#I can not find the artist let me know if you know

[bi-writes]

mmm. being the final girl in ghost's slasher movie (dark!ghost x curvy!fem!reader, 18+)

his laughter shakes you to your core. you're cornered, in the very back bedroom under the bed, staring at the dull gaze of your roommate as she bleeds out on the floor.

she's gurgling. she coughs up mouthfuls of blood, and they trail down her neck like a spider web until it pools underneath her head, making the strands of her hair red and sticky. the slit across her throat sputters, and you watch as the white painted bones on the back of his gloves drips with the pretty crimson color. if it wasn't so cruel, if it wasn't blood, it might be artistic.

he takes a thumb and smears the blood over her skin. he draws shapes into her forehead and then both of her cheeks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stop from crying as she gasps, reaching up with a shaky hand, halfheartedly trying to push him off, but she's too weak.

he hums when he finishes, and your eyes well up with tears when he knocks her head to the side so she's facing you. he's written three words on her face, one word on her forehead, and then the rest on her cheeks, in her own blood.

I SEE YOU

you scream when he shifts, grabbing onto your ankles and yanking. you claw at the hardwood floor, trying desperately to get away from him, but it's no use. he has you, he found you.

no matter where you go, you've never been able to hide. no matter how far away you think you've gone, it never matters. no matter how long you go without hearing from him, it isn't a comfort, because that usually means the inevitable is coming.

he will never leave you alone. you will never get away. he will find you, he will have you, and every time you escape, it is always just him giving you the illusion of freedom, when in reality, he can have you as easily as he did before.

"givin' me a right headache, luvvie," he murmurs, flipping you over with not so much as a grunt and sitting on your hips. you squirm under him, but this behemoth of a man isn't something you can just push off of you. he's big and heavy, and with all his gear on, he must be thirty pounds heavier. you eye the gun strapped to his chest, but even at this distance, you know it won't matter.

ghost cannot die. that's how he got his fucking name. you've sunk a knife into his stomach before, you've shot him once, you've pushed him off of cliffs and down elevator shafts and watched him sink to the bottom of the fucking ocean, but he cannot die, he won't die, he will never leave me.

"fuck you," you spit, and he chuckles, pulling one of his throwing knives out of his boot and using it to pop the first button off the front of your shirt. it clatters somewhere in the bedroom, and ghost snarls when he sees the lace of your bra.

"expectin' someone?" he growls. "oi! look at me."

you glare up at him, tears sliding down your cheeks, and he uses the sharp edge to pop the rest of the buttons off, your shirt in tatters as it lays loose around your arms. he grunts as he sneaks it under where the cups meet, pulling upwards until he cuts the lace in half. you mewl when your tits bounce, falling free, and his pupils dilate.

"mmmm..." he pushes his mask up, leaning down, and you arch your back when he wraps his lips around one nipple and suckles. you reach up without thinking, your hands finding the back of his head and cradling it as he practically feeds on the fat of your breasts. "know how much you like tha'..."

you whine, and he lets go, pushing the front of his mask into your cheek, licking the skin. you scrunch your face, dirty fucking animal, and he mouths at your jaw.

"'f y'were just a good girl, wouldn't hafta do this," he taunts. you squirm when he lowers himself again, paying attention to the other breast and sucking it into his mouth. "y'make me do it, swee'eart. make me hurt sorry muppets...they're keepin' y'from me. and y'know tha' isn't allowed."

you cry out when he flips you over under him. he shoves your face into the floor, tangling his hand into your hair and yanking on it so that you're looking at your dead roommate, her eyes dull and lifeless as she lays there turning cold.

"look wot y'did," he growls. "look wot y'made me do."

she looks sort of pretty. she did annoy the shit out of you, you won't lie. she looks happier this way. quiet, relaxed, still. it's cathartic, to know that maybe this is what she was meant for. to die, that was her purpose. it makes a little sense.

"'m sorry," you whisper, and ghost loosens his grip on your hair. "'m sorry..."

he kisses the side of your neck, laughing a little.

"now y'r sorry," he says, amused. "y'r mine. when are y'going to learn tha'?"

you put your palms onto the floor, trying to turn over. he eases his weight up to let you, leaning down and putting both hands on either side of your head as he looks down at you. you meet his eyes, sniffling, and you shake your head.

"w-was scared."

"scared?" he tilts his head to the side, licking over his teeth. "scared of wot? would do anythin' for ya."

"i-i know," you sniffle. "just...n-never had anyone that...that would. i-i...i've never had anyone s-so good to me."

he grins, and you shiver a little, but not from fear.

"awww," he shakes his head. "y'r a bad liar, luv."

"i'm not lying--!"

he leans down, licking over your bottom lip, and you whimper.

"prove it," ghost rasps, and you blink up at him, swallowing hard. you push on his chest a little so he eases off of you, and you hook your thumbs into your jeans and shimmy them off. ghost watches carefully, his eyes flickering when you lay bare underneath him, and you bring your knees up before letting them fall. he licks his lips, his grin widening, and he meets your eyes when he sees what he likes. "bloody hell, y'r soaking the fuckin' floor, swee'eart."

you bite your lip, a little shy, and he grips your throat firmly before tugging you up to meet him. he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, stroking your sweaty hair and humming low.

"y'r gonna run again, aren't ya, baby?"

you nod, closing your eyes, and you let a soft moan slip out when he settles between your spread legs, pressing his pelvis to yours. you feel that familiar hardness, digging into your sex, and you can't help the grind of your hips, wanting to get closer, needing to have more of him. he might be the craziest motherfucker you have ever known, and it's a shame he fucks like a pornstar.

you open your eyes, reaching down, and he smiles wickedly when you unzip his pants, shoving them low until his cock is free. like he knew this would happen, he's been leaking into his boxers, and when you pull him out, the tip is red and wet.

you squeeze your thighs around his waist when he sinks into you, grunting when his thighs press to yours, burying himself deep. you cry, your back bowing sharply, and he smooths his gloved hand down your bare stomach, licking his lips when he trails streaks of blood down your soft skin.

"'s olright," ghost mutters, "quite like chasin' ya. makes y'r cunny taste better. makes y'so fuckin' tight, too, fuck--"

"yeah--" you gasp, and he smiles again, disgusting, filthy, murderous, terrifying.

"say it. say it, and maybe i'll forgive this lil' stunt, and maybe i'll let y'cum." your eyes roll back, and he grips your face tight. "oi! say it!"

"i'm yours! fuck--yes! i'm yours..."

[imloyaltoscoups]

i'm ready | yoon jeonghan

part 1, part 2

ꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤ

After seven long years, you finally find yourself in a place of true peace and contentment. The journey to this point hasn't been easy - the scars of heartbreak and betrayal ran deep, and it took time to heal and rebuild yourself.

But you did it. You persevered through the nightmares, finding strength in your own resilience and determination. With each passing day, you focused on your own growth and development, pouring your energy into your studies and your personal pursuits.

Completing your PhD was a milestone, a testament to your dedication and perseverance. It wasn't just an academic achievement: it was a symbol of your triumph over adversity, a tangible reminder of how far you've come since the pain of your past.

Along the way, you learned valuable lessons about self-love and self-care. You realized the importance of prioritizing your own needs and desires, of carving out space for yourself in a world that often demands so much of us.

The first years were undoubtedly the hardest. You struggled to find your footing, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the uncertainty of starting over. You were cautious with those who approached, wary of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt once again.

