#I drew this a year ago already Jesus | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

billthedrake · 5 months

Text

This story inspired by the classic writings of @macstevens.

THE NIGHT BEFORE

"You feeling nervous, Dad?" I asked as we walked back into our hotel room. We'd taken a walk around and had scoped out a lot of the other men we'd be seeing tomorrow.

Dad was surprisingly earnest as he thought over for a second. "I should be telling you I'm not," he replied. "I guess I get a little too caught up in the competitive thing."

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't," I assured him. "Trust me, you're gonna kill it tomorrow."

I could read all the doubts in my father's head. In 2018 he'd come here and had fallen short of placing. The pandemic came, and that meant time away from the gym. More than that there was Dad's self-imposed backaway from bodybuilding. "It's just not worth it," he'd said. "The time, the dieting, making yourself into some muscle bimbo," he said.

Until it was worth it. About a year and a half ago, Dad started getting that itch again. It took even more work this time, as he was in his mid-50s now, which meant would be competing in the Master's 50+ division

Now, Dad was probably in his best form of his life. Growing up, he'd always seemed just big - tall, beefy, ex-jock kind of body. Around the time of my parents' divorce, he'd gotten into better shape. My his mid 40s, that fitness kick got channeled into serious lifting. No two ways about it, my cop dad was a beast now.

And he was pulling off his XXL t-shirt, showing me all the ripped muscle he'd been bulking and fine tuning the last year. Dad tossed the shirt aside and turned to me. "Guess it's time for you to work your magic, Drew."

"Jesus, fuck," I gasped. It wasn't from surprise, since I was well familiar with my dad's body. But it never failed to take my breath away. He was hard, vascular, and covered with a pelt of silvery hair.

Dad chuckled. "I know you like the fur, buddy."

I gulped. Something had changed the last couple of years where the salt and pepper in Dad's chest hair was getting closer to full-on silver. "Yeah, I do," I admitted. "But you gotta show off your work, Dad."

"Yeah," he said, and started taking off his shorts. "You get everything ready."

I'd learned the hard way to put down newspaper on the bathroom floor. Dad's really fucking hair. I pulled out the supplies from my backpack - clippers, shave gels, a couple of additional razor cartridges, some aloe moisturizer. I used to wax Dad down, but we both enjoyed the slower, more intimate ritual of the shaving. And this way, his hair would grow back sooner, which was a plus for us.

"I'm afraid I'm giving you a lot of work," he chuckled as he stepped into the small space of the hotel bathroom. Dad was fully naked and his cock was already firming up into a healthy-sized hardon. We'd gotten beyond the awkwardness of this process and now got turned on by it.

I realized I was fully hard in my basketball shorts and I was glad I decided to freeball it, because otherwise my erection would feel uncomfortably constrained. I stripped off my shirt and affectionately patted his back, taking some time to feel the competition-ready muscle. "Jesus, Dad... being away at college... it's incredible to see you now."

That made my father smile. But he didn't say anything more. It was time for the shavedown.

I started the clippers and sheared off big swipes of that thick fur, watching the silvery curls fall down to the floor, some catching on his hair below. I then worked the clipped on the other side, from his lower abdomen to the base of his giant pecs. His cock jerked as I did and I could see the hunger in his eyes.

I pulled back the clippers and kissed him. Tongue and all, we make out, and I felt his prick nudge against the hard ridge in my shorts. I was actually a couple inches taller than Dad, a classic basketball jock build, and times like this, I loved the similarity and yet contrast between our bodies.

Dad was thinking something similar, too, and as I pulled back he growled. "I swear each time I see ya, you're bigger, boy."

I flexed for him some and laughed. In high school, I'd been on the leaner side, and even now my muscle looked less imposing because of my height. But I'd been working a lot with the team's strength coach and my effort had paid off. I placed the clippers back on him, focusing on the round swell of his chest muscle. "I got a bodybuilding Dad I gotta keep up with," I said.

It was Dad's turn to flex, making his knotted arms almost balloon in size. "I couldn't have gotten here without you, buddy," my father said, a twinkle in his handsome brown eyes that seemed lighter in color now that his hair was graying.

"Lift your arm," I instructed. This was the one part where the hair seemed less thick as Dad got older, but his pit was still well-furred. Dad's hair just had a way of growing in fast and thick.

It was going now, as I buzzed the clipper along the growth, shearing it down to a quarter inch.

Then I did the other arm pit.

My father's back isn't that hairy but I zapped away a couple of patches, along his lower back and along his upper traps. The forearms needed touching up to.

Dad reached down and gripped my boner, massaging it through the nylon of my shorts. It felt tantalizing, but we both kept the libido in check for now. Still, I pulled back with a huge wet spot at the tip of my cock. Dad used to tease me for my lack of patience in the bedroom, but now I knew how to be a good boy.

I squatted down and trimmed the legs, front and back. Then the hard cannonball ass that had been the first thing that required Dad to size up his police uniform.

This whole process took a while, about five to ten minutes for the initial trim. Now I turned off the clippers and set them aside. I wiped down the legs with a wet washcloth and put a good amount of shaving gel in my palm. This was the laborious part, but Dad would have a fresh, close shave for competition tomorrow.

It was quiet and sexual, Dad's prick dripping that slick clear fluid as I ran the razor over the quads, revealing hard muscle more fully. His dieting and diuretics meant every vein popped on the surface of his leg. I finished and wiped him down, admiring my handiwork. I took a strange pride in this, not only my skill in shaving Dad down but also an embrace of my kink. It was like each swipe of the razor blade was an act of power, of taking away Dad's masculinity, and yet giving him an even more amazing masculine form.

I started on the other leg. We broke the spell of silence some by talking about the likely competition he'd have tomorrow. Soon, I was wiping down the smooth muscle and rinsing off the blade in the sink.

I took my time with his calved and powerful hamstrings. Dad's hardon flagged. Mine didn't. I remembered when my father's ass has a little of that meaty give to it. The first time I'd touched his bare buns, or eaten him out, of fucked him. Now it was hard steeliness in my hands as I ran the razor over it, clearing a path in the foamy gel to reveal the smooth hard skin beneath. I don't know what it was, but there was something about a 55 year old's skin that was distinctive from a younger man's, even in Dad's competition ready muscle physique. Maybe because of his muscle physique.

"Want me to get in there?" I asked, my voice hoarse in excitement.

"Might as well," Dad said. And like that, he was leaning over and bracing his arms on the shower-tub rim, spreading his legs for me.

The first time Dad showed his hole to me, I had a premature ejaculation, I was so turned on. Those days were past me, but my heart always pounded double time to see this sight.

"I love you, Dad," I hissed. I had meant to save that kind of talk for later in the weekend. Or at least for a more appropriately intimate moment. But it just came out.

"Love ya too, Drew," he replied.

I could tell he was holding himself dead steady. This part involved more delicate razor work. I spread his crack further open with my fingers and flicked away the hairs around his pucker. My father's ring had seen more use lately. It wasn't a puffy, slutty hole or anything, but he'd gotten fucked more regularly, even with my absence at school.

"There," I announced, splashing some water on the pucker and wiping it down.

Dad leaned up and turned around. His prick was throbbing again. "You're the best, son," he said, reaching down to ruffle my hair.

I laughed. "Dad, you know how much this drive me crazy." I was already taking the shaving gel and smearing it around his lower abdomen. Dad trained natural and competed in a natural tournament. It put a cap to his size but also meant his belly was normal and relatively flat for a man his age.

He looked down with a look that had a good deal of pride mixed in with the lust. "I've been too scared to ask, but you having fun in college?"

I knew what he was getting at. I kept my attention on the shaving process but as I rinsed of the blade, I answered him. "Not really. Playing ball and keeping up my GPA keeps me pretty focused, you know?"

I knew he liked my answer but he nodded. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you found someone, you know." I think he half believed it. Trying to be the good parent.

I stood up. I was SO hard now. I knew I was tempting myself, but I pulled the waist band over my cock and slid my shorts down. Dad's eyes widened. "He'd probably have to be a cop," I said. "You and Rick spoiled me."

Dad chuckled. "I can't tell if you're kidding sometimes."

I raised my eyebrow. "I'm not kidding," I said. I pumped some more gel into my hand. The can was running low now, and I'd have to start on the second. I smeared it over his hard round pecs. I wetted down a new blade and brought it up. "I've been thinking a lot actually... I don't know, I'm seriously thinking about going into law enforcement."

"Drew," Dad objected, but he didn't complete his thought.

I shaved the chest in slow, broad swaths. It was beautiful to see Dad's new body emerge before my eyes. "Basketball's great, but I know I'm not NBA material," I explained. I gave a wry smile as I quickly glanced from his chest to his face. "And the pension's good, right?"

He laughed. "Pretty good," he replied. "But it's better in a city." Dad was police chief in a small town force.

"Then you get big city problems," I countered. I now ran the razor gingerly around dad's thick brownish nipple. "But you know what I'm thinking, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Just promise me you're not gonna rush into that decision lightly. I want you to think practically before you commit to anything."

"I will, Dad," I said. Feeling chastised some, but he was right. I had a way of letting my cock do the thinking for me. I leaned in as I flicked the razor along his upper chest, next to the neck. Our cocks touched, wet and leaking.

"Fuck!" Dad gasped.

"I didn't nick you, did I?" I asked, concerned. I'd been more prone to that when we started this, but I'd gotten better and a lot more careful.

"No," he responded. "But please tell me we're gonna make up for lost time this weekend, son."

"We're gonna make up for lost time, Dad," I breathed. Then setting down the razor, I kissed him once more. This once feel deeper and more powerful.

"Damn, buddy," my father said as we broke off. "You've gotten even better at that."

I grinned. "Finish you up?" I asked. "We're almost done."

He nodded and lifted his right arm to let me get the trimmed hairs beneath, then the other. Up close, my father's hard muscled body now seemed bigger and heavier. We were both tall and our combined sized made the bathroom quarters seem particularly close.

"Maybe you can trim the crotch tomorrow. Figure out how much you wanna do." Dad said as I shaved his arms smooth. I could never decide what I thought about a shaved crotch. I used to hate it, but now there was a kinkiness in seeing his mature muscled cop body shaved completely smooth. Dad mostly like not worrying the posing trunks area and was glad for me to go as tight a shave as I wanted.

"Yep," I said.

Finally Dad started up the shower and we both got in. I loved sudsing up his shaved-down body and making out with him. We'd barely stepped out and dried off when we heard a knock.

"What fucking timing," I heard Dad say as he turned his upper body some.

I patted his smooth rump and picked up my shorts to slide them back on. I was achingly hard in them, obscenely so, but I had a good idea who was at the door.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Rick Caldwell grinned as I opened the door. He was fifteen years younger than Dad and six inches shorter. He was pretty much the textbook example of meathead cop, having been lifting and competing since he was 18. He stood now in full uniform, the bulletproof vest beneath his poly-blue shirt making his chest look that much more expansive, and his huge guns straining the sleeves.

"Dude, it's your room, too," I laughed.

Rick stepped in and set down his bag. He had a big grin on his closely shaved face. "Been too long, kid," he smiled as he stepped up for a kiss. I used to joke that Rick was Dad's boyfriend, but it seemed more and more like he was mine. I groped his hard body and felt him up beneath the uniform.

"Bout damn time, Caldwell," Dad joked as he stepped in to see us making out.

Rick pulled back. "Hiya Chief. Hit some traffic after my shift." He looked up my father up and down. "Your boy does good work."

"He does," Dad said as he stepped up, pulling his hand on my bare shoulder. "Takes his time."

