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#I'll tape it to my wall i guess
calicotisane · 2 months
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Hylics design explorations and an unrelated bit of rain world but never you mind
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
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This might be real late but I was rewatching the Vegas gp. So if you are up for it, could you do a poly lestapen and reader where Charles gets annoyed about the first lap incident
A/N: It's been so long since I've watched that race, so excuse me if anything is wrong with this, also I've missed my babies lestappen
"Charles, just talk to me," You roll your eyes, knowing that Charles for the past 3 hours has refused to talk to Max since they finished their press conferences. Max had apologized to Charles for pushing him off the track, and you and everyone else thought Charles was perfectly okay, clearly that wasn't true.
The moment the cameras were off them, Charles wasn't saying a word and would only speak to you. The three of you were back from partying and now, Charles was trying to shower while Max was with you in the bathroom whining. "Charlie....please," Max whispers, hating this. You wanted to get involved but, when it came to their racing, you stayed out of it.
Charles gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist and kisses your cheek going to his suitcase to grab some underwear to sleep in. Max stands up quickly and storms into the bedroom and you follow knowing this wasn't to end well.
"If you're so angry with me, why date me? You knew this would happen, especially with us, you said you were fine, why did you lie? To hurt me, because if that was your goal, you've succeeded Charles. You've hurt me more than anyone else I know," Max turns and stalks into the bathroom, slamming the door making it and the wall rattle.
Charles just blinks and sighs, his shoulders deflating and turns facing you. "You've done wrong Charles, he didn't mean to do that. Has he ever apologized to you before? On live TV? Charles, he felt horrible, all he talked about was how bad he felt with what he did. You accepted his apology and made him think everything was okay only for you to ignore him the last 3 hours, that's just cruel." Charles doesn't say anything as you turn and climb into bed, turning your back to him.
"I made the mistake of reviewing the tape with the team, and they were all furious, and I guess....a small part was still angry and, I was being childish." You sit up quick and glare at him. "Don't say it to me, jackass, say it to the one you've actually hurt," You voice holds no heat which has Charles nod his head and move to the bathroom but stops when the door is ripped open by Max.
"I love you," Charles blurts, Max stuttering to a stop and staring at Charles like he grew a second head. "I know that Charl, but you still hurt my feelings," Max whispers and moves around Charles but, Charles grabs his waist and turns him around. "I'm a dick, and deserve to sleep on the couch. But, I'll never use what happens on the track affect the love I have for you and Y/n." Max sighs and moves hugging Charles, melting into his boyfriends hold.
"I love you too, please don't ever ignore me again," Max pleads, squeezing Charles close who sighs leading them to the bed. You make room for them as they lay with you between them. "You two ever argue again about racing, kicking you out of the bed," "Deal," they both agree.
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notquitecanon · 3 months
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Call Me... // Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.
TW: blood, canon typical injuries, kind of hurt comfort, Matt's a self sabotaging martyr as usual, kinda sunshine!reader??? maybe if you squint
Bolded line is from a prompts list from several months ago so I lost the link. If it's yours let me know and I'll link it!
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"I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried you’re in another dumpster somewhere. Just call me back…please?" You whispered harshly into the phone’s receiver, burner cell jammed between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled with your keys. 
It was true. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t graced your apartment in weeks after three months of near nightly visits. At first it was serious stuff, stab wounds and splinted bones. It took two weeks for him to crack a joke. But once that stone cold exterior cracked, it was shattered. He was kind, sweet even. Every few visits, he’d bring by supplies to replenish your kit and, usually, with a bottle of wine in the bag.  Emergencies turned to what he called ‘urgencies’- wounds just barely deep enough to justify stitches and dislocated joints. Which then turned into stopping by at the end of his nights for a ‘check up’, where he took advantage of your central heating, warm beverages, and warmer presence. Then, some Yakuza jackass appeared on your doorstep three weeks ago, fortunately your devil hadn’t been far behind. He took care of him, and you figured the thug, now minus fifteen teeth, would have a hard time telling anyone where to find you. Nevertheless, you found the ‘available apartments’ section of the newspaper taped to your seventh floor window. That had been the last night ’the devil’ had paid you a visit. 
"Anyways… I guess I'm asking for a sign of life? Something? Please? Bye." You pleaded, voice kinder this time as you managed to finally unlock the door and slip inside. Locking the knob, deadbolt, chain, and newly installed jam that had been mysteriously delivered not too long ago. With a huff, you discarded your keys, and bag in the entry way before delving deeper into your dark apartment, flicking lights on as you went. 
"You really need to start locking your windows." A deep voice sounded as you rounded the corned into your living room. Heart jumping to your throat and stomach dropping, you let out a yelp as instinct took over. The familiarity of the voice didn’t register as adrenaline flooded your system. 
"SHIT!" You shrieked, flinching backwards so fast that the hallway runner rug caught under your feet, sending you careening into the wall. Without thinking, you put the Yankee’s starting pitcher to shame as you pitched your phone at light speed towards the voice. Of course, the shadow effortlessly caught it.
"Shit!" The intruder mirrored at your fall, and it was then that you realized who it was. As you collected yourself a slew of curses slipped out, looking into the dim living room to find the Devil of Hell’s kitchen slowly rising off the couch, he was already sans black shirt and mask, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you." 
"Yeah, well, mission failed." You muttered, pressing a hand to your chest as if that would still your pounding heart. Slowly, you finished your shuffled into the living room, flicking on the overheads as you went. "Shit, you could have called. Sit back down."  
You could have used the heads up, the gash across his chest looked serious, and not in the cute excuse to see each other way ’serious’ had meant last month. He breathed a sarcastic laugh, tossing your phone back to you before producing a shattered burner cell with a… bullet hole?
"You have a funny way of saving my skin when I least expect it." He tried a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace as you retrieved your first aid kit from under your kitchen sink, "Consider this a sign of life?" 
"A sign of barely alive, more like." You answered, rounding back around the couch to sit across from him. Harshly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and splaying out an array of supplies both his lap and yours. "You’re unbelievable. Almost a month of no contact and then you just appear and leak blood on my couch." 
"I’m sorry." He breathed, face angled to where your knees now touched. You rolled your eyes, ripping into a packet of gauze and setting to work dabbing the blood. And he sounded sorry, pitiful even, looked it to. His unseeing eyes stared straight past you and yet somehow straight through you at the same time, mouth settled in a puppy like frown. He told you once that he was catholic, and you now wandered if that’s why he was so good at looking guilty.  
"If it wasn’t for the newspapers, I would have thought you were dead." You drove your point home, with a small voice, too angry to be a whisper and yet too concerned to be a hiss. The evidence of his activities was written across his bare torso in older cuts, new and fading bruises, and a couple of bandages that he’d obviously applied himself, "And you’ve obviously been busy." 