But with time, you learned to trust yourself again. You rediscovered your worth and your strength, and you refused to let the pain of your past define you. You learned to allocate love and care for yourself, recognizing that you are deserving of the same kindness and compassion that you so freely gave to others.

You pause mid-packing, taken aback by your friend's unexpected enthusiasm. They shake the ticket with excitement, their smile infectious despite your initial reluctance.

"Y/N!!! We're going to Koreaaaa!" they exclaim, their voice filled with enthusiasm.

You hesitate, the memories of your past trip to Korea still lingering in the corners of your mind. The thought of returning to the place where so much heartache had occurred fills you with a sense of apprehension.

But before you can voice your concerns, your friend speaks up again, their tone resolute. "You're okay now, right? So it's okay to visit that country again. And besides, who knows when we'll have the chance to see our friends first ever exhibit. If you're worried of bumping with that piece of shit. Don't worry—I'll give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a punch and a chokeslam for good measure!... I should have been with you when you went there" she pouted.

Their words catch you off guard, but you can't help but laugh at their fierce loyalty. Despite your reservations, their unwavering support gives you a glimmer of courage.

"Alright," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "This is for our girl."

With a newfound sense of determination, you resume packing, knowing that this trip will be different from the last. Armed with the support of your friend and the strength you've gained from overcoming your past, you're ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And who knows? Maybe this time, Korea will hold new memories of joy and adventure, rather than pain and heartache.

As you arrive at the exhibit of your best friend, you're filled with a sense of pride and excitement. You rush forward and envelop her in a big hug, a smile spreading across your face.

"Congratulations queen, you did it!" you exclaim, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so proud of you for pursuing your dream of being an artist. Look at the crowd!"

She returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys. You two kept on pushing me to do this and here we are."

She then shows you around the exhibit, pointing out each piece with pride, you can't help but marvel at her talent and creativity. Each painting tells a story, a reflection of her passion and dedication to her craft.

As you admire her work, she offers you two a glass of champagne, a gesture of celebration for this momentous occasion.

"Cheers to you and your incredible talent," you say, raising your glass in a toast. "May your art continue to inspire and captivate audiences around the world."

She clinks her glass against yours, a wide smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, and cheers to our friendship. I'm so grateful to have you two by my side."

Together, you three sip your champagne and continue to explore the exhibit, basking in the joy of this special moment shared between friends. And as you revel in the beauty of her art and the warmth of her friendship, you know that this is a memory you'll cherish for years to come.

Time pass by and your best friend excuses herself to greet other visitors, you nod understandingly, letting her immerse herself in the moment. Beside you, your other friend suddenly excuses herself to rushed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone amidst the bustling gallery.

As you scroll through the gallery, admiring the artwork, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn around and are surprised to see Jeonghan standing there, holding a glass of champagne. To your own surprise, you feel no shock or hurt at his presence. Instead, you feel a sense of calm and resolution.

"Hi," he says, his voice tentative as he approaches you. "How are you?"

You offer him a small smile. "I'm doing better than ever," you reply confidently. "I got my PhD and now I'm planning on doing my residency."

Jeonghan's eyes light up with genuine pride. "That's amazing," he says, offering his congratulations. "I always knew you would achieve great things."

You exchange conversation for a while, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, Jeonghan takes a deep breath and admits once again that he is truly sorry for the pain he caused in the past.

You nod, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. "I've forgiven you," you say simply.

His eyes widen with hope, and for a moment, you see the flicker of longing in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, a commotion interrupts the moment.

A little kid comes running towards you, calling you "mama." You glance down and see your baby boy, and you can't help but smile as you scoop him up into your arms.

"Where's Papa?" you ask, and just then, a voice responds—a man carrying your one-year-old daughter.

Jeonghan stands frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the sight of your family. You introduce your husband to him, and as you do, your baby boy innocently asks who the man you're talking to is.

"He's one of the singers mommy used to love," you reply gently, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Jeonghan introduces himself to your family, his emotions held back as he struggles to maintain his composure. But as the moment stretches on, you can see the glass in his hand trembling, a silent testament to the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Mama, can we look for Tatie?" your baby boy asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You smile down at him and give a nod. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go find her," you reply, your heart swelling with love for your children.

Turning to Jeonghan, you offer a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you again," you say sincerely.

Your baby boy tugs at your hand, eager to leave. "Goodbye, Uncle!" he chirps before running off with your husband and daughter.

Jeonghan watches them go, his face a mixture of shock and sadness. You offer him a sympathetic smile before turning away to search for your best friend.

As you walk with your husband by your side, his arm wrapped around you protectively, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support and patience.

"Thank you for being so patient love," you murmur, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

He smiles down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're very brave, you know that," he says simply, his voice filled with admiration.

You feel a surge of gratitude for the life you've built together, for the love and happiness that surrounds you. And as you continue to search for your best friends, you realize that maybe visiting Korea isn't so bad after all, especially when you have your family by your side.

In that moment, you realize that the greatest revenge you can provide to Jeonghan is finding your own happiness without him. And as you find your own people who cherish and support you, you know that you've already won.

ꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤ

jeonghan

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 3

Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.

I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.

So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.

Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.

Fuck.

His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.

So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.

The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.

He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.

Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.

The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.

Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.

He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.

“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”

Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.

Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”

“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”

Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”

“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.

****

Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.

That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.

The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.

And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.

“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.

Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.

“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”

Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.

“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.

“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.

Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”

Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.

“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”

He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”

“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

****

“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”

“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”

Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”

The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.

Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”

“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.

“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.

Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.

Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.

“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”

Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.

Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.

“Oh.”

He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.

He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.

Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.

“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.

He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.

Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.

He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.

“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.

Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”

Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”

“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”

“I’d like that too.”

****

Tag List: CLOSED

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[pocket-deer-boy]

People who think rap is ONLY about sex/wealth/violence have never stopped to consider that rap branches out into a hundred different subgenres. I basically solely listen to metal and "emo" music covers and anime/video game songs and let me tell you I absolutely still have rap in my playlists.

Give this a listen and tell me that rap isn't beautiful and inspiring. Your problem isn't with rap as a medium it's with a certain tone and you can very easily find an artist you actually vibe with. Don't read into the bad propaganda doled out by people who don't know better. It's like saying metal is ONLY about being angry and rock is ONLY about drugs and country is ONLY about loving America. It's only true if you go out of your way to be a music snob.

[babybells123]

Why Jonsa compels me.

You know, part of if not all the reason that I find myself thoroughly and continually compelled by Jonsa in such a way that no other Asoiaf ship (or fandom pairing for that matter) does is because of how much it intrigues me from a character, intertextual, and literary/artistic standpoint. And how I’m constantly unveiling new (fascinating) things.

From a character level, I want more than anything for Jon and Sansa to love and be loved in its purest form. For them to finally attain the sweetness after all the bitter. For it to be this unadulterated thing brought into the light - that inspires hope, dreams and peace. Not just in themselves, but in the people who surround them. In Winterfell itself, (perhaps even the realm). That prospers and is unrelenting despite the darkness. I don't and will never subscribe to the rhetoric that either of these characters (namely Sansa, who suffers from this periodically) should be punished and have humility instilled in them by being paired with a fundamentally bad/evil character. Or that either of them should end up all alone, dying withered and without having experienced love and family and life - when they only possessed it for such a small portion of their lives. These are teenagers who have lamented their inadequacies after loss and trauma and abuse. Who just want to go home, who yearn to restore Winterfell to what it once was. Who wish for children and romance - but who have told themselves they can never have it in its most genuine untouched form.

