#lmk if you don't want me to tag you!

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 8 (Tallahassee/Reader)

You had gone. Tallahassee knew it before he’d even opened his eyes - he could feel the empty space beside him where your body had been, the cool hollow in the old mattress. Well... was he really surprised? 

The sun had already risen high enough to fall full in his face and the light was painful. He reached over and managed to release the blinds with the fourth tug on the string. The crash of the metal bouncing off the window ledge made his head hurt even worse. He must have been more drunk last night than he remembered, or maybe he was just getting too old to bounce back like he’d used to. And you must have been drunker than he’d thought too... Christ, the things you’d said. You’d sounded so desperate so quickly - he could almost still hear how you’d begged him. 

And you’d looked beautiful under him, better than he could have ever pictured it. Tallahassee sucked in a sharp breath and tried to ignore the memory of you squirming beneath him, shaking, holding on to him as if you wanted to swallow him whole. Because that memory would get him hard in an instant, and what was the fun in that when you weren’t here to take care of it?

You must be embarrassed, there was no better explanation for why you’d gone, why you’d slipped out of his arms without even an excuse or a good morning. He wasn’t feeling down enough to doubt that you’d enjoyed it - no one begged like that for something they didn’t want - but we all enjoy things in the moment and think better of it in the cold light of morning, don’t we? Especially since this plague broke out, his life had just been one rash decision after another so he ought to know. 

Tallahassee rubbed his head and felt naked. He’d slept in his jeans - you’d been in too much of a hurry for him to undress and afterwards he’d been much too tired and sated to care - but his hat was on the floor. You must have knocked it off the bed when... He leaned forward to grab it and caught a movement in the corner of his eye, tensed instantly and only relaxed slightly when he realised it was his own reflection in a mirror he hadn’t spotted the day before. 

Tallahassee knew he was probably a little more full of himself than he ought to be but normally he thought he’d more than earned the right to swagger. It wasn’t all about looks in any case, but what he saw now wasn’t too shabby. His face was a little crooked, maybe, and he’d been balding for so long he couldn’t even picture himself with a full head of hair but for a man his age it couldn’t be much better. A lot of women had gone wild for him back in the day, others had been more confused than turned off and even they usually came around to his appeal if he turned on the charm. He was fit, too. That never hurt. 

 But now you’d made him hesitate. He looked at himself and his own approval didn’t satisfy anymore. Whatever had sent you scurrying off, he wanted to fix it. He wanted to find you, right now, and remind you of whatever it was that’d had you so desperate for him last night. If you regretted it, he wanted to have you weak for him again, if not for long then long enough to give you something else to regret. It wasn’t that he needed you, especially not to reassure him, but, well... having a beautiful woman stroke your ego was so much better than having to stroke it yourself. 

That’s all this was. A bit of fun, an ego boost. Two people at the end of the world, making the best of a bad situation. As he dressed and freshened himself up, he didn’t hurry and he didn’t stall. He wanted to see you, but he wasn’t in a rush. And he wasn’t worried about what you might say, how you might look, how you might avoid his gaze and slip out of his reach... If his heart beat fast when he walked down the stairs, it was just the fatigue from the night before.

---

It was impossible to focus on anything this morning. Just when you thought you’d gotten yourself under control, you caught yourself coming back to reality after a full minute of your mind drifting. 

You were full of giddy, aimless energy and longed to channel and vent it any which way but your focus drifted away from any task you picked up and conversation was absolutely hopeless. Columbus was trying to be polite and regain normalcy by acting almost as friendly and calm towards you as ever but no matter how you tried, the tail end of everything he said turned into muffled nonsense as your attention wandered, and you couldn’t think of anything to say that might meet him half way. 

Keeping up friendships seemed so inconsequential now. You tried to wash dishes, looked down at your hands and remembered instantly what Tallahassee had felt like under them. That was all it took for you to get swept up again, for your pulse to quicken and for the world to fade away into another daydream. 

You’d left Tallahassee sleeping upstairs. When you stirred he frowned but didn’t come to and it seemed cruel to bother him if he wasn’t rested. Even climbing awkwardly over his long legs didn’t wake him up and you almost managed to convince yourself you were being nice and not at all embarrassed. With everything that had happened last night, for Columbus’ sake if nothing else, it would be nice to have some plausible deniability and not be spotted leaving Tallahassee’s room when everyone else was already up and at it... Shame had nothing to do with it and you weren’t even slightly worried about how he’d act towards you now that everything was different. 