"Figured out how the Yakuza found you. Handled it. Didn’t want to lead anyone else back here." His explanation was strained, pushed through gritted teeth as you applied antiseptic to the largest, freshest gash. You cooed small apologies, irritated as you were with the vigilante, you hated being the source of his pain. You picked up a suture kit, quickly threading the needle. 
"Well, as far as excuses go, that’s not the worst." You muttered, half joking and half touched he’d go through this for you. You’d known he was a walking martyr from the moment you’d met him, but still. He’d taken the beatings so you’d sleep safe. 
That was something else, "Lean back, gotta stitch you up." 
He complied as you stood, using your shoulder to nudge the floor lamp so the light was better for you. Even then, you position on the coffee table wasn't cutting it as leaning forward cast a shadow over his chest. Neither was kneeling in front of him, as the gash was too far up his chest for your position to be adequate. You muttered a quick apology as you flitted around him, trying to find the best place to plant yourself. Beside him on the couch might work, but you’d be straining to hold yourself up at that angle and keep your hands steady. 
Bloody-knuckled hands found your waist with amazing precision for a blind man, easily lifting you and placing you over one thigh after he spread his legs a bit wider. He held you steady, angling his eyes to the ceiling to give you the broadest view of his chest. One of your knees pressed into the couch cushion between his legs and the other pressed into the outside of his thigh, caging the his black-clad thigh between your own like a seat. If your weight bothered him, he gave no indication. He did however turn his ear ever so slightly towards you and smirk ever so devilishly, "How’s that?" 
"Very convenient, thanks." You forced your voice to be flat instead of the breathlessness you felt. Stupid charming vigilante. To his credit, it gave you the perfect access without blocking the light. And if you got to feel ever twitch of his insanely muscular thigh between yours? Added benefit. The devil, even bruised and bleeding, was insanely warm and smelled like something out of a terribly sinful romance novel. The manly small of musk and sweat should have been revolting, but the way it mixed with a fading aftershave would have been distracting if you weren’t so focused on the drip of crimson down his toned abdomen. Before your train of thought could derail again, you gave a quiet warning watching your patient steel himself before you began running the needle and thread through the torn skin.  Other than an initial hiss and the clenching of his fists against your waist, he went silent as you worked. 
The two of you sat in an almost tense silence. He could feel how close your face was to his chest, the waves of breaths washing over his skin, the smell of shampoo in your hair faint enough to know you’d put off washing it, the sound of your heartbeat slowing back down after he’d gotten you excited, the slight sound of your teeth worrying the inside of your lip. He knew he shouldn't be here, Claire could have patched him up, probably would have if he asked really nicely. He probably could have if he really tried, but he’d just missed you. Between Fisk and the Hand and the law firm… everything was messy. You were still simple and sweet and far more caring than he thought he deserved, a balm just to be near you. 
"Could you talk to me?" He asked, so quietly you almost missed it in your focus. You tied off another knot, seeing him wince. 
"Hmm?" You hummed, pausing to look up from the half stitched wound. His eyes lowered to your face, his clenched hands at your waist loosening to rub the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. You always wore such soft things, he wondered if you’d be so soft underneath. You took opportunity in the pause to wipe some of the blood from his skin. 
"I’ve missed your voice, even if you want to yell at me or be upset with me, just let me hear it." His voice was like a prayer, so sincere it made you shift on his leg. What was in the holy water at his church? 
"I’m not going to yell at you, honey. I’m not going to kick a man when he’s stabbed." You shook your head, rearranging yourself to get that optimal view again, grazing a gloved finger over a purple bruise on his ribs, "Besides, someone beat me to it." 
He chuckled at the lame joke, leaning his head back against the back of the couch again as you began stitching once more. Instead of scolding him, you caught him up on all the details and minor drama that he’d missed over the last few weeks. The funny things and annoyances from work, things your family had sent you, what your friends had been up to, your opinion on current happenings in the city. He listened to you like it was the most interesting thing he’d heard all year, chiming in with questions and quips of his own. You’d missed his voice too, not that you’d boost his ego by telling him that. 
"There." You finally finished, tying the last stitch and taping a bandage over it. The vigilante under you didn’t make a move to leave, instead his hands kept you still on his lap. You breathed a laugh, moving on to everything else. You removed the old bandages, giving half healed wounds a thorough cleaning. You applied comical Disney bandaids to the more minor cuts on his hands and were even brazen enough to kiss his split knuckles. The vigilante seemed to preen under you attention as you cleaned and applied Vaseline to his busted lip. As if it was too good to be true, his lip twitched downwards as his eye brows furrowed. His face angled away from yours, his unseeing eyes falling on the window he’d come through. 
"You know, the burner phone's been broken for two weeks now. Took the bullet not too long after the yakuza paid you a visit. Couldn't bring myself to throw it away, a little piece of you." He admitted, a pitiful smile twitched up before pulling downward again. He groaned, starting to shift you off his lap, “I shouldn’t be here, it’s not right.”
You allowed yourself to fall to the cushion beside him, but snatched the black shirt away from him before he could make a move for it. He’d been too busy letting his hands linger on your waist. 
“Why not?” You asked sternly, tucking the shirt behind your back as if the vigilante in front of you couldn't probably drop you six ways to Tuesday if he wanted to. Not that he could ever consider raising a hand to you, “You got hurt, I patch you up. Seems right to me.” 
The devil tensed, first leaning away and then leaning really close. His freshly bandaged fingers tapped your knee as if to emphasize his point, “I don’t deserve this kindness. And even if I did, if I could, if I was good, I would stop coming here so you could live in peace.” 
You were a silent for a moment, wanting to make sure your response was exactly how you wanted it to come across.  
“The third time you fell through my window, you told me that if I ever wanted to be left alone, all I’d need to do was change the candle I keep by the window.” You recounted his words. You hadn’t known about his senses at the time, he was still cryptic and mysterious. But you’d never changed the candle, buying new ones of the same scent when it would burn out, “You warned me what might happen. You gave me an out, one that I continuously chose to ignore. You did everything in your power to protect me when that choice had consequences. That was good, because you are good. And good people deserve kindness. You put too much on yourself, honey.”  
As you spoke, you laid your hand over his on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze to convey your own point. The crimefighter listened to your voice, your heartbeat, the quickness of your breath, finding no deceit and even if he didn’t believe you words, it was nice to hear them. Your kindness washed over him, letting him relax for just a second before he shook his head, laughing sarcastically to deflect the dangerously sappy emotions you stirred. You called him honey like it was his name, and part of him wondered that if you knew his name if you would still call him honey. 
“You barely know me, sweetheart.” 
His own nickname slipped out by accident, usually just something he called you in his head when he allowed fantasies about telling you everything, coming home to you as the vigilante and the lawyer, seeing just how far your good grace could take him. His lips quirked up in time with the uptick of your pulse and the way your breath caught for a moment. 