But above all, these are teenagers just wanting to be loved, more than anything else in this world - they want placement, they want a home, and home to them is equated with love.

"She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams." (ASOS, Sansa VII).

"Yet he could not let the wildlings breach the Wall, to threaten Winterfell and the north....For eight thousand years the men of House Stark had lived and died to protect their people against such ravagers and reavers . . . and bastard-born or no, the same blood ran in his veins. Bran and Rickon are still at Winterfell besides. Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Old Nan, Farlen the kennelmaster, Mikken at his forge and Gage by his ovens . . . everyone I ever knew, everyone I ever loved." (ASOS, Jon II).

They draw strength from their blood.

"Then you must do what needs be done," Qhorin Halfhand said. "You are the blood of Winterfell and a man of the Night's Watch." (ACOK, Jon VI).

"He was the blood of Winterfell, a man of the Night's Watch." (ASOS, Jon VI).

"He has Stark blood in him. The blood of Winterfell." (ADWD Jon IV).

"I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard's daughter and Lady Catelyn's, the blood of Winterfell." (AFFC Sansa I).

In Sansa's case, it is to remind herself of who she is at her core. That she isn't Littlefinger's plaything, or this political claimant, or a traitor's daughter, Lady Lannister any of that. She is Sansa Stark, and her blood will one day carry on the Stark name. And it will be in her own right.

And in Jon's case, it also exists to remind himself of who he is at his core. I can't place the quote right now, but GRRM has stated that despite not knowing who his mother is, Jon knows who he is, deep down. And my interpretation is Jon's core values, his honour, his worth. It has various meanings, but I find it all the more powerful when it's in reference to who Jon is as a person. To how he chooses to take action, seek justice, protect and love despite those flaws, inadequate qualms, insufficiencies. And I truly believe that is GRRM's allusion there.

Jon may not know who his mother is, but he knows who he is at his fundamental core. It's a matter of finding it and having the courage to wear it on his sleeve. And I think that is so vital for self-preservation and to live, to prosper.

When I consider Jon and Sansa together, I consider this mutual healing. And I'm not only talking about Jon endeavouring to retain his humanity after what happened to him, after the knives have swallowed him whole and he's uncertain, unsure, untamed. I expect to see that happen, and I anticipate for Sansa to guide him through that with gentleness and tenderness that he hasn't truly known. But even more so, It's about Jon finding acceptance within himself. I can imagine a scene with Sansa lamenting that Jon is a Stark "you are to me" and It's just so much more emotionally grounding for it to come from the girl most distant to Jon (the poetry of it all omfg).

But Sansa needs that reassurance from Jon as well, desperately.

"Sansa Stark went up the mountain, but Alayne Stone is coming down. It was a strange thought. Coming up, Mya had warned her to keep her eyes on the path ahead, she remembered. "Look up, not down," she said . . . but that was not possible on the descent. I could close my eyes. The mule knows the way, he has no need of me. But that seemed more something Sansa would have done, that frightened girl. Alayne was an older woman, and bastard brave." (AFFC, Alayne II).

And I believe he will be the one to help her with that.

"the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains."

.....

"Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose."

"She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise." (AFFC, Alayne II).

Although she is meant to be assimilating into this Alayne Stone faux-identity, we see Sansa having the thoughts pertaining to the North, WF, home, Jon. Cracks beneath the surface where it is Sansa who had possessed that thought, who possessed that feeling, not Alayne. She will not allow Alayne to consume her. But it will be undoubtedly difficult, and only someone from the sweet memories of home and her childhood, perhaps a mirage, something that only existed as a conception rather than a fleshed out person. And I believe that is how Jon sees Sansa too. The reunion is where they will know each other deeply, intimately, truly. Down to the bones, inside out. And in regards to Sansa's reclaiming of identity, of the suppression of her own feelings and twisting of circumstance in order to cope with her trauma - Jon could help her there. It'd be a learning curve for both of them, as I said - mutual healing. But that doesn't that make it all the more beautiful?

These are two strong characters disguised by the author under shallow differences: Oppositional climates, but the same disillusioning experience. Assimilation into a different identity, but the same hold onto the "blood of Winterfell," the same strength drawn from rebuilding from the ashes. Opposite social standing parallels; quite literally living in each other's shoes, and reasserting that distant (fond) connection to each other despite it.

"Jon. said,"Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." (ADWD, Jon IV).

"By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa." (ADWD, Jon I).

Despite being offered the chance of lordship, a family, love - everything Jon has ever truly wanted, he rejects it on this basis. He sets himself apart from the rest that have tainted Sansa, have clung to her like a vice, that don't allow her to exist in her truest self.

"I am a bastard too now, just like him." (AFFC, Alayne II).

And as we know, Sansa has been subconsciously (and then made the conscious assertion) modelling her Alayne Stone persona after Jon.

And you have that physical difference. At the beginning Sansa has a more inherent connection to the South (knights, chivalry, the faith, Tully appearance). Whereas Jon has a more inherent connection to the North (Night's Watch, Weirwood resembling Direwolf, old gods, northern features). Geographical opposites essentially experiencing similar disillusioning journeys. Jon learning that not all Night’s Watchmen are noble like Benjen, Sansa learning knights and princes and everything she has idolised as not as chivalric as she believes.

(But Sansa will find that true knight in Jon - it’s his unconventionality in appearance, a ‘black knight’ that has continuously upheld values Sansa believes in, and has fulfilled her wishes unknowingly, that leads me to this conclusion, but I digress.)

You can read more about this concept of parallel journeys here (there is some excellent analysis as early as 2012.

https://asoiaf.westeros.org/index.php?/topic/72119-from-pawn-to-player-rethinking-sansa-x/page/18/

So we have established cultural differences. Visually, it’s pretty obvious. Sansa is auburn-haired, blue eyed, beautiful. Jon is brown-haired, grey eyed, plainish?alongside the presentation of a traditionally masculine and traditionally feminine figure. GRRM has done this intentionally, he has made them as different as possible on the surface.

But both of these kids can be hotheaded, naive, a bit stuck up, and rather defensive and when it comes to what they idealise. (Let’s add snarky in there as well lol). You can pick up on this from their behaviour/actions/thoughts circa AGOT . And you know what ? I’m glad for such character flaws, it just makes them all the more compelling. But it makes them very similar.

Now as I’ve stated, it’s perhaps more difficult for readers to discern this if they’re not reading deeper than the surface level differences. it's easier for readers to consider them insignificant to each other personally and on narrative standpoint… because why would they give them any thought?? If they’re not consciously thinking of each other a lot, and there’s no on page interaction, then why should we care about analysing their relationship at all?

And well, many Jonsas will say ‘ah, you see that’s what makes them so very interesting’ you have to wonder why the author did not convey explicit on page interaction, or gave them much conscious thinking of each other. It’s not always about what the author includes but what the author omits. Even if a character says something that is…contradictory to their character. (Jon’s willowy creature line is self-contradictory because he’s shown on multiple occasions how much he actually appreciates gentle woman, and this boy is a romantic at heart). Can it perhaps be inferred that Jon says this because of repression. Because he’s a complex, fleshed out being who internalises and represses things he actually wants).

