#illripyourthroat

“shh, i’m supposed to be sleepin’.”

[ text ; johanna (plants) ] a man with taste i can appreciate that

“i don’t think it would do either of us any good for me to lie to you. we will both probably die here.” not here on this planet, on this base, in this spot. but here in this war, on this side, before they had the chance to figure out what peace was. maybe the galaxy would never know either, maybe all the stars would bun and die in a state of war. “but what’s the point of anything if we don’t at least try?”

he doesn’t pause in his steps even as he watches an old couple walking past them stop and turn to glare like what she’d said was even all that shocking. “you can’t just say something like that without giving me details, i thought we were friends! you know everything about my sex life.” that was true, he told her whenever he got laid, sometimes rolled out of bed to grab his phone for that purpose. “so like, first of all, who do you know that thinks using an actual chicken in bed is fun? second, just a feather? that feels boring.”

in a few hours they will have to get up, have to go back to this war that he carries on his shoulders, but not here. not now. and he plans to drag that out for as long as he possibly can.

“i told your boyfriend to set me up with one of his not-criminal friends and he told me that i couldn’t handle this friends so i think i have to fight for my own honor now.”

                                                                          - ̗̀     sc            ➝             @illripyourthroat !    ̖́-

    ‘    well, well. look who it is !    ‘  fluttering hands come to land at her chest and doe eyes go even wider in feigned surprise until diosa cracks, easily returning to her leering way of staring.    ‘     mason ! been a minute. did ya miss me ?    ‘