“I know enough to know you deserve some good.” You whispered earnestly, reaching up to graze the Star Wars bandaid you’d stuck across his the cut on his cheekbone. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. You smiled softly, maybe you’d both missed each other a bit. The combined concern for the other and the time between his last visit making you both a little sappy, or at least more honest about it, So, you breathed a laugh, making another lame joke just to earn one of those chuckles you loved so much, “Besides, I know you well enough to have your blood on my hands.” 
But he didn’t laugh, instead, he pulled his face from your palm, his own bandaged hands taking your bloodied gloved hands in his own. Gently, he pressed your hands together, your loose fists creating almost heart like shape as he pressed reverent kisses to each bloody hand. The vigilante was kind always, flirty and joking, occasionally flirtations bordering on something else. But this? This was different, it was new. Intimate. You’d almost feel like a voyeur for watching the scene if it you weren’t playing a starring role. Your mind flashed to those romance novels you’d thought of earlier, this put all of them to shame. So much so that your hands started trembling against his lips. 
He held them tighter, but not in a constrictive, cage like way. More in a ‘let me hold you together’ kind of way before gently peeling the dirty gloves off and, again, kissing your clean hands underneath. His face angled to yours, nothing but sincerity lacing his features. 
"You know my blood better than my own heart does.” 
“God…” You whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder, your nose nudging his collarbone and your eye lashes fluttering against his neck. His stubbled cheek fell to the crown of your head.  You cleared your throat again, "I know your blood, but not your name. For someone I care so much about, that’s kind of sad.” 
It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud in such certain words. The vigilante ran gentle hands up and down your arms, silent as a million thoughts went through his head. You heart was racing, not from lying, but in anticipation. Despite your racing pulse, you seemed almost totally at ease with you skin against his, one of your hands pressed to a bandage on his ribs and the other holding purchase at the waistline of his black pants. Nothing sexual, just the perfect place for your soft hand to land.   
Despite the million thoughts, he really had two options. Keep his secret, and keep you at an arms length, to keep things sweet and simple and not too deep. Or. Let you in a little deeper, he'd swim oceans to keep you afloat. Enjoy your sweetness, even if things were complicated. He kept still, holding you as gently as you had touched him, a promise to himself that he could be gentle and soft, just as he could be lethal and ruthless.  Two sides of a balanced scale.  
Your heart had slowed down again, the soothing motion of his hands on your arm lulling you. You had been worried about his response. You’re confession had gotten too real, you were worried he’d jump out the window and disappear again. And you’d be left with nothing but bloody gloves and the thought that maybe you’d just imagined the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 
"Matt.” His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper, “You can call me Matt. Just don’t stop calling me."
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please clic for larger images, tumblr compression made these look all blurry. id below the cut
here i am still making mp100 comics in april of 2024. its just such comfort food. im highly normal about mob and tomes friendship
ID: three pages of black and white comics about Mob and Tome from the anime Mob Psycho 100.
panel 1: a leg and an arm extend from out of panel so that the hand on the arm can tie the shoe on the leg. lying on the ground is the other shoe, a cell phone, a keyring, and a polka dot carrying case. on the carrying case rests a sphere with a strange pattern on it. in the top right it says "January."
panel 2: a figure (its tome) pulls on a jacket. visible in front of her are a cabinet and a wall-mounted rack, all messy.
panel 3: with a door in the background, a closeup of tomes hand on her flipphone. the screen says "dialing."
panel 4: tome shrugs on her jacket and, holding her phone against her ear with her shoulder, smiles and says, "Oy, Mob! It's Saturday! Let's go telepath-hunting!"
panel 5: ritsu and mob sit on a blanket on the floor in front of a bookshelf. a little "pause" label extends from off-panel. both of them are holding controllers. ritsu leans against his hand, looking bored, as mob holds his cellphone to say "Hi Tome. Didn't we already find a telepath?" tome responds, "Oh, right."
panel 6: tome and mob dont really know what to say next. they both look cartoony and stupid. "..."
panel 7: tome, looking pained, curls a hand in the air in front of her and says, "Do you want to... walk around the city? Pointlessly?" mob says, "Sure, I guess that's what we normally do."
panel 8: tome looks mad. "No! We walk pointedly! In the direction of telepaths!" she points, pointedly. mobs eyebrows go a little down as he scratches at his face. "It's pretty funny that you were looking for so long when Takenaka was right next to you. For months. And then he left because you were too weird."
panel 9: tome, opening her front door, says, "Y'know what, Mob, maybe I'll invite him instead." Mob says "That's a good idea. Let's see if he can come with us."
panel 10: now exiting onto the walkway in front of her apartment, tome says, looking excited, "Actually I have been investigating something new. We should look for a haunted house!" mob thinks to himself, "Sounds like work..."
panel 11: mob looks skeptical and asks, "In the city?" tome responds, "Yep." behind mob, ritsu unpauses the game (ssb brawl) and starts thrashing mob (ritsu mains lucas, mob mains kirby)
panel 12: tome walks down the stairs of her apartment building to a concrete sidewalk with a row of trashcans nearby. she says, "My first guess is that new shaved ice place on 5th street." mob responds, "Oh." tome says "It's an old building! I think it's haunted!"
panel 13: mob, contented, says, "Okay. I'll meet you at the train station." pleased, tome responds, "Excellent!" ritsu looks back at mob with a mean smile on. the tv screen says "GAME!"
panel 14: mob yells, "Ritsu! What the heck!" tome, at a stoplight, replies, "Sure, he can come too." she presses the walk signal button. "BIP."
End ID.
making this comic i learned that you cant just put masking tape over your mistakes and re-ink on top of it bc the masking tape looks too dark when its scanned in. i guess ill just have to warm up more and be more deliberate when i ink like some kinda loser. or i could become truly insane and start gluing on little pieces of bristol
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sydsaint · 5 months
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I had to do a fluffy Hook holiday fic
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Summary: The reader faces the gloom of a lonely Holiday weekend until Tyler invites her to spend the weekend with the Senerchia family.
With the holidays fast approaching on the weekend, the AEW roster enjoy their last show before their small vacation. You've just finished up a match against Skye Blue and are headed backstage to the locker rooms when you run into Tyler hanging around. 
"Hey, Tyler." You wave at the stoic enigma that is Taz's heartthrob son. 
"Hey, Y/N." Tyler waves back at you, pushing off the wall at the same time. "Nice win over Skye, by the way." He adds. "I see that training with my dad has been paying off." 
You bounce on your feet with an eager smile. "It really has!" You agree. "I've been feeling so much more confident in the ring since Taz started giving me pointers. And training with you probably helped as well. Only a little though." You joke with a laugh. 