Rick smiked. "I bet." Then, "You guys see all the beef parading around? Lots of law enforcement, too. I figured Junior here's gotta be pretty worked up," he winked at me. I didn't share a first name with my father but that didn't stop Rick from using that as a nickname.

"Understatement," I said. While Rick always encouraged my horndog side, I didn't always like to scope out other guys around Dad. But it was impossible to hide it on occasions like this .

Dad didn't seem to mind now. His fingers playfully dug into my delt muscle. "Drew here's thinking about signing up for the Academy after college." There was some pride in his voice, even tough I knew my father was stubborn enough to try to talk me out of the idea a few times over the upcoming year.

"Yeah?" Rick asked, turning to look at my own smirk. "You'll make a good officer, Junior," he said. Already he was crouching down in front of me and working my shorts.

I almost objected and I knew my body stiffened defensively. Dad and I had just had the most exquisite 40 minutes of foreplay and I worried now that all my patience would be squandered in a half minute's time.

"It's OK, buddy," Dad whispered hoarsely, pullling my upper body tighter against his nakedness. "Let him."

I gapsed as Rick sank his mouth over my precum-wet boner.

"Holy fuck," I gasped, looking down at him, beginning to blow me in full uniform. Big muscle head cop going down on me. Rick was skilled, but more than that he just loved doing it.

It was the two personalities of the men in my life. Dad always telling me to take it slow, to be patient. Training me almost. Rick indulging me and encouraging me to be as horny as any 20 year old would. Rick knew I had several loads in me in a given night. Why wait for the first?

I now rode the pleasure that Rick's bobbing mouth and throat were now giving me. Dad's eyes were cast down too, watching my thick son dick and his reporting officer's talented mouth quickly milking me.

"You're beautiful to watch, son," my father now whispered in my ear. Just us, something Rick probably couldn't hear. That excited me. "And Rick's right, buddy. You'd make a great officer."

I turned and like magic our mouths met. Tongues connecting a second before I started cumming. I shot hard and heavy into Rick Caldwell's craw. He not only swallowed greedily but kept working me to get the dribbles out of me.

"Goddamn," I muttered when Dad finally pulled back.

"Need a minute?" Dad asked. I knew his need was getting more urgent. And Rick had now turned his attention to my father, his chief. Licking along the thick tool that matched mine.

"Yeah," I replied. "Just a sec." I knew I should cool off completely, but I couldn't keep my eyes off these two men.

Rick sucked some more then went back to teasing mode. I don't know why he was doing this to Dad while he went right to sucking me off. But it was hot to watch. Rick finally turned to me. "You up for shaving me down in a bit, Junior?" He ran his hands openly along my father's smooth abdomen. "Get me competition ready?"

"God, yes," I said.

Dad chuckled. "Drives my boy crazy, doesn't it?" he said, looking at me.

I blushed. I don't know why I was embarrassed of the fact but I was.

Rick grinned, seeming to enjoy seeing my shy side. "Junior's gonna be SO worked up after tomorrow afternoon, he might even let us fuck him." Since going to college, I'd gotten into more of a top kick with these guys. Rick and I liked to have playful arguments about that, but he'd just shake his head and said it was a phase for me, that I just needed to prove something.

Rick never felt like he had anything to prove, at least in bed, and Dad was increasingly very open and flexible.

"How long has it been, Junior?" Rick teased, standing up and undoing his utility belt. "You let any of those college coaches sweet talk their way into your hot jock hole?"

Dad laughed. He was enjoying this. "Drew's been a monk up at school," he chimed in. "So he says."

Rick's blue eyes lit up as he pulled up one uniform shoe to a nearby chair to take off, then the other. "Is that right? Well, it's a whole weekend of bodybuilding, buddy," he said to me. "I'm pretty sure you're gonna get laid." It wasn't clear from his words whether he meant just him and Dad, or some other guy. Maybe for Dad's sake he kept it ambiguous, though I knew Rick liked to fool around and encouraged me to get my rocks off when I could.

"Come on, Rick," Dad complained. "Don't corrupt the poor boy."

Rick smirked. "Junior doesn't need me to do any corrupting. I've never met a dude so wired for big muscle."

Dad gave an exasperated smile. He knew his fellow cop was right. Fer christsake, I'd first come out to Dad when he discovered cum-crusted bodybuilding mags in my bedroom. He now turned to me and I could see a lot of emotion in his face, with the lust that had been building. "I know I keep a short leash on ya, Drew. But you're 20 now... you're your own man."

I didn't know if I was gonna take advantage of Dad's implicit offer. Or if I'd even have a chance to. Rick Caldwell had some wild talk sometimes, but the reality didn't always live up to it. I felt strangely touched by the idea of Dad letting me go off for some fun here.

I turned to Rick, "Why don't you get on the bed?" I asked, almost ordered. "No... leave the uniform on." His cock was already poking out of his zipper but it had been a while since I'd experienced a uniform scene.

The request made Rick smile. He gave a mock salute, "Aye aye, Junior." I watched as he got on, lying back, his big muscle body making the mattress sink. I had confidence in my father, but he'd have a hard time winning his division. Rick would have no problem winning his.

I climbed on, mounting his reclined, clothed body and meeting him for a kiss. Dad still didn't know what I had in mind but he stroked his cock and stepped closer to the bed. He told me he never thought he had a voyeur side until he first watched me and Rick fuck. I made out with the cop and pawed the muscled body before I pulled back and looked at my father.

"Just take it easy, Dad, OK?" I said. "It's been a year and a half."

"Yep," Dad answered in his deep voice.

"Fuck, Junior," I heard Rick say. I looked back into his handsome mug. He now whispered to me, almost mouthed the word. "He's missed this, you know?"

I felt bad, but any misgiving were pushed aside as I felt my father's strong hands run my hamstrings and over my bare buns. Then I felt a cool drizzle of lube and his warm finger press it into me.

"He's good at this right?" Rick said as he watched me get into my dad's prep work. The man was kneeling beside me and Rick. I'd alternate between kissing the cop and just enjoying the fingering.

Finally, I was mid-kiss when Dad stretched his muscled body on top of mine and guided his prick to my tight ring. He had the force to work me open, but he didn't rush it. Just steady prodding at my defenses, and once he entered me slow mini thrusts to open me up.

This was incredible. Getting fucked by Dad in the first time in a while. Getting past my stubborn top-only phase. And being there with Rick while I did.

Dad's thrusts were getting more vigorous, more athletic. I could feel the smoothness of his torso against my bare back as he fucked. The man had a hell of a lot of power in him, and Rick and I both gazed into each other's eyes in a feedback loop of horniness. Me getting off on him seeing the incestuous mating and him egging me on.

"Hold on a sec," I finally said. Dad's pumping stopped and he held his body still against mine while he softly kissed my neck.

"You OK, son?" he asked. I could tell from his voice he SO wanted to fuck to completion right then.

"Pull back," I instructed. As he did, I pulled back enough to give Rick enough room for what I was gonna ask. "Flip over officer," I urged.

Rick got the message, pulling down his uniform trousers all the way, his belt clinging and his prick jerking hard. But I didn't have long to see it. Already the big man was squirming to maneuver to a face down position.

Dad figured out what I was angling for and already was smearing lube on to my cock, adding some extra.

I was getting impatient now, and I reached down to guide my boner into Rick's muscle ass. He gave a soft grunt as I found and penetrated his cop hole. I should have gone easier, I knew, but Rick sensed my need and wanted this too.

Already my jock body was collapsing onto his meatier one, fucking deeper into his ass while I felt my dad cover tightly from behind, his own cop dick finding my entrance naturally and boring back in easily.

A sandwich threeway fuck isn't easy to get a rhythm on, and ours wasn't perfect. It was our first, in fact. But Dad did the driving, his hips and ass piledriving that meaty cock deep into me, jamming it against my throbbing prostate and pushing me into Rick, too.

I heard Dad's rumble of orgasm first and the idea he was shooting inside me had me nutting too. My body spasmed as I gave it up and simultaneously accepted Dad's load deep inside.

"Nice, Drew," my father whispered and slowly eased his body off mine."

I now worried it all been too hard on Rick, but as I rolled off, I saw him turn on his side, finally unbuttoning his uniform shirt and peeling it off his kevlar. His prick was angry red and it took me a second to realize the tip was wet.

"You fuckers," he laughed. "I don't know the last time I had a load fucked out of me like that."

"As long as I don't have to sleep in the wet spot," Dad deadpanned.

Rick grinned, peeling down his trousers, down those tree trunk legs and kicking them off. "I think Junior usually takes the middle spot," Rick said.

I got up off the bed. I'd gotten off twice now, in the span of twenty minutes, and I now felt more than a little drained. "I'll take it," I said. "Gladly." My dad was circling around the king bed to step up to me. I was used to the way his fur would get wet with sweat during sex but now the dewy perspiration rolled down smooth muscle.

"That was amazing kiddo," he said. "Thank you."

We kissed softly. We got so absorbed in our making out that I didn't feel Rick's presence until he placed a hand on both of our backs.

"I love watching you guys," he said.

I turned and leaned down to kiss Rick now, and Dad then had his turn.

"OK if we take a rain check on the shave down?" Rick asked. "There should be enough time tomorrow right?"

Dad felt up Rick's front. "You just got some stubble," he observed. "Shouldn't take as long for Drew to do his thing."

Dad rinsed off first, and then while Rick hopped in the shower, I applied the aloe to Dad's body. It was sexual and intimate, but the orgasms had taken the edge off and I could enjoy the act in all its sensuality. Dad and were both chubbed by shy of fully erect.

"You're killing it, Chief," Rick said as he towelled off. I still had to pinch myself that I had both these amazing muscle men to play around with. "You're gonna blow 'em away on stage tomorrow."

"We'll see," Dad said, that earlier nervousness and doubt creeping into his voice again.

The younger cop hung his towel on the hook. "You ever think of competing, Junior?" he asked.

"His body's perfect, Caldwell," Dad interjected. My father had an embarrassed look as he turned to me. "You should do what makes you happy, buddy, but I mean... you're fucking perfect." His voice cracked in a serious tone. "And any one of those muscle heads walking around this weekend would be lucky to make it with you."

Rick patted my back and winked in a conspiratorial way. "Chief's a big softie. But he's right. You are looking extra studly these days." He turned to Dad. "They looking for some extra tall recruits at the Academy, Chief?"

Dad grinned and nodded. "If that's what the boy wants to do... I'd say so." My father held my gaze and then winked, patting my on the shoulder before going back into the main part of our room.

Somehow, unbelievably, I had a fully hard cock once more.

"You want another crack at my ass, Junior?" Rick asked quietly.

It was tempting. But I needed a break, and I knew waiting would make it all the better. "Tomorrow, OK?"" I asked.

The big cop reached down and gave my dick a quick tug. "You got it. A celebration after I win, maybe?"

"Definitely," I said. I knew Rick would win, all right.

"All right, Junior, let's get some rest... big day tomorrow."

"Yes, Officer," I said and followed him back into the bedroom.

#drakestories

247 notes · View notes

gumdytoonsen · 1 month

Text

Thank you AKIRA

Hello everyone, Draw Goku as a tribute to Akira Toriyama, the creator of Dragon Ball, this Anime will mark our childhood for everyone around the world.

Since my beginnings, I drew cell when I was a 13-year-old child. I was also a fan of this anime. I saw it on Cartoon Network in the TOONAMI block. I LIKED ITS GOKU TRILOGY LIKE:

DRAGON BALL DRAGON BALL Z DRAGON BALL GT DRAGON BALL Z KAI AND DRAGON BALL SUPER

I saw it with my family too. My friends who were the community of artists before I was friendly with them also to the loved, respected and talented community but I was betrayed by the Hated, Sick and Toxic community.