“He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade.” (ASOS Jon XII)

I mean, we even see Ned do this in his chapters. He doesn’t really think about Jon a whole lot, or the fact that Jon isn’t his biological son - but people infer that from the Lyanna references, ‘promise me’ the tower of joy etc etc it’s prettyyy clear that Ned is quite literally repressing that truth and has buried it away so it can never see light. It’s living tucked away in his long term memory, and not even the reader is privy to such thoughts. So if the author can do this for Ned, why not other characters?? Well, the thing is - he does. Because he instils complexity - he makes them raw and human. It’s why Sansa misremembers the events of Blackwater to cope, and Jon tries (and fails) to ignore every impulse to ride south and avenge his family.

But the thing is, people choose to be selectively blind and I'll say it, take things at face value. When you dig beneath the surface, that's when it all starts to make sense. And whew, you realise the potential.

But we know there is no malice between them. We know there is love in perpetuity albeit distant (but that does not lesson it). We know that Jon is not blind to Sansa's "radiant" beauty, we know that he appreciates her romanticism because he is romantic himself, we know that he associates her with softer imagery - singing, brushing out her wolf's fur, that she is appreciative of courtesy. We know that he protects her claim. Multiple times. We know that Sansa includes him in her prayers, that she empathises with him in the Night's Watch, that she models her bastard status after him and that she thinks of how utterly sweet it'd be to see him again, to be in his arms again (or maybe it'll be for the first time?

And then there is how they exist in this subconscious place. The compatible dreams of having a family.

"If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon... In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya." (ASOS, Sansa II).

"I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children.I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. " (ASOS, Jon XIII).

The blood of Winterfell (as I have previously discussed), the similar idealism, a steady belief in honour, in some goodness left in the world, the falling in love with people who are almost identical to each other (See Waymar being a more handsome version of Jon and Ygritte being a plainer version of Sansa), our beloved chapter transitioning with Jon never being far from Sansa's suitors, the unconscious answering of a hero, snow equated with security, home, Jon. "The Snow of Winterfell."

And of course there is that extra source material, there is the allusion to the inverse songs/stories, the ashford tourney and Jon's similarities with Valarr Targaryen, Jonnel 'One Eye' and Sansa Stark getting married.

The literary influence. The Pre-Raphaelite art, the Byronic influence, the just...sheer Bronte-esque I heard you from the other side of the realm and I shall find you even though the narrative is consistently against us... the human.heart.in.conflict.with.itself. William Faulkner.

I couldn't possibly compile every possible reference and discussion in this singular post, but here's what I can say: Jonsa compels me because of how much in line with the overarching theme of the narrative is . For hope to prevail despite all the darkness. A dream of spring. A dream of better futures, the taste of "innocence" and "dreams." I'm not expecting a fairytale ending, but I am expecting sweetness in some form. And the complexity that Jonsa would undoubtedly bring to the characters, to the audience, to the narrative cannot be understated. It's utterly profound and I believe that's why it is so threatening to the vast majority of the fandom.

It isn't just the human heart in conflict with those of Jon and Sansa, it is also the human heart in conflict with those of the audience. A Song Of Ice and Fire will never be easy on the reader, and when something this textually rich is built up, to then assume that the author has inserted all this in as mere coincidence severely discredits him as a writer. To assume that the author will go by the 'safest' option is disingenuous. To believe that this series will be like any other fantasy series is disingenuous. To believe that the author would go down the most conventional route to appease the general fandom is...disingenuous. I mean, this is the same guy who wrote the Red Wedding, to be clear. And that unpredictability and sheer subversiveness was clear from the first chapter. He is twisting fantasy on its head. He is twisting characters on their heads and everything we expect of them. And if people are this riled up by a theory well... I believe that is exactly what GRRM has intended.

[house-of-slayterr]

Character who would find you attractive covered in blood…

Inspired by: @slasher-male-wife

Kaz Breker:

I think at first, Kaz would be concerned where the blood came from. He won’t verbalise his concern, but you’ll see it in his eyes, when he raises a brow at you. After you assure him that none of the blood is yours, his brain will switch gear. He’s gonna take in every inch of your appearance to save away in his head for later. You might not be at the point in your relationship yet where he’ll expect touch. But that doesn’t mean this man doesn’t desperately want you. He’ll save this image for alone time.

Kai Parker:

Malachi is a sadistic little freak, everyone knows that. But despite this, he does have a select few people he can’t fathom the thought of torturing for real. One of them being you. His brain almost short circuits when you walk in covered in blood. He’s on his feet within moment dragging you into his arms. He won’t ask for reassurance that it’s not yours, just silently check your body for wounds. Once he finds none a sick grin will grow on his face.

“Awww, did somebody just wanna get all dolled up and pretty for me?” He’ll coo in your ear.

He’d nip at your neck, licking some of the blood off of you. You’re not going anywhere the rest of the evening, Kai will be sure you can’t walk in the morning. If you let him, he’ll add to the mess and drag a knife softly across your skin to leave his mark. The sight of you covered in blood is his happy place.

Blaine DeBeers:

Blaine thinks you’re the hottest thing to ever walk this earth on a normal day. That zombie has no shortage of pet names or dirty thoughts to whisper in your head or text you. If he finds you covered in blood before you’re turned, the concern side of his head will kick in first. Blaine finds you quite fragile and his biggest fear is someone taking you away from him. He’s at your side in a moment pushing anyone and anything out of his way to get to you. But once he’s reassured you weren’t attacked and aren’t actively dying, a thousand questions swim through his head.

He’s going to ask for more details about what happened and why you did it. But his hands a running up and down your body the whole time, just smeering and playing with the blood. If anyone else was in the room, even for an important meeting, he’d excuse them all immediately. And locking the door. You’re not leaving his office.

And if he finds you covered in blood after you’re also a zombie, he goes straight into horny mode. Though you will get some playful wining from him after about how you didn’t share your food.

William Pratt:

He’s gonna be a cocky little shit the second you come to him drenched in plasma. William could smell if it was your blood, he has your scent committed to memory, it is his favourite thing after all. So there’s no immediate worry from your blond boyfriend. Though a few questions in the back of his head if you’re mentally ok with your current predicament. But he can also hear your heart beat, and knows you’re not in distress.

“Well somebody had a fun evening, care to share your festivities little blood bag?”

He’s going to immediately drag you to his crypt and beg to lick every once of blood off your body. He wouldn’t be apposed to messing you up even more ontop of it. I don’t think you could stop him from biting you even if you tired. As much as he loves the strangers blood, yours is what he desperately craves. Plus what’s hotter than feeding during sex? Spike knows you love his bites just as much as he loves biting you.

Jasper Whitlock:

Jasper was surprised himself to find seeing you covered in blood so attractive to him. If the vampire had a heart beat it would be racing out of his chest. Jasper has a darker side he likes to try and keep hidden from his family. It doesn’t matter if you’re still human or already turned. His eyes immediately go pitch black and he’s licking his lips, wanting to ravish you in anyway possible.

He wishes he were an artist so he could paint this moment 1000 times to perfect the sight of you. Of course if you’re human, he’s a little concerned you might be hurt, but he doesn’t smell any of your blood, just the strangers. Thoughts creep in his head about what you would taste like. He speeds to you in a millisecond carefully picking you up and takes you to his room. He’ll take his time cleaning you up, slowly washing the blood off your naked body as he kisses you in between. He wants to worship you in this state. He will act first, ask questions later.