"Well, my dad is the mastermind, not me, after all." Tyler jokes with you. "Anyway. What are you doing this weekend? Any plans for the holidays?" He casually asks. 
"No, not really." You shrug. "My mom and stepdad are going to the Bahamas for a week. And I guess they assumed that I'd be busy. Because they didn't invite me." You explain, trying to hide the disappointment in your tone.
Tyler's eyebrows twitch in surprise at your answer. He can tell that you're faking a carefree smile, and he hates seeing you upset. "Damn, Y/N. That sucks." Tyler frowns. 
"You're telling me." Your voice cracks as you fake another laugh. "Anyway. I totally need to grab a shower. So, I'll talk to you later, Ty." You quickly dismiss yourself before the urge to cry rears its ugly head. 
Tyler silently watches you hurry past him toward the locker rooms. His jaw twitches in frustration that he didn't stop you. But an idea pops into his head and he takes off to find Taz before the show ends. 
After some searching, Tyler finds his dad hanging out in catering before the Rampage taping starts. 
"Tyler! What's going on, kid?" Taz greets his kid with a friendly smile. 
"Hey, Dad." Tyler nods and sits down next to him. "I actually came by to run an idea by you." He explains. 
Taz nods and sets down his phone. "Alright. What's up?" He asks Tyler. 
"I was just talking to Y/N after her match with Skye about the holidays, right?" Tyler explains. "And apparently her mom ditched her for the holiday for a trip to the Bahamas. And you know that Y/N is an only child." He adds. "So I was wondering if you cared if I invited Y/N to come home with us for the weekend?"
A chuckle falls from Taz's lips at Tyler's request. He's been training you for around 6 months now. You and Tyler have slowly been building quite an interesting friendship. 
"Of course, I don't mind!" Taz laughs. "I'm sure that your mom would love to have another kid around for the Holiday." He assures Tyler. 
"Cool." Tyler nods. "I'm gonna go ask her right now. I'll text you later, Dad." He takes off with his answer to find you.
Back in the locker rooms you come out of the shower and begin packing up to leave. Your mind is occupied with thoughts about how you're going to spend your holiday weekend alone so it takes a moment to realize someone is knocking on the door. 
"Crap!" You curse and hurry to the door when you finally hear the knocking. "Yeah? Oh! Hey, Tyler." You find Tyler standing on the other side of the door. "Come in." You step aside and let him in the locker room. 
"Thanks, Y/N." Tyler smiles and steps inside the room.
You shut the door and turn back into the room. Tyler has made himself at home in a chair next to your bags. "So." You walk over to him. "What's up?" You ask casually. 
"Yeah, so, I felt kind of bad that you have to spend the holidays alone," Tyler explains. "So I asked my dad if he was cool with you coming home with us. And he said that he'd love to have you. Only if you want though." 
"Oh!" You reply with surprise. "That's really nice of you and Taz, Tyler." You admit sheepishly. 
Tyler nods, realizing that he might be acting a little forward with you. "Sorry. Like I said, it's only if you want." He assures you. 
"I know!" You nod. "Yeah, I'd love to come home with you guys if it's really no trouble." You agree to his offer. 
"It's not. Trust me." Tyler chuckles. "My dad really likes you! Maybe even more than me." He jokes. "And my mom is bound to like you too." He adds. 
You and Tyler fine-tune your travel plans and the next morning you are on the plane back to New York with Taz and Tyler. 
Upon your arrival, Tyler shows you around the house and to the guest bedroom where you'll be staying for the weekend. "I'll let you get your stuff put away." Tyler leaves you at the door of the guest room. "My room is right across the hall." He points to the closed door directly across the hall. "So just let me know if you need anything." 
You and Tyler are busy putting your stuff away upstairs so Taz takes some time to talk with his wife. 
"She's awfully cute," Theresa comments on you, having only briefly seen Tyler drag you up the stairs upon arrival. "And Tyler seems to really like her." She adds. 
"Oh, there is definitely something there, yes." Taz chuckles. "But don't tell Tyler that. Because he'll just deny it." 
Taz and his wife both laugh and catch up for a bit. A while later you and Tyler come back down the stairs after having settled in a bit. 
"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Sererchia." You compliment Tyler's mom with a friendly smile.
"Thank you, sweetie." Theresa smiles back at you. "I hope that you can enjoy yourself this weekend. And get some much-needed rest." She adds. 
You match the woman's warm smile and nod. "I'm sure that I will. It's really cozy here." You admit. 
Over the weekend Tyler introduced you to some of the Holiday traditions of the Senerchia family. You help decorate the tree and house, bake cookies, and see a parade. On Christmas Eve you play some games with the family and share drinks before Taz and his wife head to bed for the night. 
You and Tyler stay up and watch a few movies while casually chatting about work and some other stuff. 
"This was a really nice weekend, Tyler. Thank you for inviting me over." You thank Tyler from your spot snuggled up on the couch beside him. 
"Yeah, this weekend was really nice." Tyler agrees with you. "What time is it?" He asks and glances at the clock on the wall. 
You glance at the clock on the wall in the dimly lit room. "It's almost 2 am." You answer him. "Why?"
"So it's officially Christmas then?" Tyler replies. 
"Yeah. Again, why?" You ask him again. 
Tyler slips off the couch in almost a hurry before he turns to you. "I'll be right back. Stay here." He asks you. 
You nod and watch Tyler hurry up the stairs. With him gone, you sit up on the couch and wonder where he's gone in such a hurry. A few seconds later you hear him fly down the stairs and rush back to your side with something in his hand. 
"Here!" Tyler shoves a small wrapped present your way. 
"You got me a gift?" You take the present from him gently. "Awe, Tyler. I didn't get you anything though." 
Tyler shakes his head and gestures for you to open it. "It's fine!" He insists. "Just open it now so I don't have to listen to my mom bug me about it in the morning." He asks you.
"Okay." You nod and unwrap the paper to reveal a velvet box. Your heart skips a beat as you open the box and find a necklace inside that sparkles in the room's low light. "Oh my god, Tyler." You look back up at him watching you intently. 
"Do you like it?" Tyler asks you. As if the look on your face isn't enough. 
Flabbergasted by the expensive sparkling necklace in front of you, words seem impossible for a moment. "Ty, of course, I like it! It's beautiful!" You assure him once you've regained the ability to talk. 
"Great! I knew you would!" Tyler beams. "Here, let me put it on you." He gently picks the chain up and moves to help fasten it around your neck. 
Tyler secures the clasp into place and steps back. You look down at your chest and admire the way it sparkles against your skin. "Now I really feel bad that I didn't get you anything." You bite the inside of your lip sheepishly. 
"You're here," Tyler replies and steps closer to you. "And that's kind of all I wanted for Christmas." He admits. 
"Just me?" You answer him with an amused smile. 