Well, it also has its Original merchandise in Japan, others are pirated merchandise that it sells in flea markets in all Latin American countries such as:

Figures and Toys Posters Stickers Keychains Tshirts Sweaters albums Cups Teddies and card games

I had my Goku poster and keychain and so did my aunt Nicole, well we missed them.

But there are fans who artists are loved and hated like:

Tablos, the Lolcows of the Spanish Internet, is the creator of the Fan Fiction Dragon Ball AF WAS FOUND

There are Fan Ficts or Fictions made by Fans published on Wattpad some are Good Others are bad like:

Dragon Ball Fran Fictions: Goku X Annita Goku Goku Vs Kratos Goku Vs Marvel and DC SuperHeroes Vegata vs Jesus What would happen if Goku got into other universes? And what would happen if Goku betrayed the world? And Goku locked in the time room

Also Old and New Parody Videos Published on YOUTUBE

The other one is Too Hated is Chris Chan The creator of the fan fiction between sonic and pokemon Sonichu was also remembered for doing LOVE QUEST WITH HIS OWN MOTHER How Ungracious I Use The Cursed Word with Kamehameha called CURSEYEHAMEHA

Well The Otakus And their community is hurting By Crazy and toxic Genete but they have their own fandom that is already toxic because of toxic people and Trolls

They hurt the Mexican Spanish dubbing actors like:

the singer Josafat Espinoza And Vegeta's voice actor is Rene Garcia

For Their Fans who do Bullying on social networks and there are also Drawings made by fans published on social networks and more searched on Facebook, Google and All Social Networks

Well, 8 years ago Akira Torimaya paid tribute to Stan Lee, the creator of Marvel and DC superheroes, for his taste in Japanese manga and American Manga.

Well, on March 1, 2024, the Japan Hospital sent a message from its fans around the world and said:

Dear friends and partners.

We are deeply saddened to inform you that manga creator Akira Toriyama passed away on March 1 due to an acute subdural hematoma. He was 68 years old.

It is our deep regret that he still had several works in full creation with great enthusiasm, furthermore, he would have many more things to achieve.

However, he has left many manga titles and works of art to this world. Thanks to the support of so many people around the world, he has been able to continue his creative activities for over 45 years. We hope that Akira Toriyama's unique world of creation will continue to be loved by everyone for a long time.

We inform you of this sad news, thanking you for your kindness during his life.

The funeral was celebrated with his family and very few of his relatives. Following his wishes for peace of mind, we respectfully inform you that we will not accept flowers or condolence gifts. visits, offerings and others. Likewise, we ask that you refrain from conducting interviews with his family.

The future plan for the memorial meeting is not decided, we will inform you when it is confirmed. We deeply appreciate your understanding and support as always.

Thank you Akira Torimaya for his anime that marked the childhood of his fans from all over the world.

Thank you for your Dragon Ball Trilogy

For everything and those of Mas

THANK YOU VERY MUCH AKIRA TORIYAMA

AKIRA TORIYAMA 1955-2024

#akira toriyama #dragon ball #dragon ball z #rip akira toriyama #DBZ #dragon ball super #goku #fanarts #2024

23 notes · View notes

queermentaldisaster · 2 months

Text

“The Hunt Is My Muse”

Chapter six, guys! Now, I did have to cut out a good chunk of the dialogue, because otherwise this would have to be two or three separate chapters and i just wasn't doing that. Now, this chapter is 1,928 words, so uh...be forewarned.

Tags: @sans-chara @spicyspicyliving @meowmeowriley @forestshadow-wolf @bringinsexybackk69

Small cw for very minor and brief flashbacks + a near panic attack.

Chapter under the cut.

Chapter Six: We'll Never Surrender

No, no, this couldn’t be happening. Everything was fine only an hour ago.

They’d gotten the information from Valeria and disarmed one missile, and now…

He watched as Graves shot Soap in the arm. The panther within him snarled, as he ducked behind the vehicle. “Go, Johnny! Get out of there!” Soap barely moved, and a growl bubbled up in Ghost’s throat. “Soap, go!” The snarl in his voice propelled Soap, who shoved the dead Shadow off himself and hopped over the nearby concrete barrier. He heard Soap curse and then shift as Ghost ran. He was quick, quiet, and undetectable. He managed to get into the town, just as the Shadows began flooding in.

He managed to get halfway to the church, determined to wait for Soap, if he was still alive. Then, his radio crackled to life. “This is Bravo 7-1, in the blind…How copy?” Ghost’s heart pounded. ‘Johnny’s alive.’ “Ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?” Ghost stabbed a Shadow in the neck before answering Soap. “Soap, this is Ghost. How copy?” There wasn’t a response. Ghost looked out the window, plotting his next movement. “Johnny?” He questioned again. “Johnny, how copy?” His voice gained a hint of worry.

“Solid.” Soap’s voice came over the radio. Ghost breathed a sigh of relief, as he made his way towards the tunnels under the city, the ones that led to the church. “Thought we lost you. You injured?” It was taking every inch of his mental strength to keep from shifting, but Soap’s voice seemed to soothe the storm as he let out a snarky response. “I’m not a medic.” That made Ghost snicker. “Tell me something I don’t know. Now, keep your blood in, you’ll need every drop.” He heard Soap sigh. “Thanks for the tip. Where are ye?” Ghost hummed. “There’s a church. I’m heading to it. Let’s RV there. You’ll need to improvise to survive.” He waited for a minute before he heard Soap speak again. “Graves and Shadow are on a killin’ spree.” Ghost nodded. “Lookin for Hassan.” Soap grunted. “Hassan and us.”

“Advise you move interior if you’re not already. It’s good cover.” Ghost said, and he heard Soap groan. “No joy, door’s locked.” Ghost huffed, rolling his eyes. ‘Has he really never done this before?’ He thought. “Look for supplies, things you can make tools with. Welcome to guerrilla warfare…” He heard Soap’s grunt of confirmation before the Scot drew in a sharp breath. “Creepin’ Jesus...” He muttered. “What are you seein?” Ghost asked softly as he snuck past some Shadows, heading straight for the church.

“A bloodbath.” Soap responded. Ghost sighed. “Watch your ass. You’ve got exactly zero allies down there.” He heard Soap’s raised eyebrow. “We’re friends, no?” Ghost chuckled. “We’re teammates. Friendship’s not in the field manual, Johnny.” Soap let out an overexaggerated sigh. “Neither is mask-making…” That made Ghost snicker as he got into the church. Then Soap spoke again. “Poor bastard. Found a rope, LT.” Ghost nodded, sitting against the wall at the top of the church. “That’s a start. Keep lookin.” He looked down at his hands, spotting the claws and felt his hands shake. He let out a breath, and then Soap’s voice cut through the silence. “Broke off a fan blade.”

Ghost smiled. “Tie off the blade with the rope and pry open the door.” He heard Soap huff. “Sounds like you’ve done this before.” He murmured. Ghost sighed. “Years of practice…” He murmured, looking down at his hands, the phantom sensations of the maggots crawling on his bare skin coming back for a minute. Soap spoke again. “Busted the fan blade.” Ghost hummed. “Get you through the door?”

“Affirmative.” Soap confirmed. Ghost let out a breath. “Good. Stay on the hunt, there’ll be more where that came from.” Soap went quiet again, and Ghost stared down at his hands, trying to will the claws to retract. They stubbornly refused and Ghost snarled, bringing his hands up to his head. His claws dug into the mask, cracking it slightly. It felt unbearable when Johnny went quiet. The panther wanted to take control, to run through the city, killing everyone in its path until it was sure Johnny was safe. He wasn’t safe unless they could hear or see him.

He let out a groan. ‘What is he doing to me? I can’t ever think straight around him anymore! It’s like he’s completely taken over my entire heart…’ He whined, burying his face in his knees. He hasn’t felt this helpless when it came to the panther since Roba.

That thought alone damn near sets him off, and he has to talk himself down. “Johnny’s not like Roba. He’s not gonna hurt me, or use me if he finds out I’m a shifter.” He whispered, and that seemed to calm him down enough so he wouldn’t shift right there. He takes deep breaths, and then hears the radio crackle back to life. “Found a headlamp. Not too far from its…previous owner.” Soap said, and Ghost forced himself to sound like he hadn’t just damn near had a breakdown. “Good. Careful with it. Can light your way, but attract attention.”

“Oowf…” Soap muttered. “What’s the latest?” Ghost asked, concerned. “Mercs are killin’ everythin’ in their path.” Soap responded, his voice sharp and harsh. “War crimes…” Ghost muttered. “Makes me want ta commit a few war crimes of mah own.” Soap spat. Ghost growled. “Tyranny. It won’t stand.”

“Think we’ll get the green light tae go after these guys?” Soap asked, and Ghost rolled his eyes as he set up his rifle. “No more green lights, Johnny. We’re on our own.” Soap went silent for a minute as Ghost scanned the streets with the scope of his rifle. “What about Captain Price?” Soap asked. Ghost sighed sadly. “Price isn’t here, is he? The old man can’t bail us out, not this time.”

Soap was quiet for another moment before he spoke again. “Ah trust the Captain, if he knew, he’d be here.” Ghost chuckled, a bitter sound. “Be careful who you trust, Sergeant. People you know can hurt you the most.” He said. Soap’s chuckle was heard over the radio. “Good advice Lt, I wanna be like you when I grow up.” That…that scared Ghost. To even think of someone else as broken as he was, much less Johnny? To imagine Soap’s light snuffed out by the shit Ghost had gone through? No. “You want to be better than me, Johnny…” Soap must’ve understood how serious that was, because he said; “I will be.”

“Good man.” Ghost said. Soap huffed. “Think ah’ll live that long?” Ghost went dead silent for a minute. ‘I pray you do, Johnny.’ “Probably not.” He said out loud. Soap chuckled. “Such faith in me.” And then Soap went silent.

Ghost let his claws tap on the concrete of the church’s windowsill, a sound inaudible to anyone outside the church. He let out a breath, waiting for Soap to speak again.

“Did you see the caged dog?” He heard Soap say. Ghost huffed. “Big geezer. If he barks, shoot him and repo quickly. Don’t get compromised.” Soap rolled his eyes. “Ye are stone cold, Simon.” Ghost’s heart fluttered at the sound of his name coming from Soap’s lips. But, he covered up his elation. “What ‘as two legs and bleeds?” he asked, and Soap groaned. “Don’t tell me…”

“‘Alf a dog.” Ghost said, smirking underneath the mask. Soap’s annoyed breath was audible, even over comms. “Ah asked ya not ta tell me.” Ghost snickered. “Gimme a sit-rep.” He ordered. Soap immediately did so. “Outside. Gated alley.” Ghost nodded. “Stick to the edges and stay low.”

“Copy.” Soap murmured. After a moment of thought, Ghost spoke up. “You may get a brag rag for this.” Soap scoffed. “A medal?” Ghost hummed in confirmation. “Chest candy.” He could hear the eye roll from Soap. “That’s all rubbish.” Ghost shrugged. “You said you wanted a win. Congratulations, you’re a winner.”

“Away ‘n bile yer heid!” Soap exclaimed and Ghost rolled his eyes. “English, MacTavish.” Soap huffed. “Sorry sir, let me translate. Go fuck yourself.” Ghost chuckled. “Much better. Now, the church is on the north side of the city. I’ve set up a sniper position in the church tower. Find your way there, and you just may make it.” Soap made a grunt of affirmation and then went quiet.

Ghost kept giving Soap tips, talking with him, and just generally keeping him company.