Thomas Hewitt:

Nobody is surprised by the fact Thomas finds you hot covered in blood, besides Thomas. You waltzed into this man’s life and flipped it upside down. He was supposed to kill you like the others, you were supposed to become dinner. But when one of the other victims turned on you and tried to sacrifice you to save themselves. All he saw was red… both literally and figuratively.

He’d watch for a moment as you try to fend for yourself first before stepping in and slitting the victims throat. Because of the angel, you almost get more covered than him, trying to back up and make sure none of it got in your eyes.

Thomas would stand there panting softly starring down at you. Of course he’s found other victims attractive before, but the poor boys has never acted on it. But he finds himself stalking over to you and gripping you in his arms before he can stop himself. He lets out a soft grunt resting his head ontop of your blood soaked hair. His was of saying “mine”. Thomas is already formulating a way to beg his family to keep you as his little pet. He wants to see you covered in blood over and over and over again. You might just be his new addiction.

Tiffany Valentine:

This woman has never been shy about anything in her life. You knew exactly what you were getting into before dating her. And her plan to wear you down until you joined her in the killing was working. Because here you stood now, knife in hand, tearing out the heart of a woman who dared to insult and hurt your lover. Tiffany wanted to break you, as much as she loved you sweet and innocent she’d been craving your hidden darkness. And Tiffany always gets what she wants.

She’s already wet just watching you. But her adrenaline is rushing wondering what delightful horrendous thing you’ll do next. What she wasn’t expecting was for you to take a bite out of the heart, before offering it up to her. She’d step over the copse taking the heart from your hands but leave you sitting on your knees, her favourite position to have you in. She takes a moment to take in the sight of you, the lust and love swirling in her chest seeing you like this. So disgusting and all for her.

She doesn’t care about the fresh corpse in the room, long forgotten as she puts you in your place. You’ll be worshiping at her feet all night, devouring her till she’s satisfied enough to pleasure you back.

Lestat De Lioncourt:

I don’t think this one needs much explaining. Lestat takes any excuse he can to get you absolutely drenched in blood. He loves the carnage and the filthiness of it. He’s a messy eater himself, and he knows you love seeing him like this as much as he loves watching you.

It doesn’t matter if your turned or not, he finds the blood attractive either way. He loves listening to your human heart racing when you watch him feed, usually kissing you after to get your face covered in blood. It was common occurrence, he was proud to leave a mark on you in any way he could, even if it was temporary. He loved to bite you all over and just watch the blood dribble down you, before licking it up. Your thighs, chest, neck, anywhere he could reach would be covered in bites.

But after your turned, he wants to be there to give you your first meal. Watch you devour your prey and feed off them with you. Feeding almost always leads to sex with him. He can’t help the way seeing you like this gets him going. And he won’t be shy or quiet about his desires.

Venom:

Now I’m talking Venom as its own entity. If he’s attached to Eddie I think Eddie would be far more concerned and worried and drown out whatever venom is thinking. But depending on who the symbiotic is attached to you’ll get a different reaction. Venom will always feel the same however, it’s just if these desire will be verbalised and acted upon that’s the difference.

He already finds humans to be tasty little morsels, in fact it was something he called you quite often. You were his favorite tasty morsel. If you’re the one bleeding, Venom will still be incredibly horny. The scent of you blood makes him feel high. Of course he’ll tend to your wounds, but that won’t stop his tongue from exploring your body.

But if it’s someone else’s blood, his eyes will be zeroed in on you the second he sees you. His sharp teeth breaking into a sickening grin. He’s so proud of his baby and he wants to show you just how much. You’ll get endless praise and he won’t stop begging you after to get covered in blood for him more often. He loves bloody sex, or even just cuddles, either way you’re not leaving his sight, let alone his arms for several hours. Doesn’t matter if you had stuff to do or want to shower, the only way you’re cleaning off in the shower is if he joins you.

Harry Warden:

Is anyone surprised? After all, you are his BLOODY valentine. It’s in your title. And who are you to deny him what he wants to see. Harry would be greatly concerned if it was your blood. His body immediately fuelled with rage wanting to avenge you and kill the person who dared to touch his one true love. But a part of him still thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world, even when you’re bleeding in his protective arms.

But if it’s someone else’s blood, that’s a different story. Harry loves it when you join him in disposing of the vapid couples who simply are a joke compared to the two of you. Their love doesn’t deserve to be validated because they will never love eachother as much as you and Harry would die for each other. He loves watching you test the couples and see who will turn on each other, before stepping in to help you dispose of the dismantled lovers.

Barely a minuet will pass between the killings and his mask being ripped off his face and you being slammed into a wall. Of course his reasons for killing before you were jealously, but now he wants to immortalise your love by killing anyone else who dares to taint the name of romance. These killings are your show of love for each other and nothing makes him more turned on. Of course he’ll take you back home, nice and proper. He’ll make out with you in public, but he doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing what’s ONLY his. And he doesn’t want any interruptions.

An: ahhh, I haven’t written in so long, but I felt inspired this morning. Sorry for being gone yall, I promise I’m alright, just lots of medical stuff going on and doctor appointments have been keeping me busy. I love yall. Hope to write more soon 🫀

Tag: @kados-of-chaos @oceansrose2002 @mothmans-kingdom @myers-meadow

[smashhole]

People who think rap is ONLY about sex/wealth/violence have never stopped to consider that rap branches out into a hundred different subgenres. I basically solely listen to metal and "emo" music covers and anime/video game songs and let me tell you I absolutely still have rap in my playlists.

Give this a listen and tell me that rap isn't beautiful and inspiring. Your problem isn't with rap as a medium it's with a certain tone and you can very easily find an artist you actually vibe with. Don't read into the bad propaganda doled out by people who don't know better. It's like saying metal is ONLY about being angry and rock is ONLY about drugs and country is ONLY about loving America. It's only true if you go out of your way to be a music snob.

[kushblazer666]

People who think rap is ONLY about sex/wealth/violence have never stopped to consider that rap branches out into a hundred different subgenres. I basically solely listen to metal and "emo" music covers and anime/video game songs and let me tell you I absolutely still have rap in my playlists.

Give this a listen and tell me that rap isn't beautiful and inspiring. Your problem isn't with rap as a medium it's with a certain tone and you can very easily find an artist you actually vibe with. Don't read into the bad propaganda doled out by people who don't know better. It's like saying metal is ONLY about being angry and rock is ONLY about drugs and country is ONLY about loving America. It's only true if you go out of your way to be a music snob.

[jtbb]

People who think rap is ONLY about sex/wealth/violence have never stopped to consider that rap branches out into a hundred different subgenres. I basically solely listen to metal and "emo" music covers and anime/video game songs and let me tell you I absolutely still have rap in my playlists.

Give this a listen and tell me that rap isn't beautiful and inspiring. Your problem isn't with rap as a medium it's with a certain tone and you can very easily find an artist you actually vibe with. Don't read into the bad propaganda doled out by people who don't know better. It's like saying metal is ONLY about being angry and rock is ONLY about drugs and country is ONLY about loving America. It's only true if you go out of your way to be a music snob.

[kamenwriter]

Alien From L.A. Blu Ray illustration

[tennant-the-tigger]

Phys Ed.

