain and set his worries aside, just this once, so he could wake up to the rain.
He set the note down and flopped back onto his pillows, his hand felt something cold and he remembered.
The dog tags.
John MacTavish is no stranger to crushes and heartbreaks.
He's had high school sweethearts, been in and out of love, he knows his way around the world of dating. Which is why he most certainly does not squeal and kick his legs while holding the tags like some kid with their first crush.
He did it like a grown man, thank you very much.
He grabbed his phone and sent Simon the worst pun he could think of; it was tradition at this point to send him some god-awful joke before his flight.
Simon has probably already forgotten about the whole exchange. He probably woke up and assumed he threw them away when he noticed he wasn't wearing them. It was probably stupid, an insignificant gesture with no meaning. But to Johnny, it felt like everything.
He sighed dreamily at the ceiling and felt the cool metal once more. Thunder roared outside. He thought about how he had felt in the man's arms. Thought about how much he wanted that again.
God.
His phone dinged and he immediately reached over to grab it.
I'm fucked, aren't I?
<><><><>
Elsewhere, Ghost was in an airport terminal, having far too much time to think.
Over the weekend, it was almost impressive how many times Ghost had talked himself into and back out of giving Soap his dog tags. He really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.
Simon felt the spot that Johnny had kissed and wondered if he remembered it. Wondered if he had meant it.
Simon thought about how Johnny had looked cradled in his arms when he carried him to his room, the way he had reached out for him when he laid him in bed. The way he had grabbed his wrist and clung to it, grumbling when Simon tried to pull it back.
If asked, he'd say that he had woken up late and that's why he was so far behind schedule. He'd keep the part where he sat there, kneeled in front of Johnny's bed, waiting for him to fall back into a deep enough sleep to pull his arm away all to himself. After all, it would have been rude to wake him up, no?
He had made sure to plug up his phone and, upon seeing the forecasted weather, hesitated before opening the window. It was only barely cracked, just enough for the sounds of the outside world to shamble in, but not so wide as to worry about water damage. He stared at it, convincing himself not to worry and that Johnny would like waking up to the fresh air.
He turned back to make sure the man was still asleep, still comfy, but stopped for a moment. He approached the bed and hesitated before running his fingers through his stupid haircut, almost wishing the man would grab his arm and give him an excuse to stay.
He didn't. Simon did, however, lean in to give him one last kiss on the forehead as some stupidly sappy goodbye, before his brain turned back on and he ripped himself away.
What the fuck is wrong with you? What? He grabs your arm in your sleep so you feel entitled to be able to kiss him?
Simon backed away, staring at the hand that had just been in his hair. He felt dirty.
For fuck’s sake, relax. It's not that big of a deal, you did it earlier; the man fell asleep in your arms, a forehead kiss isn't too much of a stretch.
He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his hands for a while, only stopping when he thought about how much water he was wasting. He still felt dirty.
Not a stretch? You don't get to decide that. How would you feel if someone tried to kiss you while you were unconscious? If they said that they felt they should be allowed to do so because you fell asleep?
He had started making pancakes. Something quick, easy, and reheatable for when Soap woke up. Like making him breakfast would make up for trying to kiss him in his sleep.
Why can't you just be normal?
Eventually, and after a run-in with Soap’s hell-spawn of a twin, he had to leave. The time on his phone showed that he should probably already be halfway to the airport by now but he has always been a selfish man.
He had snagged some paper and left Soap a quick note, hoping the apology would make him feel better about worse sins than not waking him up. It didn't.
He stared at the man for a second, admiring him, before he reminded himself that he was a fucking creep and left.
The storm left the flight delayed by 1.5 hours. Ghost had sat waiting, wireless headphones on and connected, but not playing anything. He had far too much time to think.
Simon thought about how Johnny had looked, his dog tags around his neck, silhouetted by the fading light, the sun behind his head as if even the stars knew they could never compare to him.
He stood and started pacing. Amongst the screaming children, feuding families, and people who think they're entitled to listen to their music without headphones, one middle-aged man having an existential crisis didn't stick out.
He thought about how he had never understood weighted blankets so well until Johnny had thrown himself on top of him. It should've hurt. He should've been annoyed. Instead, Simon selfishly hoped he would never get up.
It took him a while to put his finger on what he had been feeling exactly. Finally, he realized.
There, in that moment, he had never been so happy to be alive. It was a startling emotion to discern amongst the swath of negativity he normally felt. It startled him so much, he had snapped out of his reverie and stopped short in his pacing. When he checked the time, he saw he had one missed text from Johnny.
Soap (art streamer): i was trying to think of an airplane joke but none of them landed
Simon chuckled and sat down; he almost forgot about their dumb little tradition.
Ghost: Disliked.
Soap (art streamer): everyone is so mean 2 me 💔
Ghost: It is not my fault your pun was so Boeing.
Soap (art streamer): well i thought i could wing it
Ghost: Did you look up what giving do-
Ghost: About the tags, you
Ghost: I think you make me want to live
Ghost sighed and fell back further into his seat, coming to a conclusion that his subconscious had long ago discovered.