It was different. It had to be. Right? Not even he could care so little that he’d pretend like nothing had happened. For all his talk of being a rock and an island, surely he couldn’t help but soften a little bit or at least act like it in hopes of a second ride. It wasn’t like you wanted him as a boyfriend... but you also couldn’t deny how good it felt to sleep beside him, feeling warm and safe, really safe, for the first time since all this shit had started. 

And before that... it’d been thrilling to look up at him and see so plainly that, right then in the moment at least, and even if it was just sex, he needed you, wanted you and was willing to work for it. You knew what casual looked like, and Tallahassee hadn’t been it. He’d looked at you as if you were the last drink of water in a wide desert.

It wasn’t just between you and him that things would change. When your group was this tiny, every argument, every secret told, every side picked in an argument, no matter how inconsequential, could change the dynamic entirely. 

Did Columbus and Little Rock know? Little Rock was engrossed in a book with her breakfast growing cold beside it and hadn’t said or done anything out of the ordinary. She was pale and full of melodramatic regret, but that was clearly from the hangover. If she was embarrassed and disgusted with anyone it seemed to only be herself, else she would have given you some sort of grief by now. Or walked out as soon as you’d entered the room.

Columbus was different. When he’d joined you in the kitchen he’d looked at you almost as if you were jus a casual acquaintance, and he didn’t act particularly apologetic or deferential or hurt. He didn’t betray much of anything besides bemusement.

If he did know, and it was starting to feel very like it, that was understandable. Someone who’d choose Tallahassee over him must sink like a stone in his estimation - after all, Columbus liked clever people. Probably not even he was quite self deprecating enough to understand this preference...

As awkward as it all was, you couldn’t keep your thoughts from Tallahassee long enough to care when every time you moved you felt the pulsing of a fresh bruise or the twinge from a limb that had bent out of place. Your cunt was sore, too, in a warm, wonderful, dull way that made your face flush hot and your eyes lose focus every time you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. He’d stretched you wide, given you no time at all to get used to him and fucked you so hard you could still feel it. 

 The cut on your leg had nearly healed by now, but it was a miracle the sutures hadn’t ripped from the friction alone. At least that wound gave you an excuse for limping slightly...

It was a struggle to hide your thoughts; you had to force yourself to pretend to care what happened around you, swallow hard around nothing and press your lips together to keep your breathing steady. Sitting down was out of the question unless you wanted to leave a stain.

“...I don’t think that’s going to get any cleaner.”

You looked over at Columbus, and then down at the sink where you’d been scrubbing the same plate for God knew how long.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” And you turned to him again so you’d be able to see his reaction when you added “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He held your gaze for a moment with a look of pained acceptance, then nodded and looked away. He knew. Fuck, how thin were those walls? Or had he noticed your bed hadn’t been slept in? “Yeah, it... I think it was a bit of a weird one for all of us.”

The tone of his voice, his little shrug and half smile made you almost love him, and you kicked yourself for being so harsh with him before. He knew, and he wasn’t going to make a fuss. He would quit the field and if he felt sore about losing, he didn’t seem to want to bother you about it. Without thinking it through, you slipped your hands out of the rubber gloves and squeezed his shoulder. 

Columbus smiled and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about what?” asked Little Rock, and then Tallahassee came sauntering in from the hallway. 

It wasn’t often that a guy in his position looked even better in the light of day, but there he stood, tall, tanned and secure and you had to grip the edge of the sink to hold yourself in place.

Until the moment you saw him again, you’d almost convinced yourself that you’d be able to play this cool. That maybe last night you’d gotten over the worst of your excitement, that things, while different, would at least be calmer now that you’d had a taste... but you felt weak, speechless, rooted to the spot like a hunted rabbit without the sense to run. There was no possible way for you to feel steady and safe until he held you again. 

[kenobihater]

reblog for a bigger sample size of former angry, creative, and/or highly dramatic children

[whenthelightisrunninglow]

remembered @hehe-hoho-ohno's misfits au it's sooooo good and i love it. CHEERS AND APPLAUSE. YAY

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?