Then Soap spoke up again. “I’m in the coffee shop.” Ghost grinned. “Get us a tea.” Soap groaned. “Fuckin Brits…you’re gonna owe me for this.” Ghost chuffed. “Why?” Soap gekkered. “We’re fixin’ each other’s problems.”

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask…take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I doubt that.” He heard Soap mutter, and Ghost let go of the button, frowning underneath his mask. He wasn’t pretty. The years of war and torture had made sure of that. But he’d heard once that confidence was key, so he always pretended. Pretended not to care, pretended he was prettier than he was, pretended that he was an emotionless bastard. But somehow…Soap was breaking his masks, literally and metaphorically. And he felt better than he had in years, just from hearing Soap talk, from Soap existing in his general vicinity. Maybe…he could finally be…Simon, at least around Soap.

So Ghost kept guiding, talking to, and joking around with Soap. Of course, the man’s luck ran out, because the moment he tried to open one of the shop doors at the church plaza, a Shadow opened it and would’ve killed him, if Ghost hadn’t immediately moved his scope and shot the Shadow in the head. More ran out, trying to surround the shop, and they all got cut down by Ghost. ‘You’re not gonna fuckin touch my Johnny.’ He thought. “Holy hell, Ghost, was that you?” Soap asked.

Ghost scoffed, as he got up from his position. “Who else? Now go!” He descended from the church tower, only to find a bunch of Shadows. “Gimme a bloody break…Ghost, how copy?” Soap’s voice crackled over the radio. Ghost pulled out his handgun. “Johnny, got company in the church and they’re not here for forgiveness! Get to the steps, I’ll be there!”

“Copy, Lt.” Soap said, and Ghost immediately turned and ran for the exit, firing at the Shadows. He ran out and heard Soap. “Ghost!” He looked forward and broke out into a grin under his mask. “Soap!” He exclaimed, shooting two pursuing Shadows and hopping over the gate in one movement, causing Soap to freeze and stare at him.

“We need a vehicle, on me! Stay sharp, they know we're here and they know it's us. They'll send more.” Ghost said, and Soap nodded, seeming to snap out of his stupor. They began clearing the Shadows, running for the nearest vehicle, which was a pickup truck, who’s previous owner had been…disposed of. Once they climbed in, Ghost looked at Johnny with the proudest look on his face. “Alright Johnny, you made it.” Soap did that cocky grin that Ghost just loved. “We made it, Lt.” Then, Shadows began shooting at the truck. Soap began shooting at them, and in a moment of impulse, Ghost backed up and ran them over.

“That’s one way o’ doin’ it!” Then Soap’s eyes locked onto a Shadow out the driver’s side. “Get back!” Ghost instinctually leaned back, and watched as Soap shot the Shadow. “Thanks.” Ghost muttered. Soap looked at Ghost and nodded. “Drive, I’ll cover us!” And with that, Ghost drove off.

27 notes · View notes

panicatthediaz · 5 months

Text

Can you feel it?

What is this? A brand new fic for @eddiemonth? And so soon after?? (shut up this feels soon)

This is day 06, crush, and is in the same continuity as day 5. Named after Mansionair's Astronaut (Something About Your Love), that like. Please listen to them. They are a whole vibe, I love their music.

Warnings: None, this is just even more fluff. Extremely sappy get together. Steddie. I should start calling this section, like. tags or smth.

Wordcount: 2968

If he were to be honest with himself, Eddie hadn't expected to keep this monster hunting party in his life, not for long. He expected everyone to go on their way, while he was fumbling just to get out of the town.

Well, some people did go their own way. Older Byers was off to college in California with Argyle, after some extensive talk with his family and with Nancy, and Nancy herself was off in Boston.

But everyone else? Well, the kids had to finish high school before going anywhere, and Robin had decided to take a gap year that was about to end. And Steve…

Between joint recoveries and sharing almost the same group of people (and eventually truly having all the same friends), they had spent a lot of time together. They had become friends, good friends, not necessarily by choice, but the truth was that Eddie wouldn't change it for the world.

But sometimes, it was nice to just… exist. To be able to not think about the feelings he’d realized that were growing not too long ago. About how, even though he’d only noticed them recently, the feelings hadn’t been really new. About how it looked reciprocated, sometimes.

Eddie expected to hear about Steve’s plans to get out of town any day now, maybe tag along with Robin, so why do anything about the something that was brewing, right?

Deep down, Eddie knew Steve wouldn’t leave before the kids’ senior year started. At the earliest. Eddie felt pretty much the same already, after knowing them for only a little over a year. According to Robin, they did have that effect somehow.

(Something about how young they all were to have been at the whole supernatural thing for years.)

After dropping El and Will back home, he’d driven himself to a secluded little clearing, having to go the long way around so he’d actually be able to drive his van into it. But it was worth it, it’d always been worth it.

Eddie grabbed a few of the blankets stashed at the back of his van and threw them on top of it before climbing up himself. Setting up his little makeshift bed up there was a quick process; a couple of blankets to make the roof a little more comfortable, and the rest bunched together into a pillow.

It wasn’t particularly good, but it was part of his summer routine at this point, so he settled down, lying on the roof of his van. He watched the clear, evening summer sky fade into night, watching the stars come out slowly and then all at once as the animal sounds faded and changed to accompany the sky.

Some birds — owls, if he had to guess — and bats were flying overheard, occasionally cutting his vision of the stars and changing the tracks of his thoughts; the song he’d been working on, the campaign Will wanted to run for Hellfire next, Robin’s entirely too chaotic packing process, and how that girl might have surpassed him in terms of organizational chaos. At least Eddie could find his shit in half the time it had taken her to find the shoes she was taking with her.

The crunch of steps on fallen branches drew him out of his thoughts, making him turn in its direction.

“Jesus, how far is this place,” Eddie heard in a very familiar grumble. Steve was closer than he probably expected to be, and it didn’t take long before Eddie could see him on the treeline. “Uh… Hi.”

“Hi,” Eddie returned, waving at him from where he lay with a grin. “Funny seeing you here.”

Steve rolled his eyes and walked closer. He was wearing some ridiculous yellow shorts and what looked like an old NASCAR shirt, color and design faded with time. It was a little different from what Eddie was used to; more relaxed, like he didn’t have anyone to impress. Which was good, Eddie didn’t need to be impressed by style.

(Eddie knew, objectively, that Steve genuinely enjoyed the polos and all that, but it was still nice to see him in something else. Something softer.)

“What are you doing out here?” Steve asked once he was close to the van, just enough to still be able to see Eddie.

“Looking for Scorpius,” he stated simply, gesturing for Steve to come up. While Steve climbed to the roof of the van, Eddie adjusted the pillow of blankets so they could lie side by side. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was expecting to find you in the trailer,” Steve started, leaning back on top of the blankets on his elbows with a frown on his face. “Wayne directed me over here.” Steve looked around, frowning even harder when he glanced at the ground. “You said you’re looking for scorpions?”

“Scorpius, not scorpions,” Eddie corrected softly, turning back to the stars. “The constellation.”

Steve let out a soft “Oh,” turning to glance at the sky before lying down and making himself comfortable.

Eddie had the vague knowledge that Scorpius was closer to the horizon line, but he’d have to drive up to Hop’s old cabin and the nearby hill to actually look for it, and he just… didn’t want to go that far.

(Didn't really want to be looking over all of Hawkins.)

“What’s the story?” Steve asked after a couple of minutes spent in silence. When Eddie turned to look, Steve was already watching him, his little smile illuminated by the moon. After a beat, he added, “Constellations have those, don’t they?”

Eddie nodded, struggling a little to find his words with the way Steve was looking at him. “It’s uh…” He cleared his throat and turned back to the sky. “It’s the scorpion that killed Orion.”

He could still feel Steve’s eyes on him, waiting for more.

“Orion was a hunter, the best one humanity had to offer,” Eddie started, gesturing to their surroundings as if it could encompass every person in the world. “But he was just a human, you know? And if even the gods of ancient Greece were flawed, imagine how bad a human could be.”

He glanced at Steve, finding all of his attention still focused on him.

“His flaws are not really the point, though.” He shook his head, continuing the story. “At some point in his life, Orion was hunting with Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and wild animals, and… Well,” he grimaced, “He claimed to be able to hunt every animal on Earth.”

“To the goddess of the hunt?” Steve questioned with that particular tone he had when he thought something was stupid. “Rather arrogant of him.”

“Yeah, but Artemis was fond of him.” Steve raised an eyebrow at that, but it took Eddie a moment to realize how his words could be taken. “Not like that,” he added, chuckling. “Artemis was a virgin goddess, none of that.”

Steve hummed, his expression betraying his surprise. “Good for her.”

Eddie blinked at Steve, at this tone of awe that he had.

“Where does the scorpion come in?” Steve asked, a little furrow appearing between his brow that Eddie wanted smooth out, though he had a story to finish.

“Right,” Eddie sighed out, turning once again to the stars. “Gaia, the personification of the Earth itself, didn’t like Orion’s claim.” He paused, then added, “She’s the mother of all life, so.” He gestured nonsensically upwards, finishing his story with as much a deadpan tone as he could muster. “She sent a giant scorpion to kill him.”

“A giant—” Steve burst out laughing, shaking his head in some kind of attempt to regain his composure. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—”

“It’s kind of a silly conclusion?” Eddie asked with a smile on his face as well as in his voice. Steve nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Greek mythology is kind of… Dramatic, like that,” he explained with a shrug. “Orion’s hubris got him killed by a giant scorpion—” Steve snorted, but reined himself in quickly— “And they were both raised to the sky as constellations as a warning against humanity’s arrogance.”

Steve hummed, gaze unfocused when Eddie looked at him. “Where are they, then?”

“Uh…” Eddie blinked and turned to the sky to blink some more. “Orion is not visible this time of the year, and Scorpius is closer to the horizon,” he said, raising his arm to point in the general direction he remembered the constellation being.

Steve hummed, but didn’t say anything, letting the silence and the warm evening air envelop them. Eddie expected it to grow awkward, for Steve to say something, for himself to end up fidgeting. Instead, it was easy to just exist together like this, lying side by side and watching the night sky.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, some indeterminate time later. Eddie could feel Steve move about, slowly as to not risk falling off the side, and settle on his side, holding himself up on his elbow. “El was all…” He gestured toward his face. “All frowny, and she only does that when she’s worried. Dustin also said you seemed down.”

Eddie sighed, wishing those kids paid just a little less attention. “I’m good,” he said, keeping his tone light. “Just thinking, you know?”

“About?”

“What happens now, I guess?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question. “We got a couple more practice sessions before Jeff and Arnie are going back to college.”

“Gareth’s not going anywhere out of state, though, right?” Steve asked with a thoughtful little frown that Eddie couldn’t resist smoothing out with a finger this time. It earned him a soft laugh and a smack to his hand. “You guys can keep Corroded Coffin going?”

Eddie shrugged as much as he could while lying down. He tried that once, making it on his own, but it didn’t seem as worth it now.

“Think I’d rather not split the band,” he said, grimacing and knowing that Steve would pick up the story he wasn’t telling.

“So,” Steve drawled, eyes narrowed at Eddie like he’d be able to figure out whatever was going on in his head. “The plan is just to wait?”

Honestly, Eddie hated that idea, but what else could Corroded Coffin do? “Sure.” Steve eyes narrowed further, going unfocused again. “What?”

“The kids will be starting their junior year,” he stated.

Eddie hummed to let Steve know he was listening, but he had no idea where the guy was going with this.

“You should come to Indianapolis with me,” he announced.