"Just you," Tyler confirms and leans in for a kiss. 
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apomaro-mellow · 1 year
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okay yall convinced me to continue this
Eddie looked around and all he saw was black. Was this what death was like? He expected more people. But maybe death was just solitude. Then all of a sudden he wasn't alone.
He jumped back when he came face to face with, himself.
"What the fuck?"
His mirror image looked back and smirked. Then looked down at his hands.
"Finally."
"What the hell is going on here? Where am I? W-we?"
"Vecna is putting us back together. We can see everyone again soon."
"You mean...I'm not dead?"
"Oh we're very much alive. In fact, I'd say we're better than before."
As his mirror said that, Eddie felt a new energy thrumming in his veins.
"Why? Why would Vecna do this, I was tryina kill that bastard!"
"He wants something in return. To use us against them."
"Like hell that's gonna happen. I-"
"Didn't let myself get chomped on just so I could be used by an actual murderer."
"How did you-"
"Is it not obvious? I'm still you. But I'm the parts he wants to use. The part that's afraid of Vecna. Afraid of the world for seeing us for what we are. And angry at our lot in life. And ashamed for how we feel."
Eddie didn't respond. It was all a lot to take in. When his other self mentioned shame for feeling something, a certain face popped into his head.
"We're going to see him again. And this time, I'm going to take what I want."
"You put a hand on him and-" Eddie stopped himself. Not only did he feel pretty powerless here, he was never that good at restraining his own actions. "You touch him and he'll kick your ass."
---------------------
After his little stunt, Eddie/Kas found themselves tied up again, this time in Steve's garage. And this time with chains (duct tape boys? really?). Nancy also made sure his legs were chained to the chair and had a shotgun trained on him the whole time they talked.
"We're all sure he's real?", she asked, nudging his cheek with her barrel. She was the only one here to actually experience Vecna's illusions besides Max. She knew how convincing they could be.
"He's real", Jonathan said, a lighter ready just in case. "Steve and the others said so."
Nancy rifled through all the information she got when she received the code red. Something that looked like Eddie had returned. But it was very obviously NOT Eddie. Stronger, faster, more durable. And apparently was receiving orders directly from Vecna. He also apparently had a craving for flesh, having busted into the meat locker of a deli before being found.
"What's your game this time? Use our friend's face to trick us?", she questioned.
"Heh, it really warms our heart that you call us 'friend'. Guess quality time over quantity, huh?" He was smiling, like none of this was a threat to him. Knowing creatures of the Upside Down, it would take more than one bullet, but Nancy had plenty.
"I believe I laid down my terms with the others pretty clearly. I'll follow your rules, so long as Steve is the one to watch me."
"Why Steve?", Jonathan asked.
Kas grinned at him. "Steve's my favorite."
"Oh my god, shut up, shut up, shut up", Eddie lamented from their shared mental space.
While Nancy and Jonathan were handling that situation in the garage, Steve was trying to get a grip on what was happening in his house. They were practically running up the walls.
"Steve you don't understand!", Dustin exclaimed. "This is huge!"
"I don't see how a monster posing as Eddie is huge?"
"But they're not just posing. It IS Eddie", Mike said.
"We don't know that. Not until Nancy confirms it."
Will rolled his eyes. "Oh like she'd know. She talked to Eddie for what? A day?"
"Cut the sass. And if you can talk, you can move your hands." Steve handed Will the knife and pushed some peppers his way.
"The point is WE, you know the people who actually hung out with Eddie would know him better. We should be the ones interrogating him", Lucas said, actually doing his duty of buttering a casserole dish.
"The other point is we don't NEED to question him because we already know that it's actually Eddie", Dustin said. "Vecna wouldn't know who Kas is. Eddie's in there. And he's telling us that he's on our side."
"You remember what Max told us, right? Vecna gets in your head. He sees what you see, knows what you know." Steve took the dish from Lucas and poured some rice into it. "If he got to Eddie, then he knows what Eddie knows." When Will finished dicing, Steve took the knife and was about to wash it under running water when he heard someone approach.
"Is Mama Steve making dinner?"
Steve reacted first and thought second and the knife flew threw the air. Kas caught it easily and twirled the knife in his hand.
"Nice aim. Lemme guess, little league?"
Nancy and Jonathan were right behind him. Steve wanted to respond. Maybe ask 'what the hell? why isn't he tied up? Nancy where's your gun?' But the kids got to it first.
"Tell us everything!" Mike demanded.
Dustin started rallying off questions. "Are you actually Eddie? Just enhanced? Or like a split personality? Is it one that came naturally or one Vecna implanted? Is Eddie like inside of you? Can he come out?"
"All in due time", Kas said, walking by them all to get to Steve, who once again looked like a deer with a car coming straight on.
"We struck a deal, princess. Looks like we're roomies."
There was still at least a foot separating them yet Steve felt boxed in. It was the same sensation he got whenever Eddie talked to him and only him, but intensified.
"Umm, hope you like chicken and rice?"
Internally, Eddie was falling to his knees. Steve's cooking, Steve in the process of cooking, with his little chickadees orbiting him. It was a domestic scene too much for his pining heart and he was actually glad right now that he wasn't holding the reins. Falling to his knees for chicken and rice wasn't the best look for a metalhead.
"Eddie would love some", Kas said cooly.
--------------------------
Dinner was an odd affair. All of them trying to figure out Kas in their own way. Dustin and Mike with their blatant questions, Lucas telling them to cool it, Nancy with her more subtle line of questioning, Will trying to see if he could feel anything, and Jonathan trying to see if Will was effected.
Steve was the only one pointedly trying to ignore the man which was very difficult given that he was doing everything in his power to get his attention. His favorite move seemed to be nudging Steve's foot with his own, causing Steve to bump his knee against the table at least three times.
Eddie wanted to roll into a hole and die. He especially wanted to do so when Kas started eyeing Steve's leg, because he knew what was coming.
"No, absolutely not. He let you get away with this much. But he will rip of your hand for this", Eddie said.
"I think he'd let us get away with much more." So Kas went ahead and put his hand on Steve's thigh, making him jolt up from his chair.
So yeah, quite the interesting dinner.
After eating, they figured out a rotation schedule for watching him. Technically Steve was only on the schedule for six hours a day. But considering Kas would be at his house the entire time, they'd be spending a lot more time together.
The rest of them were getting ready to leave so that they could check in with the others, but Nancy hung back to talk to Steve semi-privately.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?"
Steve glanced at the mysterious figure that was masquerading as Eddie, who was openly leering at him while ignoring the children.
"I'll be..uh, I can hang in there Nance, don't worry."
Then everyone else left, leaving the two of them alone. Steve felt a little like caged prey. But he also felt like this version of Eddie wouldn't hurt him. Not physically at least. But that left other things to do to him and Steve was afraid to go down that rabbit hole of possibilities.