[jeongjinman]

Endless gifs of Jeong Jin Man [1/ ∞]

[kinnbig]

Nodt Nutthasid as Big ↳ KinnPorsche the Series - episode 2

[queer-ghosts]

ok I'm starting a picrew tag.

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1944831

(there's also a different body type version if you click "?" on the picrew)

no pressure to join of course!!

tagging @catsinvalhalla @a-casual-egg @catalyst895 @thefaethatstoleyourname

and anyone who wants to!

[utilitycaster]

There's something weirdly...disingenuous in all the posts questioning why Orym might want to talk to Dorian specifically and not the others. Like, this post is really good and covers the non-romantic reasons why this makes sense, and I agree with it entirely! Also though, it's not like Liam hasn't pretty consistently made it clear that Orym has feelings for Dorian. You do not need to like this (I think it's abundantly clear that I think you can openly dislike a ship) but you do look kinda dumb if you're like "why would he want to specifically speak to someone he's known longer than anyone but Fearne, who's slightly removed from the current tragedy, and whom he has repeatedly messaged whenever he's feeling upset?"

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

Agust D 'Amygdala' MV

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @theotherbuckley 💖

I wasn't gonna post any today bc progress slowed down with working mornings again and having to actually sleep at night 🙄😂, but i'm so excited about this fic and I'm loving it and I just wanna share it all lol

prev snippet

___

“I’m fine.” Buck responds through gritted teeth. He’s okay, he’s fine, he can do this. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” he laughs, wiping his cheeks with one hand. He needs to get a grip. At least while he’s driving. “This is all so stupid, I’m fine, everything is fine.” he takes a deep breath.

“You don’t have to be fine. Not with me.” Eddie says, and he sounds almost desperate. Desperate for Buck to listen, to hear him. He sounds so earnest and gentle, and Buck can imagine those piercing eyes that always feel like Eddie’s looking into his soul, and he can’t handle this. He can’t handle being so cared for, he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Eddie. All he does is make him worry. All he does is make everyone worry. (...) Eddie once said Buck's the guy who wants to fix everything, and it’s true. He wants to fix everything for everyone he loves. He’s the only thing that’s unfixable, though. And he hates that people even try, only to get burned in the process.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @disasterbuckdiaz

[foundationsofdecay]

Okay, I've finally made a list of most of my Sleep Token lore and analysis posts! Divided by categories under the cut, with improvised titles and brief descriptions for each.

Posts are listed in reverse-chronological order per category, except for crossovers.

The catch-all hashtag for these is #aqua's offerings, in case you prefer to look through them that way.

Longer Form Posts:

Duck Into Deep Blue Safety - Comparing the composition of Drag Me Under, Atlantic, and Fall For Me as to how solos are used to describe physical isolation, separation, and the spectrum bridging spiritual wholeness and estrangement.

Show Me What Wounds You've Got - On begging, emotional vulnerability, and our agency as audience and character.

If a Man Falls, and Nobody's There to Hear Him... - An addition-by-reblog to this post by @melit0n about Fall For Me, continuing the exploration of silence and vocals and the implications of Vessel's isolation and actions in the song.

So He Gets To Die A Saint - Martyrdom and the desire to save and be saved, but the uncertainty of who is saving who, and to what end.

Something Was Between You and I My Dear - Musings on the theory posited by @a-s-levynn that separates Vessel as his masked self and as his unmasked self into two separate characters, and what that means for a potential reading of the events of the trilogy, particularly its ending.

I Would Turn Into A Stranger In An Instant if I Could - A deep dive into DYWTYLM with themes of identity loss and the effects of a long-term yet one-sided relationship.

Flood Me Like Atlantic - An examination of the metaphor of being dragged into and under someone's love throughout the course of the discography, and how it reflects in the shifting characterization of both Vessel and the character being sung about.

Would You Invite Me In Again? - A look at cycles of union and disconnect, of love as a melding of body and soul in addition to a rending of body and soul, and the cyclical nature of this dichotomy, primarily through the lens of Drag Me Under and Blood Sport.

So Let's Play - A look into how the language of games and winners and losers is used and evolves throughout their discography.

With My Love as Your Garden - Exploring the lyrics regarding flowers and gardens, of upkeep and of fire, and how it relates to the relationship between Vessel and his lover, described here as Sleep.