Eddie blinked at Steve, processing his words for a moment. The offer seemed to come out of nowhere. He expected Steve to leave Hawkins at some point, he’d been preparing for that news, and now it came with an offer to tag along?

“I don’t really have any plans yet,” Steve continued, probably taking Eddie’s silence as hesitation. “We’d have to look into places, and Indianapolis is just an hour away, but it should be enough for a fresh start, right?”

Eddie nodded, a little numbly. “You, uh…” He shook his head to dislodge his surprise. “I think Gareth’s going to community college in the city, actually.”

“Is he, now?” Steve raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed and not surprised.

“Right, you two talk a lot now.” It was still rather amusing that the two of them hung out so much, even without Eddie. “Will?”

“Of course it’s about Will,” Steve scoffed, waving a hand in a flourish. “It’s why he picked Indianapolis. But don’t change the subject,” he added with a smack to Eddie’s arm.

“Alright, alright!” Eddie laughed, rubbing his arm. He’d have rolled away from Steve if it didn’t mean rolling off the roof of the van. “I guess Indianapolis is pretty good…”

Steve beamed at him, a smile he’d been seeing more often as the time passed. Usually, Steve was being a little shit when he smiled like that, but sometimes, he just seemed… happy.

“You could, I don’t know, teach kids how to play the guitar.”

That made Eddie laugh, surprised at the suggestion. Not that he necessarily disliked it.

“Who’d even let me?” He asked. “Maybe I’ll find work at a record store, that seems more likely.”

“If you want to, I’m sure you could find something.” Steve shrugged, that grin not fading from his expression. “Who says you can’t do both, anyway?”

And… Well, Steve had a point. Maybe he could find a store that offered lessons?

“Why are you asking me to go to Indianapolis with you?” The question was asked before Eddie even processed that it was something he wanted to know. He grimaced as soon as it was out. “Not that I don’t want to, god knows I wanted to be out of this town three years ago now, but just— I thought you might tag along with Robin?”

Steve’s expression softened, a serene smile replacing the wide grin. “I thought about it. Robin’s going to Indianapolis University anyway, though, and…” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I think I’d like you there too.”

“You think?” Eddie questioned with a raised brow. It was easier to tease and joke than really look into that sparkle of mirth in Steve’s eyes and hope it meant what he wanted it to mean.

Steve shook his head, sending his hair all over the place. “I know. Got used to your noise, Munson.”

“Well, I’m making your life interesting, so you’re welcome.”

They were both smiling when Eddie finally let himself look Steve in the eye, finally relaxed enough even though he hadn’t escaped thinking about Steve, or his actual presence. It was fine. There some tentative plans to get out of Hawkins, together, and maybe Corroded Coffin would forever be a high school band that didn’t really go anywhere — Eddie was only starting to be okay with that idea, though — but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something else with music.

Steve laid back down on the van after a moment of silence, turning his gaze to the sky. Like this, they were touching pretty much from shoulder to knee, and Eddie was trying not to move too much, conscious of the warmth radiating from Steve.

Steve, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have the same hang-ups, nudging Eddie’s hand until he could take it in his own.

“This okay?” He asked softly, not turning his head and not seeing Eddie already looking at him. Eddie squeezed his hand and intertwined their fingers as response. “I wasn’t planning on talking to you about Indianapolis tonight, you know?” His admission was soft, barely above the ambiance of the woods at night. “I was just gonna keep you company.”

“I’m glad you did.” Eddie let himself take in Steve’s face and what freckles he could see in the dark before turning away. “Easier to think I can actually get out of here when I have a tentative plan.”

“You can, Eddie,” Steve said, firmly squeezing his hand. “I meant it, I’d really like if you came to Indianapolis with me.”

He could feel Steve’s eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, and he refused to loosen the hold on his hand. Eddie sighed, turning to face Steve’s small, determined frown.

“Sometimes,” he started, hesitating before pulling their joined hands closer. “I kinda wish you were still some degree of asshole.” Steve frowned, ready to interject, but Eddie continued before he could. “‘Cause it would make getting over this ridiculous crush so much easier.”

Steve pulled their hands closer to himself this time, and Eddie could see him pursing his lips. He’d been paying too much attention, enough to know this was Steve trying to rein in one of those rare, goofy grins that had been one of the things that made Eddie fall in the first place.

“What if,” Steve started, slowly letting the grin take hold, as he started absently playing with the one ring Eddie forgot to take off before climbing up the van. “I don’t want you getting over this ridiculous crush?”

Eddie blinked at him — he felt like he’d done that a lot tonight, almost constantly surprised by Steve despite how close they’d gotten. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t seen this coming, too close to see what, eventually, might become obvious in hindsight.

“You mean that?”

Steve’s grin came out, full force, in the face of Eddie’s soft tone. He slowly brought Eddie’s hand closer and pressed an oh so soft kiss to his knuckles.

“I mean it.”

Eddie didn’t really know what to say to all that, the smooth jerk knew it and could probably see the blush undoubtedly rising on his cheeks. But there was one thing that he needed to double check.

“You know I’m—”

“Asexual?” He filled in after Eddie cut himself short. “Yeah, I do.” Steve was back to messing with the ring on his hand, looking at it with an expression Eddie still hadn’t figured out. “And I think…” He paused, frowning a little. Eddie kind of wanted to bite him. “It might apply to me too?”

Eddie rolled closer to Steve and pressed a kiss to cheek, feeling the heat rising the longer he stayed there.

“Thanks for telling me,” he mumbled against Steve’s cheek. He pressed another quick kiss before settling back down. “Feels good to know, doesn’t it?”

Steve’s laughter was light, giddy. He rolled onto Eddie this time, hugging him as close as possible.

“It really does.”

Eddie knew they would talk come morning, and they would define just what they wanted and were to each other. But for now, cuddling and laughing under the night sky with ridiculous Greek stories was all Eddie wanted to be doing.

#Stranger Things #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Steddie #Asexual Eddie Munson #Asexual Steve Harrington #eddiemonth #day 6 #WeresWriting #This got so sappy #and not at all what I was originally going for #I wanted a RWRB reference. Ended up sort of there anyway #(Orion is really only visible during winter I didn't know that)

46 notes · View notes

aeternal-nightmare · 4 months

Note

Do you ship Carter with anyone?

Like maybe Richard, Harley or Yog?

Or do you think he's aro/ace?

Thank you for the question!

Yea he's one of my favorite characters EVER and

Yes. First of all I ship him with NYARLATHOTEP. Here's one of my old arts with them. (I drew a lot of rantep arts a year ago actually) Honestly I think I must draw something new.... been thinking about it for some time already.

Carter x Richard is pretty good too...

AND JESUS CHRIST I THOUGHT ABOUT CARTER X YOG but haven't drawn anything! My bad.

P.S: To be honest he sure has some aro/ace vibes in canon so it makes a lot of sense too!

#cthulhu mythos #lovecraft #rantep #carter x pickman #randolph carter #nyarlathotep #richard pickman

29 notes · View notes

booklove22 · 10 months

Text

Nace Mutual Pining Wishlist

I’ve been thinking a lot about the next few episodes and how we’re going to have to deal with the people-who-shall-not-be-named plotline soon. And as much as I don’t want to see it and wish we weren’t wasting our LAST SEASON on this rude interruption to the Nace endgame, I do think the potential for ongoing romantic angst for Nace is actually really high and COULD be really rewarding if done right.

After the season 3 finale, I wrote about the angst I wanted to see and a lot of it still applies now. I’m rehashing some of that post here, but also adding in a few more things and refining others because of what we’ve seen in the first 3 episodes.

Before we get to that though – I need to explain my headspace and why I think we could actually get a lot out of high-quality Nace content out of these eps despite the other love interests.

It all rests on their last exchange and Nancy saying “I can’t go back” while Ace says “I can’t go forward” – which highlights one very important thing: they are in a different place than they were before the curse. Ace thinking they could go back to being friends and “manage” by shoving the feelings back down because they did it before just isn’t realistic. That only worked before because they both thought their feelings were one-sided. They didn’t have post-curse honeymoon plans; and confessions of years-long feelings; and jealousy admissions; and the most epic of first kisses between them when they were shoving those feelings down. So, I mean, no offense Ace – I see what you’re trying to do here, but to quote another TV show “you can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube.”

Which leads me to the belief/hope that what we are about to witness (the ick-factor of other love interests aside) could actually be a level of mutual pining like we’ve never seen before. Keep in mind this is purely a wish list on my part, but these are the things I’d love to see while we wait for the Nace pendulum to swing back in the right direction.

Mutual Pining Wishlist

The entire Drew Crew, but mainly Nancy and Ace, all dressed up for some event and having one of those silent "god he/she looks amazing" longing moments with their eyes.

A dance at this same event. THEY DESERVE A DANCE. Like where they didn’t intend to dance together but like somehow they awkwardly get pushed together and its just pure tension and awkwardness at first but bleeds into something comfortable and sweet

A "stuck somewhere together/in trouble together alone" episode to really ratchet up the tension to peak levels. Bonus points if they are tied or cuffed together. Jesus. But I’ll take anything where its literally just the two of them against the evil of the week.

Someone on Twitter mentioned this ages ago so I can't take credit but... Ace going "absolutely feral" on someone who tries to hurt Nancy. Honestly, now that the image is in my head, I can't shake it. Like he didn’t give up being with the love of his life just to lose her through some other means, you know? I want to see him scared. Then I want to see him absolutely FURIOUS AND VIOLENT.

I already mentioned Ace stitching Nancy up in another post but revisiting that here. The idea being that Nancy gets hurt or has to use her blood in a ritual and Ace uses his newly learned suturing skills to stitch her up. Think about how close they’d have to be. How he’d apologize if he was hurting her because “the people I do this on aren’t usually alive”…like a tension filled mirror image of the Sigil painting scene.

Nancy openly proud of Ace’s new job/expertise. Like I just feel like he would really want that praise from her. Even knowing that she never thought he was “lacking” (and I mean REALLY knowing that now), I still feel like he still has baggage about his own self worth.

Ace being the one to be there for Nancy on the anniversary of Kate’s death. Alternatively, maybe Ace’s mom dies (is that heart problem going to come back around???) and Nancy being there for him as the only other person in their friend group to know what its like to lose a mother. It would be SUCH an amazing bonding moment for them and really showcase how, curse aside, they are each other’s person no matter what the circumstance.

I don’t know, but I really need some sort of high school flashback now. It feels out of reach honestly. Or maybe a case takes them to Keane High at one point and the tension of knowing that’s where Ace first had feelings for her…like…cmon. GIVE IT TO ME.

And I mean….what would mutual pining be without a sharing a bed trope? Do I think they’ll go THAT far? No. But honestly, ever since Kennedy posted her “Season 4 emoji hints” tweet and it included a tent emoji…I’ve had an absurd amount of thoughts about the two of them somehow ending up in a sharing a tent situation. Maybe very survival driven. And it’s cold in Maine, you know, so maybe they also need to share a sleeping bag for body warmth. I’m probably way off but like…a girl can dream.

Please add more. I literally can’t stop thinking about Nace and I need the distraction of all the potential pining. Like I think we know there will be jealousy, but pining is where its really at...