"It's just you and me, Steve."
Part 3A More plotty, fluffy, bit of angst
Part 3B Less plotty, more smutty
Tag team:
@jestyzesty
@mightbeasleep
@findafight
@spooky-mulders
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Text
TOO TIRED
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: you're too tired to do anything and Eddie can't help but suspect something else going on. Warnings: mentions of divorced parents, abuse, crying, SH. blood
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the cold evening air of your room tried comforting you, but your body was burning and was useless against the heat of your shaking body.
the silence of your room made your cries echo, sending shivers down your spine.
the way your body shook along with your sobs made you feel pathetic, and it was a given that if anyone saw you like this, they would think the same, that you were absolutely pitiable but didn't deserve the pity.
you were curled up on your bed, crying your heart out at something that anyone would say was small, that there was no reason for crying about.
but there you were, in your bed, your blankets abandoned on to the floor as you wanted to scream in your pillow, the slight lines of blood staining the white of your pillow as it dampened with your tears.
the stinging on your arms and thighs felt 100 times worse than usual.
but you seemed to freeze when you heard the phone start to ring from downstairs.
your mum had left to go to the mall and your brother went out for a run to cool off as your sister was at your dad's house, leaving you alone in your stress and troubles.
you let it ring until it stopped before you felt yourself start to drift off, but it started to ring again.
you lazily got up, sniffling back more tears as you trailed down the stairs to the phone, your feet stomping heavily as your got to the yucky red coloured phone on the wall, you picked it up, taking a deep breath as you heard a sigh on the other line
"____ Residence, how may I help you?" you rubbed your temple, a massive headache starting, making you feel dizzy.
"is that my beautiful girl I've been waiting to hear from?" you heard
"yeah" you said blankly, you surely didn't feel beautiful in the moment, your eyes puffy and a bright, deep red, your hair knotted all over the place as thick red liquid dripping from your wrists.
but Eddie didn't seem phased by your bluntness, he must not have noticed
"so I was wondering if you wanted to come over and hang out, I rented our favourite movie, we could go out to the record store and buy some tapes and we could either go out or order dinner" he suggested
"I'm tired, Eds" you responded, feeling your eye lids getting heavy
"of what, darling?" he questioned, his voice soft and worried, scared of the answer
"everything" you sigh "can we just do this another time, maybe Monday?"
"you're saying it'll take 2 days for you to not be tired? what's wrong darling?" you could hear the concern in his voice as he spoke carefully
"nothing, Eddie, I'm just tired and want to go to sleep, there's nothing wrong, I'm fine" you tried reassuring him.
the last thing you wanted was to make Eddie worried about you, because he's always had it worse than you.
you didn't want to complain about your parents because he didn't have any.
you didn't want to tell him your brother abused you, because he has been abused in almost every way.
you didn't want him to see the scars and fresh cuts on your forearms, because you had seen all of his, and they weren't just thin long dashes.
you didn't want to show him the bruises that scattered around your body, because he wore them almost every day as a kid.
"alright then, well uh- I'll talk to you later then I guess. I love you" he breathed heavily
"love you too" you yawned before hanging up.
but Eddie didn't care what you said, he got his jacket before grabbing his keys of his car, running out to his van before driving to your house, almost speeding.
after the phone call, you couldn't walk up the stairs, your legs gave up after the first step, so you weren't to the next room to lay on the couch, trying to sleep.
the baggy shorts hung low on your hips as your shirt clung to your sweaty frame.
you got up and stalked to the door after hearing the bang on the door.
you opened the door slowly, looking down at your feet. you noticed the dirty white reeboks only inches away from your socked feet,
you looked up quickly to see Eddie staring at you with his eyebrows raised. you went to shut the door but he held it open. his hand gripping the door as he slipped his foot between the door at the frame.
"have you been crying?" he asked, looking in your eyes.
"no" you shook your head, looking away from him
"please talk to me, I'm here for you, you know that" he pleaded, pushing the door open when your hands slipped from the handle
"I'm fine" you huffed
"I don't believe that"
"just go home, please" you begged, folding your arms against your chest, hugging yourself for comfort.
he stepped in the door and shut the door behind him, bringing you into a hug
"we don't have to talk about it" he shrugged
you starting sobbing in his chest as he rubbed the small of your back.
you breathed onto his chest as you grabbed onto his shirt.
"can we go home?" you choked
"this is your home" he responded in a confused manner
"this isn't home, I wanna go to your trailer"
"you don't wanna stay here?" he tilted his head
"please" you cried
"ok, yeah, go get what you need" he stepped away from you, you grabbed his hand and started walking to the front door
"I only need you" you whispered, and even though you were in this state, that still managed to put a small smile on Eddie's face
-
it wasn't until you walked into his trailer that Eddie noticed the scratches, bruises and scars on your body. it wasn't hidden but he was just more focused on your tears than your body
"ok seriously, what happened? what are all these?" Eddie sighed, holding you inches away from him
"is this why you didn't want to stay there?" he questioned
you only nodded as your nose began to feel fuzzy and your eyes starting to sting, you were going to break again.
"I don't wanna stay there, I want them gone" you whined
"who gone?" he leaned down to level with you
"them, My mum, Brother, Dad, Sister. I can't deal with it anymore. don't make me go back" you began shaking again.
"who did this?" he motioned to the marks on your body
"mum blames me for it" you admitted as your lip quivered
"for this?"
"for my brothers behaviour, says I'm gonna be like him when I grow up and keeps yelling and screaming at me" you wept
"she did this?" he rubbed your shoulder, being gentle of the growing bruise on your collarbone
"no" you whimpered "my brother did"
Eddie's jaw clenched as he inhaled sharply
"how often does he uh- hurt you?" he bit his lip, scared of the answer
"this was the second time" you whispered
you reached for him but he noticed your wrists before he pulled you in
"he did that too?" he grabbed your hands, holding them to give him a better view of your forearms
"it's too much, he's yelling and screaming every night, Mum get's mad at me for it and starts yelling at me, I try getting my sister to leave, I don't want it to be like this anymore, I want it to go away" you sobbed
"you did this?" he murmured, his voice barely audible to your ears as you wailed in front of him, your trembling body making it hard for you to stand as you felt dizzy again
Eddie held on your waist lightly, weary for any marks in that area as he led you to his bed and let you rest on his soft dark sheets.
he went to his bathroom, coming back with a dripping rag in his hand, he sat beside you as he held you arms, wiping the semi-dried blood off your wrists
"please don't do this to yourself, you're marking yourself forever with these and you don't want to look down at these in a few years and remember why you got them, I'll always be here to listen to you." he started
"I love you and I'd do anything to make you feel safe, even if it's from your own family. I want you to be happy, even if you somehow get it with me. understand?" he said sternly
"yeah" you nodded, flinching at the slight sting
he leaned in to your head and placed a kiss to your temple
"I'm gonna go, order us some pizza, we can watch a movie, eat ice cream and just go to sleep, that sound good?" he raised his eyebrows
"yeah, great" you yawned, the hot, salty tears dripping into your mouth
Eddie kissed your cheek and he brushed your hair out of your face.