Hear me out, this is the real reason Eddie was held back. Inspo (x)

My Stranger Things Art |  The Munsons

[kurticus]

Not mine. I saw this on tiktok and immediately ran here to find and reblog it. But it seems the artist doesn't have a tumblr. But the Phandom still needs to see this.

[kalofi]

zl fic idea

hii everyone i wrote something yesterday about an au idea i had for zolu and. i thought i'd share it here since its a bit too messy and disjointed in places to post on like. ao3 or something.

4.7k words, warning for temporary major character death but do not worry all will be fixed in due time. i'll put the rest under the cut

ok i have an idea for an au thats like kind of reincarnation but like reality displacement but like. okay just listen.

so we start at laughtale. its a couple years into the future from where we are in canon the strawhats are achieving their dreams luffy is about to find the one piece theres a big battle happening between them and the blackbeard pirates and whoever the fuck else is there idc. the rest of the strawhats are fighting the bb crew while luffy and zoro head off to find the one piece and also end up fighting black beard himself. luffy and zoro atp r like basically a thing but they never talk about it cuz theyre luffy and zoro and they kind of just exist with each other but like. theyre basically in love and everyone knows it. anyway they go off together luffy has the one piece almost in his grasp blackbeard attacks they fight its a big battle blood is shed bones are broken uumm in my mind luffy and zoro are like teaming up against bb bc his devil fruit is lowk broken and op and like ok theres gear5 too but i didnt rly consider that so lets just assume bb’s devil fruit can negate gear5 somehow or luffy exhausts it before bb is fully defeated. 

finally theyre able to knock bb down and hes out and theyre both tired and worn but they DID IT and the one piece is luffys and theyre facing each other grinning ear to ear and zoros saying “you ready, king of the pirates?” and luffy laughs and goes “not just yet zoro, i still gotta-“ and then theres a spear piercing right through his chest. and in the next moment its gone. 

theres a gaping hole through his captain and theres blood, theres so much blood and luffy’s still smiling like he hasnt realized it yet, like it hasnt even registered. zoros ears are ringing and he doesnt know what to make of whats hes seeing because its just not real, it CANT be. 

he looks over luffy’s shoulder and blackbeard is on the ground with his hand outstretched , black energy coiling back into his form and he’s laughing and laughing with bloodstained teeth. hes fucking laughing. one moment zoro is still standing parallel to luffy and the next hes in front of blackbeard and the mans head is rolling through the dirt and gravel, wado dripping crimson, a terrible gap toothed grin still stretching the man’s cheeks. 

zoro is breathing heavy, hes trembling and hes almost mesmerized by the blood pooling around a lacerated neck— then he’s remembering luffy and turning around and calling his name and he can see right through him theres a HOLE right through him and he chokes and stumbles and rushes to his side right as luffy starts to crumple to the floor . catches him and lowers him gently and doesnt know what to say. 

hes still shaking but cant move his mouth and everything is muffled, the sounds from the battle outside are distant and they dont matter but what does he do. what does he do. 

he snaps out of it when luffy gently calls his name. a strong “zoro,” like hes not fazed at all. like there isnt blood soaking into zoros clothes. 

his brain kickstarts and he’s speaking. saying things like “youre ok you’ll be ok” and “choppers right outside i’ll just call him and he’ll fix you right up” and “you always bounce back, right captain?” and hes thinking “dont die please dont fucking die. not now, not when we’re this close please dont fucking die” and hes silently praying to all the gods he doesnt believe in but luffy calls his name again and his mouth clicks shut. luffys saying it’ll be fine, that he had fun. that hes proud to have made it this far with all of them. and those sound a lot like parting words so zoro’s shaking his head no but luffy is still smiling. hes saying that hes glad he had zoro, that he made him happy. hes saying to tell everyone he’s glad they met, that hes glad they all had each other, that he knows theyll be just fine . 

zoro wants to say that luffy should tell that to them himself, when hes wrapped up and recovering and alive but his mouth is glued shut again and he feels that interrupting luffy now would be cursing him to death, like his words are the only thing keeping him tethered here, he just needs to get him to keep talking to stay awake. 

he tries to smile but it comes out ugly and wrong and he feels his lip wobble so he drops it. he settles on rubbing his thumb on luffys shoulder. something to keep him here. 

so he rubs and luffy talks little things until he cant anymore. until his eyes grow dull and his skin loses its warmth and still zoro rubs and he rubs.

—

thats how law finds them. zoro hunched over a body that should never be as still as it is. and its really no surprise hes there, hes been gunning for the one piece since the time he could captain a ship (or a submarine) but it all feels so wrong. 

zoro either doesnt notice him or doesnt care, but either way the man doesnt acknowledge law until he’s right behind him. its not like law can say anything to announce himself either, not after seeing the state of the body that zoros currently holding. the body that used to be luffy’s. hes still processing it all when the other man(the one whos alive) finally speaks. 

zoro asks if hes got a devil fruit. less of a question and more of a statement, but he should know anyway since theyve spent considerable time together and hes literally seen him use it. law cant unstick his jaw so he hums in affirmation. “and you can switch stuffs’ places?” another hum. “what about time.” 

that makes law pause. “what?” his voice comes out stronger than he feels. 

“what about time? can you switch things in time?” by this point law has awakened his devil fruit or some shit dont sweat the logistics but hes never tried anything of that sort so he kind of stumbles “im not- maybe? ive never attempted-“ zoro interrupts “send me back” 

“what?” 

“send me back so i can fix this. you can do that, right.” it clicks. law would pity zoro if he didnt know any better, instead he just feels mounting despair and resignation. 

he may not be crew, but he knew luffy too, he was allied with the man for fucks sake, and this just feels- wrong. he sighs, a tired, heavy thing. 

“what about your crew?” its useless. zoros as stubborn as his captain, with arguably a handful more screws loose. “it wont matter. they’ll never know because i’ll make sure this doesnt happen.” he still hasnt turned around. law doesnt know what expression hes making and hes sure he never wants to find out. 

hes ready to deny it, cut his losses and head for the one piece himself (hes not heartless, but if he stands here any longer and has to look at. well. he think he might never be able to move again) but then he really thinks about it. could he? would it even be possible? surely this isnt the way things were supposed to go, surely this isnt right. luffys never been one who was supposed to die just like that, like this, law knows that much. he thinks hes going to regret this, but he counts it as one last thank you for everything luffy did for him. 

youre gonna owe me big time strawhat-ya. if i even remember this, that is. 

he puffs a breath “i can try. i cant- promise anything but. i think we both know this,” he makes a vague, weak gesture, “isnt right.” 

zoro doesnt say anything, law didnt expect him to. he just bows his head slightly and law takes that as the acknowledgment it is. 

he brings his hand up, “dont do anything stupid, zoro-ya. or, at least, make it stupid enough to bring him back.” 

he positions his fingers in way so familiar, but the weight of it now is nearly unbearable.

room.

shambles

—

zoro’s world shatters, differently than before, and then theres nothing.