#nace #cw nancy drew #nancy drew #nancy x ace #ace [redacted]

22 notes · View notes

snorlaxlovesme · 2 months

Text

Last Lines Challenge

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote or drew and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Tagged by @flurrin

(technically the last lines i wrote were the last 3ish sentences, but given this is original fiction I gave the beginning of the scene for minimal context)

“I liked it better when it was called ‘the Wipe’,” Gabrielle says, shoving a vitamin inside of a sardine with a little more force than necessary. The penguins didn’t get all their essential nutrients from the fish that Truman served them alone, so on alternating days, the penguin keepers had to stuff the fish with vitamins. Gabrielle and K had been doing it every day for the past week, but that had more to do with no other staff showing up to work. While K didn’t blame people for needing time to get their lives in order, she couldn’t say that she loved this part of her job. K rolled her eyes. “That’s just because you still want it to sound like it was intentional.” Gabrielle blew out a raspberry, trying to get her bangs out of her face without having to pull off her rubber gloves. “Not just that! Leap years are already a thing, this should have its own special name.” She let out another breath, her bangs fluttering before falling limply back in front of her eyes. “My cousin Martin was born on a leap year, you know. He’s only had like 4 actual birthdays. Now he’s going to have another identity crisis about his birthday every winter…” K didn’t mean to, but after a while she began to tune Gabrielle out, her co-worker’s rambling a comforting backdrop to the repetitive motions of using her thumb and forefinger to spread open a dead sardine’s little mouth and stuff a pill inside. Occasionally she’d catch herself looking at Gabrielle out of the corner of her eye, animatedly ranting about Leap Year stuff while her dark curls smacked her in the cheeks. They were almost long enough now to tuck behind her ears. K can recall just a few weeks ago (plus a year) when Gabrielle first got them cut, complaining the whole day about how her hairdresser cut them too short. “And it’s like, Jesus, Martin, could you be more self-absorbed—Hey are you even listening to me?”

anddd i tag @mykingdomforapen @elibean @smokeandjollyranchers and @ilarual

#plus its Leap Year themed! appropriate for today #tho this leap year is about a planet-wide memory wipe of a whole year from the world's consciousness

4 notes · View notes

ducklooney · 5 months

Note

5, 21, 22, 23 for asking and yes, what do you like to draw in terms of have you been passionate about ducks for a long time?

Oh, hi. Hmm…good questions, although you asked a little too much. Also, the questions have been changed under the ordinal letters of the alphabet rather than numbers, but never mind. I'm going!

5. (E) My blog started four and a half years ago (next year it will be five years since I've been on Tumblr), mostly out of dissatisfaction, and to join a new collective that has similar interests as me. Interestingly, I joined when it was Donald's 85th birthday. XD Yeah, I already enjoyed the Ducktales reboot back then (even though it disappointed me in a lot of things at the time), I was still sad that no one mentioned the other Duck media, especially when we talk about the comics, Quack Pack, The Legend of The Three Caballeros and I wanted to take that job into my own hands. So I posted various posts about other Donald Duck media and let me tell you, I succeeded in that. Unfortunately, due to numerous obligations related to the university and at home, there were times and often when I was away for a long time. Still, I'm grateful to the Ducktales reboot for reawakening my feelings of nostalgia and re-reading the Donald Duck comics I used to read when I was a little boy.

21. (U) Actually I am, but more that I am a Christian believer and that I believe in God the Creator, as well as in Jesus who saved us from our sins, as well as in the Holy Spirit. Sometimes I study and read the Bible and go to church. But I'm not a fanatical believer, plus I don't force anyone to believe what I believe. Everyone has the right to their own religion. But I don't like it when my faith is abused through bad mockery and attacks on being a believer.

22. (V) I don't know if you mean the person I love or me personally, but I will answer both. I like in a person who is very pleasant and kind, who likes to draw and respect others and someone who is close to me. And I like to draw, read, write, and sometimes ride my bike outside, when the weather is nice.

23. (W) I don't like it when someone copies me without asking me, without me being mentioned, I don't like it when they insult and when they lie, I especially don't like it when someone insults me in dirty ways, as well as abuses my name as something worst. And I don't like sweet-talking people, I don't like it when someone blocks me, just because we have different views, and I don't like it when someone breaks their promises (either mine or someone else's). And I don't like it when someone insults my religion.

And this particular question, to answer you, I've been drawing since I was young, certainly when I went to school, but I didn't like to draw and I often had terrible drawings. I'm talking about when I drew in the traditional way. I think I have the hardest time painting with water colors. As for drawing itself, and coming back to it, I started four years ago, unfortunately I drew mostly very badly, but over time I learned some methods (and now I practice) and perfected it. If you look at my first drawings and my current drawings, you will see a big difference. I try my best though. Now I need to practice drawing and coloring backgrounds as well as portraits. And as for the ducks, well, I've been watching the classic shorts and reading the comics since I was a kid, but when I was in my teens, I stopped. Yes, I watched a lot of cartoons. In return, the Ducktales reboot is ironically credited, and I've come to love the comics more than before, even collecting those comics. Either online or I buy them. However, I prefer the classics the most, because it is still the best that will always remain. The Legend of The Three Caballeros and re-watching Quack Pack and other cartoons made me even more devoted to ducks.

I hope I satisfied you with your answers. And yes, I tell others to feel free to ask me, if you are interested in something. And yes, those are my opinions and sorry if anyone is offended by this, it's not my intention, just stating my views.

And yes, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

#ask #ducksinspaceadventure #question #my answers #my opinions #my blog #tumblr #ask game

4 notes · View notes

hesitantadrien · 1 year

Text

I decided to redraw an old fandom piece as an original, to use as a portfolio piece, because I'm really struggling to create new art. The only fandomy thing about it is what the character is wearing, and I've always liked the piece, so it seemed like a prime candidate for a redraw. It's essentially a bust in a style similar to art nouveau. Nothing groundbreaking, but it looks nice and I'm hoping it'll help me feel more confident in making something that is actually new.

It feels so strange though. I opened the file, made it mostly transparent, and went to start drawing a circle for where the head should be under the details... But it feels like im tracing someone else's work. Not in a "this is cheating" or "I feel guilty reusing my old art" way, because it's not and I don't-- I think this is a solid strategy to revive the very, very dead artistic drive I once had. The piece is just so different from my current "work" (or maybe lack thereof) that it feels like a different person made it.

Everything I've made, or more accurately tried to make, for the past several years has been made mostly out of desperation. I'm desperate to get into a school, get a degree, get out of my shitty job and into something less shitty at the least. It's killed my creativity over and over, I feel like the very few finished pieces I have made really do look and feel desperate and stressed, that it comes through no matter the subject. Everything recent is poisoned by the pressure of making something good enough to warrant scholarship, to so thoroughly impress someone I haven't met yet that they'll save me from my own miserable life.

This older piece was made because I wanted to make it. Because I thought it looked nice, because it was fun. I knew it wouldn't be for a portfolio ever, and though I wanted it to get social media attention, the stakes were exceedingly low. I wasn't happy with my life when I drew that piece either, but I remember making art all the time, I remember it being easier, something to do for fun. I say I remember it, because I know it was true once, but I don't remember what that feels like anymore.

This isn't burnout, this is something else. I'm 29, trans and too poor to transition, have living relatives but no "family" other than my partner and my best friend, and my life savings is $250 in a jar. I have no degree and seemingly no options, I'm more or less paycheck to paycheck. I work full time and my mental health is so horrific that there's little time for me to complete basic tasks, like eating and cleaning, let alone time to dedicate to practicing art and making new pieces I genuinely want to make. I filled out fafsa and qualify for less than 12k student aid, over 9k of which is just direct loans. I'm already in 10k student debt from being pressured to go to a shitty university fresh out of highschool a decade ago, and my credit score isn't great. I don't want more loans even if I could get them, but I don't have the talent or experience to get an art job without a degree. I don't have a real portfolio, my art is painfully obviously student level. I don't know what to do. I desperately need top surgery and I feel like I'm constantly putting off everything else in my life because I haven't "accomplished" either of these things, because I should be saving for one or the other, because everything costs thousands of dollars and I bring home like $400 a week killing myself slowly in retail.

I have a significant breakdown about my life almost every other week now. I'm really trying to go through the motions of what I should do to improve things, but it's exhausting. Instead of daydreaming about the life I want anymore, I just daydream about joining a cult so I wouldn't have to think anymore (I'm jealous of the Jesus people, it's a new low for me!) or think about really elaborate, convoluted ways to die (there are so many fascinating poisons!) I know I can't live like this forever, but I don't know how to make my life better fast enough. I really do want it to get better.

I guess if anyone sees this and has been in my shoes and lived to tell the tale, tell me what I'm missing. And for the love of god, don't say it's patience.

#personal #venting #advice?#help #mental health

4 notes · View notes

mmhaterade · 1 year

Text

The 2023 Hater's Guide to the West Region

This blog is not in any way affiliated with the NCAA, its entities, subsidiaries, or member institutions. This is a humor site and should be treated as such. We’re all on our way out – act accordingly.

1. Kansas (28-6). When Texas beat Kansas to end the Big 12 (8?) regular season, the intrepid videographer shooting the game happened to catch a KU coed wearing a t-shirt which read “I (heart) Dick.” A-fucking-mazing. Look, I don’t have to tell you KU fans need this one seed, need the wins, need a title more than anything to justify their continued existence. They live in Kansas for fuck’s sake – Interstate 70 ends in Lawrence and you are stuck wandering the plains like Denzel Washington in Book of Eli until you reach Colorado, and the interstate magically appears again. There is NOTHING to do here other than watch basketball, and that says a lot, because I live in Iowa!

2. UCLA (29-5). This is a Bruin, right? With that face, I am 100% sure his name is “Crick Monin.”

3. Gonzaga (28-5). There is a new Constitutional amendment which clearly states you are no longer allowed to refer to Gonzaga as a Cinderella school. It’s been twenty five years - I think the slipper finally broke. They’ve now been in every final AP poll since the 2008-09 season, and have appeared in every weekly AP poll since 2016-17, a streak of 115 consecutive weeks. I will never stop laughing when eighth year senior Drew Timme appears on my TV screen. All I see is TIMMY from South Park. Fuck John Stockton.

4. UConn (25-8). Go back to the AAC! Biggest group of crybabies in the country and it isn’t even close. When their women’s team had an injury plagued season (lost five games including back-to-back games for the first time in 30 years), Geno Auriemma vented to the media and to his team, telling them they had three days before the conference tournament to fix things. Then he got in his car and drove home to Manchester, wishing he could continue westward. “The way I felt was I want to wake up in California in three days,” he said. “I just want to keep driving, I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to come to practice.” Jesus man, just fucking quit already and move away from that awful place. Twitter account CrimsonCast put it best: UConn continues to fail to shake the perception that they are simply an analytics darling. Like an east coast version of the Mountain West.

5. Saint Mary’s (26-7). Every bracket, no matter the site, always lists this school as “Saint Mary’s (CA).” Why? No one is confusing this school for the archaeological dig site posing as a university in Maryland, or the all-women’s college in north-central Indiana where many of the enrolled students play for nearby Leprechaun U, also known as Notre Dame. No, this is the school – in California – that gets exclusive coverage on ESPN Australia/New Zealand. Sixty percent of the student body is involved in organized athletics here, so it’s a good chance you’ll be handed a scholarship and some sort of ball upon move-in. It’s either that or forced labor washing jockstraps.

6. TCU (21-12). Their coach gives out a pair of “charge socks” when a Horned Frog player takes a charge. There’s a big bucket of these colorful dress socks in the TCU locker room. Charge socks? You have to be kidding me. You are in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex, you can’t find a bag of blow or an extra couple of c-notes for your athletes? (Producer cuts in…garbled static…). Pardon me, I’ve just been informed that the “C” in TCU stands for “Christian.” There is no cocaine on campus. But NIL is legal now, surely you can find something other than a pair of sweaty dress socks to reward your unpaid employees. Perhaps a sad handjob from a coed who has already put on the freshman 15+15+15?