Welcome Me In, Deep Into You - Side-by-side examination of Vore and Drag Me Under and their language as it pertains to consumption and consummation, and the respective tones those carry.

Drag Me Under AGAAAAAIN - An addendum to my second Sleep Token x TDH crossover post (linked further below) that brings Drag Me Under into the fold of Atlantic and Telomeres, as requested by @moonchild-in-blue. Elaborates further on the entwining of Vessel and Sleep, of their love and the idea of inevitability.

Duet - Proposing and elaborating on the concept of the song Give being a duet between Vessel and Sleep with alternating POVs.

Other Other Eye - A look at Ascensionism, particularly the lines regarding eyes and attention and conflicting desire. [note: written very early into my posting theory/analysis, somewhat outdated]

Catching a Falling Knife - Using the metaphor of "catching a falling knife" and the general stock market as lens to examine the power dynamics between Vessel and Sleep.

Mini Musings:

Rain Can't Wash Away the Tar on the Inside - Consideration of the lyrics implying Vessel has been trapped by tar and subsumed in it both from the outside and from within.

Keep an Eye on the Road - A quick talk about visuals of crashing cars and mentions of various roadways, and being trapped in untenable situations.

The Vicious Cycle - Cycles and the breaking thereof within the discography.

My Puppet Queen - The dehumanizing language used towards Vessel, specifically as a toy or object.

Glitches in the Code - Considers Vessel as a literal algorithm, and how that reflects in his vocals and degeneration throughout the narrative and what it would say about his relationship with Sleep.

Mirror Talk - Notes on mirrors and both outer and inner reflections.

Are You Watching Me? - Different ways eyes are described as it relates to prey and predation, and Vessel struggling with human nature and humanity.

A Different Harbor - Musing on the peculiar use and otherwise of language regarding boats, harbors, and anchors.

You Want Someone To Be - Concept post about a more literal take on lovers entwined, to both want to become the other, and the loss of understanding of what it means to be yourself without them.

Crossovers:

TDH x Sleep Token #1 - Love as a crashing wave, questions of fate, choosing love despite the clear doomed nature, using The Dear Hunter's Waves as a frame of reference.

TDH x Sleep Token #2 - Uses The Dear Hunter's Vital Vessels Vindicate as a lens to provide a different perspective through which to examine Vessel, death, and what it means to choke and suffocate underwater.

[imminent-danger-came]

do you think the writers are being too slow revealing what happened with wukong and macaque? like should the full story been revealed in s4

That's very subjective!

For me personally, I'm totally fine with how it's played out. We get enough tidbits every season/developments with their dynamic that I'm pretty content. I also just think that when the time comes, how they choose to reveal that information to us (and especially to MK) will have optimal impact!

Idk, I just think it's going to work out you know

[amiharana]

ok I was reading thru your tattoo/flower shop au and I had to share the brainrot.

I hc revali as indigenous (particularly great plains native american) and oh man, what if at some point he very hesitantly brings up with link that he wants to get facial tattoos or something similar that's significant to him but he's nervous?? And Link goes out of his way to learn traditional stick-n-poke techniques so he can be the one to give revali his tattoos?? And it's like super sweet and meaningful for them both and Link feels honored that revali trusts him enough to ask? (and also revali is scared shitless and Link has to stop several times so he doesnt mess up and hurt revali more than it typically would)

like what if though???

ahem (taps mic) Hello can anyone hear me. i haven't written a tumblr ask in ages i feel ancient

first of all, i'm glad to hear that you still think of my tattoo/flower shop au haha it's been way over a year now since i wrote it. i still very much appreciate everyone who drew art for it 🫶 i've had a few passing thoughts about writing it into an actual proper multi-chaptered fic but i've been busy wrestling with school, work, and my personal demons for the past year that it's been quite difficult to even think about writing anything. thank you to anyone who's still here; i appreciate you a lot 🤍

i love the hc of revali as indigenous and i think it really fits in with the presence of the rito people as we're introduced to in the games, but i won't touch on that too much since i'm not indigenous/well-versed in indigenous culture. you know what i Am well-versed in though? these gay ass mfs

i had to reread my own au post for this Lord it's been too long, i wrote back then that i thought of revali as someone who isn't too fond of tattoos and doesn't have a great pain tolerance for them, and i still believe in that LOL. mixing that in with a hc where revali is indigenous is quite interesting, because i would assume that tattoos are an important/frequently appearing aspect of the culture? revali's parents have also passed in this au and he's alone with no family running the shop, so perhaps revali was estranged from his indigenous culture while growing up/at some point and became interested in trying to connect with it as an adult. maybe he came across the topic of traditional tattoos and after researching about it, he became interested in getting one but again because of his low pain tolerance, he thought it probably may never happen. well...