"I'll be right back" he smiled at you warmly. he pulled off one of his rings and slipped it on your finger.
he walked out of his room and you heard him calling the pizza place before you slowly dozed off, your eyelids giving up on staying open.
---------------------------------------------
this was mostly for my comfort because something like that happened to me, but I didn't have anyone to comfort me. anyway, I'm sorry if you don't feel safe in your own home, home is a place where you should feel the safest but that's not always the case.
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melanieph321 · 11 months
Text
Ruben Dias x Reader - The Handyman 18+
It's the outfit 🙈 it's giving DIY Ruben.
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Summary - Readers apartment needs fixing and Ruben "The Handyman " comes to her rescue.
Enjoy!
It took you three days to put up the shower curtains in your bathroom. You guessed that putting up a small bookshelves should take you twice the amount of time. What did you know about putting up shelvs anyway?
The town that you lived in had a small hardware shop across from the café where you worked. You had never been in there before so showing up at 6 o'clock on a Tuesday night was a bit inconvinient.
"Hey."
A bell rang as you pushed the door open. The guy who stood behind the front counter was too busy tinkering away with scrap metal to catch your eye, so you shrugged your shoulders and continued down one of the aisles.
Tools and bolts hung on every wall. You bet your ex boyfriend knew all of terms for them as he usually was hostile enough to brag about what a handyman he was. Perhaps he was the reason why you were so stubborn about getting this bookshelf up as soon possible. You subconsciously wanted to show your ex that you were handy too.
"What do I need, what do I need?" You mumbled, having already collected a few things in your shopping basket. Mostly nuts and tape rolls. You had a screwdriver at home, so no need for a new one. A first aid kit would be a good investment, you thought. After all, this would be your first time putting up a shelf on your own.
"Do you need help?"
A giant shadow was casted around you as you stood facing a wall of hammers. Turning around you found yourself face to face with the guy from behind the counter. He had dark eyes that looked at you attentive and a scruffy beard that covered most of his face. His hair was more fluffy than scruffy and the same color as his eyes, dark, but not black.
"Um...no. Thank you. I was just..." You pointed to the basket in your arm. "...I was just collecting a few things."
His gaze shifted between your face to the basket in your arm. It took him long enough to give you any sign of a smile, you thought.
"I'll be up front if you need me." He said, pointing over his shoulder.
"Right, thanks."
He was strange, but undeniably handsome. He smelled good too, like mens aftershave with a dash of cinnamon.
You continued wandering up and down the aisle, not really sure what you were looking for. What did one need to put a piece of wood to a wall?
"Are you sure that you don't need my help with anything?"
It was they guy from the front desk again, casting a giant shadow as he stood hovering over you. He looked agitated that you were still in his shop, unsure of what to purchase.
"I'm sorry." You chuckled. "I'm putting up a bookshelf and I have a hard time deciding..."
"A bookshelf?" He said, peering into your shopping basket with a skeptical look on his face.
"Yes, a bookshelf." You frowned.
He shook his head. "Why the tape rolls?"
"Oh, that..." You looked into your basket, unsure why you suddenly felt embarrassed. "Everyone needs tape right?" You shrugged.
"Not to put up a bookshelf." He snorted.
You looked to the named tag pinned to his flanel jacket, Ruben, it said.
"Well, what do you know?" You hissed.
He raised a brow. "Well I know that my shop closes at seven. You've got five minutes to find whatever you're looking for and get out of here."
You gapsed. "That's not a nice way to talk to a costumer."
"Thank god you're not a costumer then." He smirked. "Costumers actually buy things."
"Okay, fine!" You shouted, stopping him from turning his back on you. "The truth is that I don't know the first thing about putting up shelves."
"No shit." He chuckled, but crossed his arms in front of him as to say that you had his attention.
"I just moved here. Usually my ex boyfriend handled these kind of DIY stuff but I'll be damn to call him and say I couldn't handle a month without him, let alone put up a bookshelves on my own. So if you please see the desperation I am coming to you with, you'll help me figure how to do this."
The guy, Ruben, stood quietly, observing you with furrowed brows.
"What?" You asked. The staring got to a point where it made unwanted heat rise to your face.
He sighed. "Give me a minute to close down the shop. "
"Your closing?"
He returned to the counter flickig off the lights on the go. "I'll get my toolbox and meet you around back."
"Um...okay. Meet me around back to do what exactly?"
"Well, you needed my help putting up a shelf didn't you?"
He went to get his toolbox and ten minutes later you were in his truck, making it's way to your apartment.
"Excuse the mess." You said, showing him how to maneuver around the moving boxes still scattered all over your apartment.
Ruben didn't seem to mind the mess though, perhaps he's worked constructions before.
"Here is the shelf and this is the wall I want it up on."
It was just a pile wood beneath an empty wall in your bedroom. You had gotten as far as to unbox the model and read the instructions, but you gave up after that.
"You said you had a screwdriver?" He said.
"Oh yes, I'll go get it."
You went to fetch the screwdriver. When you returned Ruben sat crotch down on the floor, reading the manual that came with the bookshelf. He had removed his flanel jacket, tossing it on your bed. He wore a white t-shirt underneath, a shirt that revealed his lean body and swollen biceps.
"Do you know how to turn it on?"
"Huh?"
Your eyes diverged from his arms back to his face. Ruben was watching you where you stood in the doorframe.
"The screwdriver? Do you know how to turn it on and use it?" He said.
"No." You shook your head and handed it to him. "Go nuts."
A smile carved his cheeks. "Sure, I'll go nuts."
What would have taking you three days to achieve Ruben did in fifteen minutes. The shelf was put up on the wall and topped up with books in no time.
"I have no words." You said as the two of you stood back, inspecting the way the shelf sat up on the wall.
"It's a nice shelf." He nodded.
"Thank you Ruben, I don't know what I would have done without you."
He stared at you with furrowed brows.
"What?"
"How did you know that my name was Ruben?"
"Oh." You pointed to his chest, where his name tag would be if he was still wearing the flanel jacket. "It said so on your name tag."
He nodded and went to gather his tools back into his box. You thought about giving him the screwdriver as a payment for his services, but perhaps you would need it later.
"You're welcome then Y/N." With the toolbox in the other, Ruben stretched out a hand for you to shake.
You frowned. "How did you know my name?"
"Oh I..." He scratched the back of his head. "You wear a name tag too, don't you?"
"I do?"