7. Northwestern (21-11). Congratulations, you finished top three in the Big Ten for the first time since 1960. You won your last conference championship 90 (!) years ago. You have made one (1) NCAA tournament and had to be retroactively selected as something called the Helms National Champion. Your most successful head coach played for Phog Allen at Kansas – in 1917! Northwestern basketball is the definition of futility. They are the Chicago Cubs of the NCAA; fitting for a program that markets itself as “Chicago’s Big Ten team” (insert jerking off hand motion here). Even if Northwestern won 25 games a season for the next 25 years, they would still have a losing record.

8. Arkansas (20-13). It is against state law to mispronounce “Arkansas'' while in the state, yet their residents pronounce jalapeno “Holla-PEE-no.” Gun to my head, I wouldn’t be able to look at Sarah Huckabee Sanders naked, playing with a hula hoop, for more than a second.

9. Illinois (20-12). Brad Underwood is a bargain-bin Gene Keady who is very upset about “booty ball.” Every press conference he attends ends with him making a wet fart sound into the microphone.

10. Boise State (24-9). No one gives a shit about this team unless tater tots rise to $6 a bag – then it’s time to storm the blue court. I know exactly one person from Idaho and their personality matches that of the official state produce. This person is incapable of being corrected. They are always right. You are always wrong. If you say the sky is blue, their response will no doubt begin with “well, actually…” Boise is also not a state, you arrogant fuckhead.

11. Arizona State (20-12) or Nevada (23-9). Over 60% of the student body at ASU has some form of herpes. Unless you are a model, they throw you in an engineering building for four years. If you hate Duke just like the rest of America, you generally hate Christian Laettner and Grant Hill. But there’s one player from those early-90s teams everyone forgot: Bobby Hurley. As I’ve aged, my hatred for Hurley has waned, but I’ll always wish maximum pain for whatever team he coaches.

With the growth of legalized sports gambling across the United States, the University of Nevada has introduced several new classes for the 2023-24 school year: Kneecap Relocation, Intermediate Hammer Smashing Techniques, and Advanced Vig Calculation. Another new course addition as of Thursday morning: Getting Your Shit Pushed In By A Sun Devil Pitchfork. Too soon? Probably.

12. VCU (27-7). VCU stands for Very Completely Underwhelming. This isn’t a college, it’s an industrial laundry that has tricked 28,000 students into paying the institution to “work.” If you want a perfect example of the bloat in higher education administration, consider there are over 11,000 non-academic staff at VCU. Never trust a doctor from this school; they only practiced on centaurs.

13. Iona (27-7). Someone is going to give Rick Pitino the best 14 seconds of his life to coach for them.

14. Grand Canyon (24-11). By employing buzzer-beating Valpo alum Bryce Drew, this pretend university has already accomplished more in the NCAA Tournament than Mount Rushmore State, Hoover Dam U, Smokey Mountains College and SUNY-Niagara Falls.

15. UNC Asheville (27-7). Let’s have a quick check-in on how this college is doing. Student enrollment and retention are plunging at UNC-Asheville and top leadership is departing at the highest rate in the entire UNC system. While overall student enrollment in the UNC system has increased 7% since 2015, UNC-Asheville fell by a stunning 25%, the largest drop among the 16 public universities in the system. Of the incoming students UNC-A is able to attract, a high number of them leave before graduation. Retention of students, measured as those returning for a second year of school, is now just 68.6%, the lowest in ten years. Jesus, even Trump University would laugh at these numbers.

16. Howard (22-12). Howard students recently had to protest living conditions in on-campus dorms – mold, mildew, and rats are apparently very commonplace in multiple residences. It is 2023; the only sensible reason these alarming conditions should be issues on your campus is when you have outsourced every part of the student life experience to a call center in the middle of the Himalayas.

#march madness #college basketball #college sports #march

1 note · View note

dreadlord-mr-son · 2 years

Text

re: Still unnamed Colony AU

Decided to throw everyone into a Minecraft world just to make it easier to map. This style of world may be heavily-familiar to a couple of the characters, depending on my final picks.

I don’t plan to have it heavily gameified. Things won’t actually be square. Food saturation doesn’t heal you. There’s not an “inventory”. There might be respawning? Haven’t decided yet.

I’ve already picked out a large biomes world and an area in it to drop people.

Now I just have to finalize my character list...

I’ve made two short lists so far. One from my Wynnverse timeslines and one from my older OCs and original projects. There are some canon characters from various media (anime) already in those, as Wolfwood and Roy are both heavily tied into a lot of Wynn’s timelines. But I haven’t yet made the “characters from various media canons and fanfic of those media that I like” yet.

To go briefly over my potential picks from my older OCs and original works...

Forest’s Shadow: A sapient non-human I usually list as a “youkai” when I’m writing character lists. Not because she precisely is one, but because it’s a better term for what she is than others available to me. She’s a horse-sized vaguely canid creature who was going to be one of the main characters in a book I never wrote, where her and a young boy from a Native-American inspired tribe(1) who lost his tribe for plot reasons together gather a following and start a new family that expands into a tribe. Oh gee look there’s those same interests that are leading me to write this very fic right now. (1) This would be set on an alternate earth so no actual real tribes that exist or used to exist on our world would be present. Also it would be set in a time period comparable to thousands of years ago on our world so...

“Roach” (Michael Bradley): Well-off pothead with the coloring of a super-saiyan. His plotline was about him no longer being able to afford his house payments on his own so he gets a roommate who ended up being my self-insert. Basically a dumb self-insert sitcom character. One of my very rare straight male characters. Kind of bland to describe? But I’m fond of him. Nicknamed Roach because of the “pothead” thing. I always think of him as Roach and have to remind myself that his actual name is Michael. His story actually has a title: “Fish and Houseguests”. After the saying “Fish and Houseguests stink after 3 days”, referring to people overstaying their welcome. Thus indicating my long pattern of many of my own characters being supremely unimpressed with me.

Three characters from the same story now: Nathanial Sebastian Creighton (prefers Sebastian, thanks). Keneth Weaver Darlene Gothe A trio of college students from a comic I never drew a ton of titled “Something About Slugs” (an intentional non-sequitur). Sebastian is a rich gay guy whose homophobic parents sent him to college in another country so he could go and be weird and gay and artsy over there where he won’t be publicly visible and embarrass the family. Basically, he gets an allowance to keep his head down and pretend he’s not related to them. Very angtsy. Tall and thin and has super strength. Is a pacifist precisely because of the super strength -- he’s terrified he’ll seriously hurt someone by mistake. Suuuuper pretentious artist. Avoids speaking with contractions and gets poetic when drunk. Favorite forms of art are theatre and painting. He likes to dress in a black trenchcoat with a black sweater under it, even when it’s hot. Always wears long sleeves to hide his self-harm scars from when he was younger. I don’t have enough words for how much I enjoy tormenting this boy and making him chew on his own complicated emotions. :p I have a whole comic where I just drew him talking to a crucified Jesus statue about how he felt about the concept of God and his opinion on “love the sin, hate the sinner”. He is. So fun for me. Keneth Weaver is one of the middle children of a large family with many siblings. Very good at deescalating between his two best friends who... do not get along with each other. :p Always dresses in a puffy winter jacket with a warm knit hat (which he tucks his long blond hair up into) because he frequently gets cold chills. Is an absolute sweetheart and is the one of the trio most likely to go feral and punch a mofo for messing with his friends. Has not yet realized that he’s bi and falling for his best friend Sebastian. Everyone thinks he’s going to get into some nurturing care field of study but ends up getting into law from an idealistic desire to defend the disenfranchised. Darlene Gothe is... aptly named. She’s got a “slutty witch” aesthetic, liking to wear black dresses with ratty bottom hems and her cleavage out and swirly black eye makeup. Self-describes as “playfully bitchy”. Sebastian thinks she hates him because she’s constantly insulting and teasing him because she thinks it’s fun to play with him because of his dry sarcastic whit. So she’s just having fun and he thinks she’s being intentionally mean. Keneth sometimes gets so exhausted dealing with these two, but he does love them both. While Sebastian struggles with his complicated feelings for his disapproving parents, her parents are very supportive of her, but she just doesn’t emotionally connect with them and struggles to understand why family is so important to Sebastian and Keneth. Part of her trouble with sincere emotional connection is from school trauma. She was bullied through grade and highschool and coped with it by becoming sarcastically disconnected and prickly (hence “playfully bitchy”). I’m never going to end up writing the comic for these three but I love them so much.

Um. I’mma cut this off here and reblog my own post with the next batch of characters because I’m not even halfway through.

#mr son writing #colony au #forest's shadow #fish and houseguests #something about slugs

4 notes · View notes

bl6ckr0s3 · 3 months

Text

Spiritual Awakening 2024

I never thought I'd be writing again here, but the therapy of writing never fails. Counseling doesn't work for me because they cost money and humans are disappointments if they aren't spiritual. God and Lord Jesus have been my best counselors. The most difficult thing I have had to endure was the death of my sister, Annica. The last time I spoke to her was when she was back at the hospital in West Covina in the end of November. I think I last texted her Jan, but the last time I spoke to her was the last time I ever got to hear her voice. My brother or dad never told me nothing, until I had a bad feeling and had to give my niece a text to ask her dad how my sister is doing. That's when I got the bad news that she didn't make it in the hospital. She was there to get a blood transfusion. I truly believed that since she gotten sick with Covid, it fucked up her body and her health was going downhill. I never expected to lose her now, I really thought she was gonna live another 10-15 years and that my 90 year old dad would pass b4 her. She was a great person just like my mom. Now at least she's reunited with her and the rest of the families and the spirit guides that have been with her for many years. She no longer needs to suffer taking medications and dealing with my dad's negative bullshit. Her funeral is this Tuesday, but sadly I can't afford to fly out there to say goodbye. I know my sister would understand and not hold it against me for not making it to her funeral. We were really close & she is spiritually powerful so I know I feel like I am somewhat closer to her now in spirit. Getting through the first couple of days of grieving was difficult, but the remainder of the week got easier.

I had 3 3-Question readings done with Cait because I have met somebody I never expected to meet. There was a drawing of a man that she did for me almost 3 years ago from my soulmate reading with Cait. She drew a photo of a man with a baseball cap, flannel over a t-shirt, and a small beard. I looked at this photo and told myself I generally never become attracted to men like this. I held on to the drawing though. This was right before I met Joshua and way after I had already broken up with Ricky.

During the beginning of the holidays, it started to get real busy at work. One evening I was gonna leave work and I almost forgot to put away my fan. I found a fan that still works that somebody left at the garbage disposal of my apartment complex and thought it was perfect for work. When they blast the heaters, it was so fucking hot that i couldn't work without it throughout the night, so I had to make sure I had my fan put away so that nobody would steal it. Right when I turned around, here comes a tall gentleman staring directly at me with a smile on his face. I couldn't help, but grin in return. I never saw this guy b4, and it hit me so fast. I didn't know wtf happened, but it hit me like a semi-truck. I looked at the guy and asked myself who is this guy? Where did he come from? Damn, he looks kinda cute. After the first time seeing him, I couldn't stop thinking about him after that. The next evening I worked, I would look out for him. I would notice he usually starts walking by around 10 or 11pm. During the holidays, the maintenance guys would come in 2 hours early. When I saw the same guy walking by, I held my position and kept watch to see if he would turn to look at me. As he walked by my operation, he turned to look at me and smiled at me when he saw I was looking at him, so I decided to wave to him. There was a couple of other times I have seen him while I been working when he was working on a machine, he would turn to look at me and smile at me then look away. I already felt his eyes and his smile call my name. I waved to him when he walked by and smiled at me again, then I started greeting him when he did the next time. I asked the Mike on my tour about him and he said that guy is Mike Myers. He told me about him before, and I thought it was cool that he had a celebrity's name as well as a horror character's name as well. So, the next time he walked by I asked him if he is Mike, and he said yeah. I introduced myself to him and held out my hand to shake his, afterwards he said it was nice to meet me and I said the same.