—

he wakes up in bed, bleary eyed and a pounding headache assaulting his senses. his alarm clock is going off which only adds to the drumbeat against his eyes. he grumbles and whacks around aimlessly to shut it off. the silence lasts a moment before his eyes fly open and he jolts up, sheets pooling around his waist. luffy. where was he? where was zoro? did the crew find him and take him back to the ship? did law fail? but this didnt look like chopper’s office.

he looks around to find hes in a room hes never seen before in his life, yet he instinctively knows is his. it all feels so wrong, like he doesnt belong in his own skin. he scratches lightly at his arm. he needs to go to work. 

work?

what the fuck is happening. 

its like his mind is at war with itself, one truth trying to dominate over the other. he trained at sensei’s dojo. he aged out of foster care. he was a swordsman, he was the first mate of the strawhat pirates. he didnt go to college, hes working construction. he made a promise, and kuina died. kuina…died. huh. his captain, his luffy, someone he knew so intimately and who knew him in turn. hes never met someone with that name his entire life. he needs to go to work, he needs to find his crew. 

he doesn’t understand what the fuck is happening. 

without his permission his legs stand him right up and he moves confusedly, surely, to the bathroom he didnt know he had. his reflection stares back at him in the mirror and its him, of course it is, he doesnt know why he expected someone else, but hes also…different. he has both function of his eyes, first of all. a scar in the same place as before but its light and healed over and doesnt seem to have blinded him like it once did. his hair is green, sure, but black roots peek out from underneath the familiar shade. hes grown stubble, he should shave. he needs to go to work. 

hes so confused, but his body moves like its been doing this its whole life. as far as zoro knows, it has. 

he continues getting ready, mind still at odds, and makes himself a cup of coffee (in his own kitchen. his own kitchen? the state of it leaves less to be desired. sanji would surely skin him alive) before tucking into his shoes, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading out the door. he seems to live in a single room apartment, and a crummy one at that. his legs move him faster, he has to go to work, he cant be late again (again?).

his car is parked outside the building, he has no fucking clue what it is but he unlocks it all the same and settles in. he feels like he shouldnt be operating this sort of machinery. franky would know better than him how it must work. he starts it up and backs out. trusting his gut to get him where he needs to be. he should be more concerned, he should be frantic and inconsolable, his captain was dead in his arms and now hes? what? going to lay some bricks or some shit? but he finds that part of him dulled in favor of following whatever mundanity this body is pushing him towards. 

uumm whatever whatever he arrives at work eventually i dont know how construction jobs work are there offices or something. idc thats not the point. johnny and yosaku are there and zoro is surprised to see them since, as far as he knows, the last time they were with each other was at arlong park which was years ago for him. but the two greet him like this is a daily occurence, like theyve been working together for years. and zoro thinks, knows, they must have. but this is good, this is great fucking news actually because until now theres been no confirmation if zoro was here alone (wherever “here” is) but now his proof is right in front of him because if johnny and yosaku are here, and they exist the same as from before, then that must mean everyone else is here too right? he clings onto this hope with both hands trembling. 

nami, usopp, the cook and chopper and robin and franky, brook, jinbe and fuck. fuck, luffy. theyve got to be here somewhere, zoro just has to find them. hes not sure if they remember things like he does but hes got to try because they are his as much as he has always been theirs and they should all exist together as it has always been. 

so then yeah he finishes his shift because its what hes ‘supposed’ to do but he doesnt go home. he drives around aimlessly before pulling into a random lot and pulling out his phone (theres no snail attached to it. weird.) he doesnt even know where to begin. hes not usually the one coming up with plans, he just goes where theres blood need to be shed. but no one seems to be in any danger here except for maybe himself, and its not like he has his swords anyway- shit. fuck did he still have wado? he must have right? he knows there was a kuina that existed here too, he knows because he remembers. and she, well she wasnt around anymore so he must have wado. he must. with shaking fingers he pushes that aside for now, though barely. he needs to find luffy, but he wouldnt even know where to start. luffy could probably find the rest of their crew by simply wandering around and happening upon them, thats how he did it before. but zoro has no idea where he’d be, he doesnt even know where he is. nami or robin would be a good bet to at least form a plan, but he wouldnt know how to find them either. 

is there even a coco village here? would robin still be part of baroque works? he needs someone who has a defined location that he could google or something (what the hell is google?). usopp would be at syrup village right? shit. is there even a drum island? these are all too broad, he needs something specific. specific…..a place with an identifiable name, somewhere smaller that would be easier to stake out…

a lightbulb goes off. 

fucking shit he thinks. of course. of fucking course it would come down to the cook. 

he types in “baratie” to his maps and a location pops up, just 27 minutes from where he is now. he hasnt eaten yet either, so he figures thats killing two birds with one stone. he taps the address, backs out of the lot and drives. 

(if it takes him nearly an hour to get there thats nobodys business but his own)

he pulls up to the building about a quarter after 7. it seems packed enough already, but if memory serves him right then that was just par for the course for baratie. he parks, gets out and locks his car, then shoves his hands in his pocket and resigns himself to another oncoming migraine hes sure to get upon interacting with the man hes certain is waiting somewhere inside. 

the tables are full, the host tells him, he slips a 20 from his wallet and suddenly (of course) theyre more than willing to serve him. 

he gets settled in a far and somewhat isolated booth and a waiter comes up to him, but he cuts the man off as hes introducing himself and says “you got a blonde working here? stupid ass side part with a weird eyebrow? goes by sanji” the waiter looks shocked and put off by his rudeness but quickly collects himself and says “we might. depends on whos asking” zoro snorts “just tell him hes got someone who wants to talk to him,” he cringes at this next part, tries to smile but knows it comes off as a sneer. hes not sure if he still has conquerors haki wherever he happens to be now, but he tries to channel that energy the same way he would if he were in battle and says “tell him im a fan.” the waiters eyes widen, in fear or surprise zoros not sure (most likely a mix of both) before he nods and scurries across the floor, weaving in between patrons and coworkers alike until he disappears behind the double doors to the kitchen. 

zoro sits with his arms crossed and skims through the menu out of boredom and impatience. its a couple minutes before he sees a familiar head of blonde hair emerge from across the way. a smile climbs onto his face despite himself. sure, the guy annoyed him to hell and back and their…friendship (if you could really call it that) was a tumultuous one, but it was good to see someone familiar nonetheless. he schools his expression before the blonde can spot him. a few moments pass before hes standing right in front of zoro, his stupid suit primped and pressed as always, and a cautious look on his face. 

“you asked for me?” his tone is the one he only reserves for men who he deems not worth his time. zoro grits his teeth but says “yeah, theres something ive gotta discuss with you.” 

hes never been one for tact, forever blunt unlike his swords. 

sanji quirks a brow “i dont plan on talking about anything with anyone unless theyre a paying customer” zoro feels his eyebrow twitch but grabs his menu nonetheless and points to a random item without looking “i’ll have this then, and whatever booze you got.” sanji leans in to see what hes pointing to before his one visible eye widens and a grin slowly overtakes his previously unaffected face. 

he speaks condescendingly. “wonderful choice sir, coming right up.” before zoro can get another word in he grabs the menu out of his hand, spins on his heel, and marches back to the kitchen. 

zoro clenches his fists and does his best not to grind his teeth into a fine dust. no matter where they are or what displacement in time the fucking curly brow never fails to be absolutely insufferable. at least this way though, zoro knows its him for real. 

its another 20 minutes before the shit cook reemerges from the back with a platter and a mug in his hand. he steps up to zoros table and places the plate and cup down in front of him with a smug look. zoro has no idea what the fuck hes looking at on his plate. he doesnt have time to question it before sanji plops down in the booth seat across from him, disregarding all previous faux-professionale and asking “so what do you want” zoro tears his eyes away from his plate and looks into sanji’s, trying to convey as much emotion, as much urgency as he possibly can. 