I'm in love, aren't I?
Soap (art streamer): speechless huh? finally, the Wright reaction to my comedic genius
Ghost: Absolutely awful, Mactavish.
Soap (art streamer): :D
Took you long enough, dumbass.
<><><><>
Soap’s twin spent a good bit of time staring at her brother's new accessory.
“Is something wrong?” he challenged, hoping she wasn't in a bothersome mood.
She failed miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin but didn't care.
“Nope!” she replied.
She had run into Ghost early that morning before he left.
"Detergent."
She was pretty sure he never even learned her name, just jumped straight into calling her detergent.
"Ghoul," she greeted, glaring at the man.
Being required by law to not trust him, she checked on her brother as he was still gathering his things and noticed the necklace.
“You gave him your dog tags,” she accused, like she was framing him for murder.
“Yes, I did,” he replied casually, as per usual robbing her of the fight she so desperately wanted to pick.
“Did you tell him what it means?”
“...What does it mean?”
Damn, he was good. If she wasn't convinced that he was the devil incarnate, she might have fallen for his feigned ignorance.
“100 bucks and you buy my silence.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“200 then.”
“It doesn't even mean anything.”
“Hmm. Well, I suppose you might be right… JOHN!” their neighbors were probably going to complain.
“What the fuck are you doing?” ooh he was getting panicked now.
“If it doesn't matter then you won't mind me telling him to look it up,” she started walking to his room, “JOHNSON!”
“Fucking Christ, woman! Just— Fucking— Here.”
He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills. Damn, that was easier than she thought.
“What did you say? 100?”
“Nope! That was before inflation. Now it’s 300.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You said 200!”
“So you admit you tried to scam me?”
“Just take the 100 and g-”
She didn't even get to yell, he reached for more before she could finish taking a deep breath in.
“Just shut the fuck up! Here! Three fucking hundred!”
She was tempted to raise her price further, but she was no gambler, she was a strategist. She knew a defeated man when she saw one. If she played this right, she could extort money out of him for a long time to come.
Something, something, vampires not fully killing their victims and all that.
She took the money, counted it, and then held out her hand to shake.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wraith!”
He didn't shake her hand.
“Christ, both of you are awful.”
He packed his stuff and left, broke, broken, and defeated.
She ate as many pancakes as she could, rich and victorious.
She thought about how much power, how much blackmail she had in this moment.
“I’m fantastic actually,” she walked to her room.
I am going to be so fucking rich by the time they get their shit together.
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essektheylyss · 1 year
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It took me like two hours to process that Caleb's description of dunamis actually was somewhat new information and then go back to grab the transcription because, uh, both "form of magic that exists between the fabric of all of forces of power" and "one of the oldest and most fundamental forces" are far more confidently firm descriptions than we ever got in campaign 2.
Was I actually roughly correct about what dunamis was??? HELLO???
VINDICATION?!?!
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liquidstar · 2 months
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sleepovers save money on hotel rooms while on missions 👍
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elitadream · 2 months
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You know that feeling when you're distinctly unwell but not quite sick? 🥲 Sore limbs, tired body, mild nausea, aching head, preoccupied mind, loud thoughts...
And here I hoped this week's sunny weather would help me feel better. 😞 If you guys have some fun or light observations and ideas that you want to share with me, please do feel free to send them my way, as I'm sure it would greatly help lift my spirits. 🙏🍀
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melit0n · 3 months
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EUCLID ANALYSIS.
Told you guys it was coming, didn't I? I apologise that this has taken a bit longer than expected, my mental health hit me like a bullet train, but I do hope it's sufficient.
Part one -> You're already here!
Part two -> Line by line analysis part 1
Part three -> Line by line analysis part 2
Part four -> Musical/intrumental notes
Part five -> The Night in Sleep Token
Part six -> Conclusion
Please note this is a general analysis. Although I do go into theories, both my own and others, this is just general thoughts. Also note when I speak of Vessel, I mean Vessel as a character, not the person, unless I specifically state so.
Tagline: @rilllvri @a-s-levynn @fivewholeminutes @euclidsvessel @tonguetyd @moonchild-in-blue @kkarmatic @branches-in-a-flood
+ Some people were worried about spam liking/reblogging the last time I did one of these big analysis posts, and I want to say please don't worry about that! I get happy when I see the same users pop up liking and reblogging my work, because it means you're interested in this enough to go through the whole thing. Feel completely free to add your own thoughts, correct any errors I've made etc. As per usual, my DMs are completely open to anybody wanting to discuss ST <3
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Let's start off with the basics. ‘Euclid’ is the anglicised version of the Greek name Eukleídes (Εὐκλείδης), mainly known via the ancient Greek mathematician Euclid of Alexandria, who is seen as the ‘father of geometry’, and most famous for his work on symmetry. Its general definition is something or someone who is renowned and or glorious (A) and the lesser known definition is something that is a copy of the same (B) (taken from Euclid’s ideas on symmetry), which we’ll come back to in a bit.