during one of their shared lunch breaks perhaps at a new cafe that's opened up on tabantha street, revali absentmindedly mentions his family and the tattoos. link immediately looks up at him from his food, those lovely blue eyes searching his face curiously.

"traditional tattoos?" he says, cocking his head at revali. revali blinks. well, of course link would have interest in the topic since he was a fellow tattoo artist himself, but the way he was looking at revali was...

"well yes," revali continues. "i suppose i haven't really talked to you much about myself personally, have i? i'm an indigenous hyrulean and my blood is descended from the rito tribe, but i'm not well-versed in my own culture." he mumbles the last few words, looking down at his coffee. "my parents and i lived on reservation land until i was 5 and then we moved away to a bigger city for work. there weren't many other rito there and so i didn't grow up with a lot of other indigenous folk. i don't know much about my family or my culture because of it, and even after my parents passed, it's never come up until now." revali glances back at link, who is now watching him with rapt attention. he looks away again, his cheeks beginning to warm. "i thought it would be nice to connect with my culture by getting a traditional tattoo of the rito tribe, perhaps something small so i can handle it. though, i wouldn't be able to travel to the reservation to find a traditional tattooist because of the shop and neither do i know of any tattoo artists nearby that could do it..."

"i'll do it," link says suddenly. revali looks at him again and blinks. link's eyes are bright and wide, blazing with determination. he's still holding his sandwich in his hands.

"i-i couldn't ask that of you," revali says, heart skipping a beat. "you'd likely have to learn an entire new and unfamiliar technique, and—"

"i'll do it," link insists, placing the sandwich down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his eyes are still trained on revali, just as insistent as his mouth is. revali swallows.

"use a napkin, please," he mutters, passing link one. the blond takes it and grins at him. "if it's something that you greatly desire to do... i will assist you in offering as much information as i can. i... appreciate it, link." i appreciate you, he thinks but the words get stuck in his throat. link's smile only grows.

thinking about link who researches rito tribal tattoos for a few weeks and reporting and discussing his findings with revali during their mon/wed lunch breaks. thinking about link who spends countless nights staying up compiling everything he finds into a document, the different types of tribal tattoos and their meanings, researching the materials and tools needed for traditional tattoos, sketching different tribal symbols endlessly for the perfect one for revali in between tattoo sessions with other clients, thinking about where on revali's body it would go, thinking about revali's warm skin under his hands... let's keep it PG link 🫡

the day finally arrives when link introduces the tattoo sketches to revali. link probably shows him a few ideas of a small rito symbol on his fingers, wrist, deltoid, ankle, and even ribs. HOWEVER. i really like the idea of the winged rito symbol across the back of revali's shoulders to represent his wings in canon? so what if. link who sketched a drawing of revali's back muscles with the winged rito symbol and he doesn't mean to show it to revali since it's a much bigger tattoo than revali wanted, but revali happens upon it anyway while scrolling through the sketches on link's ipad.

"what's this one?" revali says pointing at it.

link glances over at the screen and flushes. "oh, i didn't mean for you to see this one," he murmurs. he uses two fingers to zoom in on the image slightly. "i just had an idea for this particular symbol, so i sketched it out because i thought it'd look nice. i know you wanted a smaller one, so we can just focus on the first sketches—"