“luffy needs us. and we have to find him” whatever the cook was expecting him to say, it definitely wasnt that. the other man regards him more warily now, looking him up and down with a tense frown before replying “i dont know what the hell youre talking about. and i dont appreciate being mocked or having my time wasted” he goes to stand up but zoro grabs his wrist, yanking him back down unceremoniously. 

he blinks before rounding back on zoro, flaring his nostrils in a way zoro knows means hes about to get himself in deep shit “oi, what the fuck do you think youre-“ he doesnt let him finish “im not mocking you. this isnt some stupid prank or whatever youre thinking. and despite how much i would enjoy punching your teeth in right now im not looking for a fight either.” 

the cook still looks affronted but seems to actually be listening. zoro continues “look, i dont know what the fuck is going on. i was at laughtale with you and the others, with luffy, and then i woke up and now im here and i dont know how but this is all wrong. its all wrong but i need to find luffy and fuck, i cant do it alone. i need your help to find him. find everyone.” the blondes eye is wide, but he blinks and its gone. he looks more tired than zoro has ever seen him 

“im not paid enough for this shit. i dont know why i even-“ he looks like hes getting ready to leave again but zoro is desperate at this point so he blurts out whatever he thinks will convince the other man hes not bullshitting.

“we met you here, at the baratie. me and nami and usopp and luffy. luffy busted through one of your walls so your old man punished him by making him wash dishes. i dont, i dont know what luffy said to you, or how he convinced you to join us, but he changed your life like he did mine. we sailed together, and we had each others backs no matter how much we got on each others nerves. you were our cook. i was our swordsman. luffy was our captain and youd do anything to help him, i know you would, same as me. youre a pervert and an asshole and a damn annoyance, but youre strong. i could still kick your ass though” if the cook’s eyebrow could go any higher hes sure itd be clear off his forehead by now. 

“and you- your dream. you wanted to find the all blue.” he stalls there, engine sputtering. zoro doesnt know what else to say, so he snaps his mouth shut. 

the blonde is still gaping at him like a fish, but he mouths the phrase “all blue” like hes been searching for it his whole life, like he always knew but just never had the words. 

he blinks. 

then he blinks again, rapidly. there are tears pooling in his eyes. his mouth flaps for a moment before he seems to finally be able to push out words. 

“you- zoro?” he sounds small. he sounds hopeful. zoro grins. 

“yeah, yeah its me.” sanji stares at him a moment, then looks around, as if hes seeing everything with clear eyes for the very first time. zoro figures he might as well be. 

“holy shit. holy shit.” 

zoro laughs, a rough thing. theres a ball in his throat that he cant seem to dislodge. “nice to have you back, curly brow” sanji’s gaze snaps back to him before he scowls and tries wiping away the tears that are now streaking down his cheeks. its useless though, it seems they cant stop. zoro laughs again at the sorry state of the asshole in front of him, this time more full and genuine. he feels so relieved he doesnt know what to do with himself. 

“yeah yeah, whatever dick head.” sanji grumbles. zoro quiets down, glances away, lets him have his moment. “fuck, mosshead, im still on the clock and you unload all this on me? how the hell am i supposed to finish the rest of my shift?” his words are sharp but he doesnt sound angry at all. in fact, when zoro turns back to look, hes smiling. 

“you remember now though, dont you?” he has to be sure. 

“what does it look like, dumbass? think im tearin’ up cuz of pollen or some shit?” the cook rolls his eye. theyre both silent for a moment, trapped in their own heads, before he speaks up again. “so, what now?” zoro doesnt even have to think before he answers “we find everyone else, obviously.” “well no shit, but how?” zoro glances to the side. “i was hoping youd figure that out” sanji stares before bursting out laughing. zoro scowls and hunches into his shoulders. 

“of course!” sanji cackles “of course your dumbass wouldnt know what to do! you probably just typed in the most recognizable place you could remember and hoped one of us would be there!” zoro doesn’t answer, because yes thats what he fucking did, but it worked didnt it? he doesnt see whats so funny. 

“fuck you.” 

he wants nothing more than to bash that smarmy mouth in, but the familiar egging settles something in his soul. sanji gasps a few breaths before calming down, now wiping tears from his eyes for a completely different reason. 

“alright alright, well lets figure this out then, yeah? we figure out how we got here then we can figure out how to get back right? simple enough” 

zoro nods, “law was-“ he stops. remembers dull eyes and clammy skin and wrong wrong wrong. he shakes his head, “no, no we cant” sanji looks at him confused. 

“we cant go back,” zoro presses, “not until i fix things. i promised i would” the other man seems to pick up on his panic and his mood dampens, becomes more serious. “promised what?” 

zoros never been one to sugarcoat, but now he wishes he could find a way to soften the blow hes about to deal. he inhales, pushes the breath out. says, “luffy died, sanji.” the fact the hes actually using the other mans name seems to fly right over his head in favor of the first part. “what?” zoro huffs, is he really gonna make him say it again? “luffy di-“ sanji interrupts, angry now, fists clenched and whitened from the pressure “i heard what you said. but what do you mean.” 

he doesnt want to have to tell sanji what happened, doesnt want to talk about it at all, wants to slice it up into small enough pieces that it very well may have never existed.

he told law the others wouldn't have to know, that he would make sure of it, but he's realizing now just how unrealistic that is. as much faith as zoro places in his own abilities, he's aware he's only one man.

and, he figures, if there's anyone i can trust enough to share a burden heavy as this with, might as well be the one who's strength i'd count on just as much as my own.

sanji cant help if he doesnt know what went down once they got separated at laughtale, so zoro sets his shoulders, clenches his fists, prepares himself like hes riding into a battle he knows he has no chance of winning—hes the first mate for fucks sake—and resigns himself to filling the other man in on every horrible detail

by the end, the cook looks much the same as zoro feels, pale-faced and shaky. he runs a trembling hand through his hair and clenches his eye shut. “fuck mosshead, thats…” he doesnt bother finishing, and zoro stays silent—already knowing just how much of a shitty situation it is that theyve found themselves in.

—

(btw the reason sanji was so smug about what zoro randomly chose on the menu is bc its one of their most expensive dishes. even upon regaining his memories he still makes zoro pay it cuz hes an asshole like that. business is business 😁)

uuummm i dont feel like detailing the rest basically my idea is that they work together to try and track down all the members as well as law, since hes also a part of this. i dont know how or when or in what order but i do know finding luffy would come last. so yes its zolu but for a majority of it more in spirit than anything. maybe i can throw in some luffy pov of him living with ace and sabo . he knows something is off but cant place his finger on what. he knows something is missing but hes got his brothers with him so what else could he possibly need? etc etc. you get the idea

[eatmy-customjorts]

art vs artist ⁉️

[cinnamon-phrog]

Do you ever see a take in a fandom tag and you're like HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHH

[seagull-scribbles]

Had a few sonic artists tell me they struggle with Vectors Head, so here is how I (an amateur) do it

I don’t draw Vector’s canon body but I can make a second part about his canon design and my version if anyone would like!

Links to downloadable chain brushes

Variety of clip studio ones here [X]

A tutorial by flo does art on making a chain brush for Procreate - [X]

For those who are struggling to read my writing I have reblogged this to my main with a transcription, which you should be able to see in the notes or go to [here]

Want an activity to complete the lesson? Here is a Vector drawing challenge [here]