Referring to Cait's readings, I asked about Mike Myers and how he felt about me. I was shocked to figure that after the powerful connection I felt with this man, I thought back to the drawing that Cait did for me and realized that OMG, he looked just like the guy in the drawing. Mike had a small beard, he wears a baseball cap all the time, and he always wears a plaid flannel to work outside his t-shirt. After the first time seeing him, I couldn't believe how fucking cute he was. I knew he is married with 3 kids, but obviously this powerful connection isn't stopping either one of us from this passion and excitement we have for each other. Cait verified with me in the readings that I have captured this man's attention. Mike has seen me when I was on tour 1, but I never remembered seeing him, maybe once if I was lucky to catch him. I never realized he liked me from the very beginning and then showing up in my work operation during the holidays the way he did, it turns out he would come through there when he never really needed to just to try to get a glance from me.

I began to write letters to him & folded them into the old origami shapes that we use to do it back in high school. He definitely remembered that when I saw the letters and he read through them all that night. He found it interesting. Claimed to have 'red thoughts' from the first letter and the remainder was informative in which I poured out my history to him so that he knows where my family came from and where I grew up. I told him about the places I lived in, the schools I attended, what I went through growing up during my teenage years, and about my ex boyfriends. He said he enjoyed my letters and didn't mind reading more, so I make time to write to him again when I can. After I gave him my Google voice #, he texted me right away and told me I can text him whenever I wanted. That first night, we texted until 6am before I realized I had to go to bed. I am getting use to the patterns of when he normally goes to sleep and when he is able to msg me, but it's been pretty hot between us. I shared a ton of photos to him. Cait has relate to me about the similar situation that me and Mike are in with our current relationships regarding co-dependency & possessive behaviors.

Joshua has noticed that something about me is off for the past 2 weeks and he knows things haven't really been the same between us. Even when we moved here, I already felt like my love and affections have drifted away from him. I was honest with him a couple of times about how I felt about our relationship. I told him that he's not affectionate with me, he hardly holds me in bed or in public, he kisses me rarely, we don't hold hands in public, we don't really have sex much in the first place. I know it and Cait knows it that there are things about him that won't ever change. His possessiveness and the way he controls me and the way he's becomes annoyed quickly and the way he deals with people is just sort of negative for me to deal with for the rest of my life. I don't want to live with Joshua for the rest of my life knowing that that's what I'm gonna deal with. Now that I know that I have met the man in the drawing who happens to my real TWIN FLAME. All the men I have been with and thinking of the possible people who could've been 'the one' who ended up NOT, it took me 3 years for my manifestation list to come true. The list that I made of all the things I wanted my future man to be, I wouldn't have met him if I wasn't convinced to move here to Tennessee. Mike was born in West Tennessee and lived here all of his life.

I have been really happy since I met him and I was open with him about everything, my feelings for him, knowing the fact that he's my twin flame, and that we are here to help each other out and be there for each other if need be. We are here to help each other grow spiritually, whether we don't end up getting together or we do. I think I have found my MATCH. This is amazing.

0 notes

incarnateirony · 3 months

Text

fdsjkhfjdsh TODAY I GOT A MESSAGE LIKE HEY SUP MIN, THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW HOW ABOUT YOUR EX BEING NUTS AND THINKING SHE CAN FUCK WITH US. JOHN TOLD ME THE GUY THING AND I SAID YOU WERE ALREADY AN HONORARY GUY ANYWAY WHO CARES ANYWAY NOT SURE WHY SHEA DECIDED TO SOB STORY ABOUT YOU TO ME WHEN SHE WAS THE ONE THAT BLOCKED ME TEN YEARS AGO WHEN I REFUSED TO TRANSPORT CZAR HAZMAT OUT OF STATE FOR THE LAST TIME SHE FUCKED YOU OVER

yeah. pff. yeah.

Did he intentionally steal a few techniques of hers, realized she only had two valuable ones, and screw her in a way I'd normally ethically disagree with? Yeah. Is it very funny? Also yeah.

man I didn't even ask for that, she's just been that big of a cunt for a decade running that everyone keeps coming for her while she tries to villainize me and I hear about it after the fact.

Like. How stereotypical of her is it. Whether the cheating/plotting ex girlfriend or cheating/plotting ex wife arc these years apart. To try to run to the guy's gamer bro friends and do this shit only to realize nobody believes her or wants her drama like years late. Why? Because she already burned out, abused, and overdemanded of those men for no logical moral reason they need to help and no other imperatives for them to do what she wanted or-else.

When I told them how bad she shit talked them for years some months ago, I didn't even KNOW she'd been so brazen that, around 2014 when she FIRST bounced on me and I blamed MYSELF, that when the guy she brought in to the houses we were browsing to buy instead of me turned out to be a useless sack of shit couch potato like everyone including me warned her, then trying to harass my friends into driving across the country to pickup her own mistake and blocking them if they don't, and she really thought she could manipulate these same people. Oh holy fuck me.

Shealyn Bonds, you are not the main character of life.

You can't even channel your own inside joke for branding your pagan shop, you have to steal mine. Stop.

god. by the end it was corban realizing I was an artist and us just talking about art anyway. I just hadn't drawn in 12 years for misc life and disability reasons but like "OH, THIS IS FAMILIAR, I'VE SEEN THIS" "Yeah. Cuz I drew it in like 2012 and used it as a CC/TK profile picture then one day Shea vomited high saturation color on it and called it painting it." "RIGHT" "Yeah anyway, I hear you're not allergic to using AI as an art tool so here's my base work and what I've been morphing it into since I can't handle full art anymore with my hands" "BADASS"

Yeah. He's been using AI to increase his output. He's been making money hand over fist. And john ofc as every day like... we have a daily gc and she tryin

"Mmmmm yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaa she tried to do some native american scrying with her ancestors over discord or something." "Oh, what, Hermes, the actual god of communications and business and technology shit, couldn't tell her? What's this all over her website. I wasn't aware Chief Great Great Great Grandpa felt like waking up for your zoom call." "Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah. It was... weiiiiiiird... and not like... mystical weird... I've been on video with you, and you don't even charge. I know weird mystical. This was like. Weird facebook" "hey buddy remember who that art piece is even of?" "No?" "My In Character rendition of Hermes, who by astral was that thing, and by day was a musician named Aaron Eema?" "Kind of?" [pulls up his like 2010 website with the Rumpocky joke on it] "Yeah bro I plugged a really weird real life channeling story that confused everyone on there and then she lifted that for her brand name." "Jesus christ, that's shameless." "Can we try 'hermballs' instead?"

0 notes

theshedding · 4 months

Text

Family, Grief, Religion & Manners

So the day (or day after) my Mom died exactly two months ago, one of her favorite cousins of her age group called me to offer me his condolences. This cousin lives in Hampton, VA and is a retired, married professional living a solid middle class, boomer life. Yet he never called to check on me/her (except once in the hospital), never came to see about her or send a birthday card or flowers in the year and some months she was home.

Until she passed. Then he calls me; after initially offering condolences, he quickly launched into his own grief narrative around his mother some years back (centering himself), going on and on…and on.

Then he asks “Are you a Christian?” I say “No, we’ve had this conversation before” (re: we talked extensively about my non-belief in 2022, though he didn’t recall). He then begins to say, “Iook, I know you don’t believe, but I want you to know if you just call on the name of Jesus and say his name 3x every time you miss your mother, that feeling will go away!”

Stunned, I say nothing. He pauses and goes on. “Trust me, it will work! I promise you.”

He kept repeating this and centering his own story of grief-rather than saying something helpful or consoling. I could go on….but the point is, in the immediate aftermath of my mom’s death, I was being forced to engage his theological views and false gospel…even though he knew I was not a believer. In fact, BECAUSE I am not a believer. As the call drew to a close, I remained mostly silent, placated him a bit, made no promises and ultimately, politely ended the call.

___________________

The point of this story? As I have been wrapping up sending the thank you cards to those who came to the service (or couldn’t come)-today I kept the promise I made to myself following the call with this cousin and decided to send him a very customized, special message. Let’s just say “it’s been in my spirit” to address him.

This is how I put my feelings into words:

Dear Cousin, I hope you have had a good holiday season and start to the new year. Thank you again for your condolences last November, and for the loving card you mailed. I write however, both to acknowledge and draw attention to a great offense I took during your phone call in the immediate days following my mother's transition. Out of respect for the loving friendship the two of you shared, and my grief and shock, I listened to your evangelism over the phone but chose not to offer a rebuttal at the time. However, following critical reflection I am afraid there is one. Saying "Jesus three times" to alleviate the grief of my mother (or any loved one) does not and did not "work". But it did serve as a crude and misplaced effort to wield power and privilege over someone who has politely already expressed to you their disbelief in the tenants or claims of your faith. Imposing Christian mantras upon someone who expressly does not share Christian beliefs -for a variety of reasons- is inappropriate, offensive, and unbecoming, in fact. You did this repeatedly over your phone call. Had I been Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Yoruba or of any other faith, I imagine you might have extended more courtesy and respect for my beliefs than what I listened to on the phone. But apparently to you, a secular humanist and atheist does not get afforded the same courtesy or consideration-even given the death of his mother some 48 hours prior. The truth is, I am not only a non-Christian, but I am also a secular activist, congressional advocate for Black Freethought, and a Black, Queer secular community organizer on these issues specifically: religious freedom, interfaith advocacy, anti-religious stigma, and linkages to Black and minority communities in health, sexuality, education, etc...You show no interest in the "why" of my non-belief; only that I am a non-believer and effectively targeted me for a Christian conversion on a call where I was grieving the loss of my mother. Might you ever wish to understand why I am-or others like me are no longer a Christian (or religious, generally), please consult my work; one of which is entitled "Where We're Headed" (wwh.podbean.com), an award-winning narrative podcast that takes a deep dive into Black history covering the legacy and phenomena of religious dissent as political resistance all around the African diaspora. There I engage in these and other related topics for anyone interested, no matter their faith. My mother knew these things about me-my non-belief and religious skepticism were no secret. And though she kept her faith (and I respected it), she also celebrated my work and was proud of my activism and political and cultural advocacy. Please know I have no interest in your conversion or de-conversion; I respect and support your choice to believe -or not- based upon your autonomy if nothing else. But like many before me raised a believer who then changed my mind about their faith tradition, so have I. The right to change one's mind about any faith tradition at any moment-given sufficient and/or empirical evidence against it, is a right I claim proudly for myself. Losing a parent is not an opportunity to affirm your beliefs- but an opportunity to show care, interest, comfort, and sensitivity to those who cared for, and showed up for that loved every day during their last years-even to those who are atheists. Given those two options, an unequivocal "I'm so sorry for your loss" will always suffice for a better message of condolences. Sincerely, -R

Podcast: “Where We’re Headed” W: wwh.Podbean.com // Produced by Fibby Music Group, LLC Sponsored by the DC Commission on the Arts & Humanities

I said what I said. This was wholly inappropriate; I will say what deserves to be said.

Besides, he didn't even come to the funeral.

#rogiers #fibbymusic #blackness #secular humanism #secular humanist #black atheist #atheist #deconstructing religion #interfaith dialogue #Christian privilege #evangelical #black queer #Religious skepticism #queer black

1 note · View note