"it's beautiful," revali cuts him off, voice soft and still looking at the winged sketch. "how much do back tattoos hurt?" and link is jaw dropped, staring at him with hearts in his eyes LMFAOOOOOOOO

thinking about link who actually reaches out to a traditional tattooist from revali's tribe and asks if he can mentor link so he can learn their technique??? maybe link and revali who end up traveling to the reservation together so revali can visit and link can learn directly from the tattooist??? revalink road trip and sharing a bed trope??? link would probably only take a week tops to learn the technique since he's like a prodigal artist and the tattooist is impressed. also revali getting to spend time with and learn more about his culture from others from the tribe who live there 🥺

if revali does get the winged rito symbol tattoo on his back, he probably wouldn't get it as a solid color, maybe link would incorporate more tribal lineart into it like the totk zonai imagery? i've never gotten a tattoo so i don't know if back tattoos or the style of solid color tattoos would hurt, but regardless, link would make revali as comfortable as he can throughout all the sessions 🥺🥺🥺

originally when i read this ask and you mentioned facial tattoos, i thought about link gently holding revali's jaw between his pointer finger and thumb to readjust the positioning of his face in the midst of tattooing him, and revali sucking in a breath at the contact WAHHHH but with the direction i took with this post, i also thought about link laying a flat palm between revali's shoulder muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin and tracing his shoulder blades with a featherlight touch and revali getting flustered but muttering, "are you going to keep me in suspense?"

link traces a line down revali's spine. "are you sure you want to get this tattoo?" he murmurs. "we can still do the smaller ones instead if you want. i know how you feel about it, with your pain tolerance and all."

revali snorts, trying to mask his nervousness. "i've already made up my mind. it's a beautiful piece that you put a lot of thought into and i'm not backing out now. besides..." revali's voice lowers into a mumble. "i wouldn't have gone through with it if it was anyone else. i trust you."

link's cheeks pinked in the sweet way they do when revali catches him off-guard, but he can't take it back. he doesn't want to take it back, because it's true; revali trusts link for this with everything he has.

hhh . AHHHH . i just think. yeagh.

[bumblee27]

Pssssst I want to know 1 - 7 songs that are just vibing with your soul atm :3

I'll go first! California by Ricky Montgomery! Summer by Good Kid! Predator by The Crane Wives! Never the Muse by Madilyn Mei!! Nobody by Mitski! Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan! Cold Weather by glass beach!

@justabit-silly! @blujellyfish21! @secretkittywolf! @nikidykeachu! @ace-of-arthropods! @falseori! @iloveyapping! @4rc7urus634ming! @actuallyaninnocentdude! + anyone else who wants to share! ^^

[teekays]

….speak on mt19 & his dad dare you

okay i need to be extremely crystal clear here when i say this is NOT!! something i think is based in any sort of reality, it's less speculation and more Something i think would be interesting to explore via the lens of this character. not trying to analyze and interpret any real events! just an interesting fictional thing! with that being said! im gonna put this under a cut because its A Lot--

i think there is not enough fic about players that examines the way hockey is cyclical, passed down through families the exact same way that abuse is, and the way it works the exact same way a lot of families do when abuse happens, closing ranks to protect their own, turning things into open secrets but never holding anyone accountable... and i think the tkachuks are a really interesting group to explore that through because keith is one of those guys who's like. he has no illusions about the way hockey works-- he played a kind of body-on-the-line, rough, thoroughly obnoxious hockey that his sons play now, and he's obviously proud of that, and yet... there's some obvious tension and discomfort there, a grappling with that legacy on matthew's part without the kind of words to actually describe that process, and i just think there is a LOT of room for some Narratives there... if you catch my drift. i also find it really interesting that he talked about matthew setting boundaries with him because that feels so unheard of, but the way he talked about it was so.... dismissive. which is another thing that ties into all of this, the way your body becomes Not Yours through hockey the way it often feels like Not Yours after abuse... what is getting up to play with a broken sternum even though you can barely dress yourself if not having to go about your business even though you were just profoundly harmed because It's What Your Dad Said Had To Happen..... yknow? there's a quote from The Incest Diaries about how the author, after years and years of horrific abuse and despite her all consuming hatred for her father and what he's done, still wants him to think she's sexy and clever, still wants him to Want her (i think it's in the service bell tag actually lol-- another can of worms) and like. HOCKEYCORE! so much of hockey is about doing the daddy dance and mt19 is doing the daddy dance for a man who could not care less about him more than anyone else, i think. roman roy you would've loved matthew tkachuk

[drawfee-quot3s]

hey, uh- ciara, do i pass the brand test again, or-

uh-- um...

-julia + ciara