However, there is another Euclid in history that we’ll be referencing; Euclid of Megara. This Euclid, similar to our mathematician, was an ancient Greek Socratic (having been a pupil of Socrates) philosopher. I’ll be taking part of a text out of his Wikipedia article since his ideas have been explained thoroughly there.
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(we'll be coming back to him soon)
First off, this is an incredibly interesting choice of name for a song. Outside of someone's maths and philosophy class, this name doesn't exist to most, so the fact it's been chosen at all is intriguing.
Vessel has shown time and time again he enjoys sometimes elaborate references in his art, an example being chemistry and biology in TPWBYT (most notable would probably be ‘Telomeres’), so, I think it would be easy to say that, whether it be a reference to Euclid the Mathematician or Euclid the philosopher, that said reference is understood and intended by Vessel.
So, let's start with our mathematician, shall we?
What I find interesting about Euclid of Alexandria is that his life and existence outside of his work on geometry is almost completely unknown. There's almost nothing known of him, as a person, other than where he spent half of his career (Alexandria; Egypt, hence his title), where he may have studied (Platonic academy) and a general idea of when he lived (around 300BC). What is known about this insanely famous man who created the foundations of symmetry is incredibly barebones. People take Euclid at face value for his work, just like Vessel (both as an artist, and a character).
Further, we, as listeners, don't have much of an understanding of who Vessel is other than being a mouthpiece of a deity known as Sleep, someone once human now grasping at the threads of humanity and someone sharing some of his struggles in life (both with Sleep and unknown people). Like Euclid, he is barebones, we take him at face value; a vessel. He is both a mouthpiece for Sleep, a mouthpiece for his own emotions (obviously) and a mouthpiece for us. His experiences transcend being just his, due to his anonymity, therefore allowing us to connect and express our own experiences. It's music for the sake of music; expression.
Now, having talked through Euclid as a person, it's time to talk about Euclid and his symmetry. Symmetry in shapes is 'reflections, rotations, translations, and combinations of these basic operations. Under an isometric transformation, a geometric object is said to be symmetric if, after transformation, the object is indistinguishable from the object before the transformation- a copy of the same’. So, of course, this means shapes like squares, rectangles, parallelograms and circles. Circles are a representation of infinity, wholeness, unity and loops. What does Euclid do? Loop itself (starts and ends with B major, which also happens to be the same chord that TNDNBTG starts with), and loops the three albums together, musically and lyrically.
Now, onto Euclid of Megara.
Euclid was born in Megara, Athens and was a follower of Socrates (sneaking into Athens to hear him speak, and he was also present during his death). He is most known for his philosophy that good is the knowledge of simply being and that the opposite of good does not exist, aka evil. The Good is described to be a perfect, eternal, and changeless Form, existing outside space and time. A form of Heaven without a God.
This idea could be linked lore-wise with Sleep Token; Sleep could, in a way, be The Good literally. Bliss. Further, with the idea that there is no actual opposite of good, then how can anything be bad? How can Sleep, as a deity, have bad intentions if there is no actual evil?
So far, with these two notable figures in mind, we can perceive Euclid as one of two ways (and there are more ways to come). Euclid can be seen as quite literally being a form of symmetry; a parallel that Vessel lays his life on because it brings all of the produced albums, all of his stories, together. Or, we can think of Euclid as Vessel. This brings me to @euclidsvessel's post on their theory on Euclid; what if Euclid was Vessel’s name before he became a vessel?
The theory that Euclid could be Vessel’s old name is not only extremely insightful, but very plausible as well. They explained their points very well in their original post, and I don't want to repeat what they’ve already said, so I do implore you to go read that! It's not detrimental to needing to understand this post, but I highly recommend it. Despite this, I am here to both support their argument and bring my own comparison. Take a look at the cover art for Euclid:
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Let me repeat the lesser-known definition of Euclid; a copy of the same. A clone. A replacement. Held in the right hand is the decapitated head of Vessel's old (2nd gen.) mask. Specifically, the one that covers his mouth; the version that relinquishes the most amount of humanity. The album art is a representation of change portrayed in a symbolically gory way. Beheading, depending on the era you’re working from, symbolises both vengeance as well as a form of purification. By cutting off the head, you remove any ‘unholy’ thoughts. It's also among one of the most horrific and humiliating ways of killing someone (since it was typically done publicly, and sometimes the heads were placed on spikes of battlements as a warning).
Furthermore, there's a theory that's popped up a couple of times, lore-wise, that Vessel is not the first person to be turned into a vessel of Sleep, and he certainly won't be the last. So, considering the literal album art illustrates a replacement of Vessel, I’d say that theory is pretty much confirmed. In conclusion, the album art can either be interpreted as how Vessel will eventually be discarded and replaced by another vessel, or how Vessel himself will change, for better or for worse; clawing out of his own skin to become “someone new”.
So, to compare the idea of Euclid being Vessel’s old name, and to create the third perception of what or rather, who, Euclid is, what if Euclid will be the eventual replacement for Vessel?
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