"Or I've seen you do at the café."
"Oh." You nodded. It was just across the street from the hardwear shop. He must be in there for a coffee every day, most people in town were. How come you hadn't noticed him before, you thought.
"I usually grab my coffee to go." He said. "And I usually come just before lunch when there is a line."
You nodded understandingly. "It can get pretty busy."
"But you seem to handle it quite well tho." He said, his eyes a bit hesitant to meet yours.
"I do?"
He shrugged. "You always have time to smile at your costumers, say  goodmorning and wish them a nice day."
"It just standard costumer service." You said flustered, praying that the heat in your face didn't show.
His smile was subtle but there. "This ex boyfriend of yours, is he from here?"
"No actually, I just moved here a month a go. I don't really knowing anyone here."
"Welp, now you know me." He said, shutting his toolbox.
"Now I know you."
Ruben led the way around your apartment back to the front door. He paused however,  at the sight of the mess in your living room.
"Is that supposed to be your dining table?"
"Suppose to be, is definitely the right word for it."
Ruben didn't hesitate to crouch down on the floor again, setting down his toolbox.
"Ruben you don't have to."
"I want to." He objected.
You were glad that he did because twenty minutes later you had gotten self a brand new dining table.
"Is there anything else that needs fixing?"
"Besides my pride?" You chuckled. "I don't think so. But thank you Ruben."
He looked at you with those eyes again, smiling at you without having to move a muscle.
You blushed without hiding it this time. There was no point in trying because Ruben was standing close enough to reach out and touch you, suprising you that he did just that.
"Y/N."
His hand wrapped around your arm, tugging at it slightly. The veins in his arms throbbed with the grip he had around you, pulling you forwards, towards him.
"Yes?"
There wasn't much to say before his lips crashed into yours. You had sensed the sparks between even back at the hardware shop. Ruben back you up against the newly built dining table, lifting you to sit on it with your legs spread before him. His hand grab your face, tilting it upwards as he kissed your lips. It was hot, so hot. You tugged at the sides of his flanel jacket, wanting it come off. He chuckled against your mouth before stepping away to throw it off his shoulders.
"Do you have a condom?" You asked, better be safe than sorry.
He pulled the rubber out of his back pocket, however, not ready to use it just yet. He returned to stand between your legs, pulling your face against his for another wet kiss.
"You're so fucking sexy." He groaned.
You gasped as his lips moved on to your neck where he licked and sucked you skin to the point of your eyes rolling back in your head.
"Ruben." You said, words airy.
"Yes?"
"Fuck me."
With one swift motion he pulled your shirt over your head. His hand went to your throat, guiding you down to lay with your back against dining table. You arched with the cold sensation from the wood. Rubens snaked a hand underneath for your back to stay arched. He unclipped your bra and ripped the rest of the fabric from your chest, exposing your errect breast.
"Ruben please." You couldn't take it anymore. His erection pressed against your thighs and all you wanted was for him to be inside you.
"Be patient baby."
"No, please. Fuck me now."
It had been a while and just by his touch you could tell that Ruben was much better at sex than your ex boyfriend ever was.
"So eager. " Ruben chuckled. His hand traveled down to your jeans, teasing you by pulling down the zipper.
"Fuck." You whimperd, when he slid his hand down your panties, finding your soft folds, massaging your clit.
"Yes, Ruben please." You were, close, so close.
"No." You whimperd, feeling his hand pull out of your jeans. You tried to sit up but Rubens hand on your stomach kept you down, pressed to the dining table.
"Together." Ruben whispered, his thumb stroking your bottom lip.
You grabbed a bundle of his shirt pulling him down to have his weight over you. His arms cradled your face as he kissed you open mouthed. Finally you felt him fiddle with his belt, loosen it up before pulling himself out of his pants, all this whilst his lips were still attached to yours. He backed away for a moment but only to tugg at your jeans, helping you remove them. Your naked legs were spread before him as you watched him bite the corner off the condom packaging, dressing hick cock with the rubber. You bit your lip as he approached you with a hungry look in his eyes.
"Don't move." He commanded, a firm grip around your throat, pinning you back against the table. He adjusted himself between you, lifting up your leg to make the entery smoother for you.
"Fuck." You still weezed, eyes squinted. Ruben was big, perhaps too big.
"You okay?"
You nodded, "Please harder."
He didn't listen to you but continued to press himself further into you, slow enough for you to adjust to his size. The thrusts came in waves. Slowly at first but then with a crashing force, rattling the wood beneath you.
"Don't break the table." You gasped.
He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll build you a new one." He upped the pace, filling you up with each thrust. It was over when he lifted you thigh to rest on his shoulder. Two pumps and that was it. You moaned his name for everyone to hear, coming down from the release with a pounding heart in your chest.
"Ruben?" You whispered.
He had come shortly after you, relaxing his body to rest on top of you.
"Ruben?"
You ran your hands through his now damped hair, releasing each knot with your fingers.
"Yes?" He mumbled, somewhere beneath you. He was still inside you, his dick twitching against your glistering folds.
"I have a lamp..." You said, no need to say more.
Ruben raised his head to look at you.
You smiled.
He nodded. "Alright, I'll be back tomorrow."
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cartoon-cass · 6 months
Text
Murder Drone episode 7 & 8 trailer analysis
This is the first bit of Murder Drone news we've had in a while so I'm biting at the chance to do some analysis. I'll do new dialog first as there isn't much of it.
"hahaha thanks for giving me the planet. Fricking idiot."
This is said by CYN or Absolute Solver, which ever one you want to call them. At first I thought this was a thing that happen in present time but that seems like a pretty big plot twist to put in the trailer so more then likely it's either what happen when Copper-9 core collapsed or what happened to Earth.
"All I know is I need you. [We'll] figure things out, together?"
I put the "We'll" in square brackets as I'm not a 100% sure that's what he says, theirs a loud crash right before it and there are no subtitles so can't be sure. N is not having a good time, poor baby. I'm guessing Uzi found out about the whole kill all infected worker drones and N is comforting her that he won't kill her.
On to the images now.
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This shot is pretty dark and we get no context about it but it appears to be some sort of man made cave system, with wooden support beams and a wooden crate with what appears to be an old timey gas lamp. The hole in the wall is made out of fleshy growths with human skulls and rib cages, the fleshy growths are reminiscent to other fleshy stuff the Absolute Solver has made and the human remains are likely from the scientist or other types of workers unlucky enough to be in the blast radius when the hole was created. My money is on one of those Null black holes like the one Uzi made in Episode 6.
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Uzi and N hug UwU. All jokes aside they appear to be in some sort of church, surprisingly clean for what I have to assume is god knows how far underground. The hug seems pretty desperate so they seem to have been separated from each other, as shown in the next shot, also Tessa or Doll are nowhere to be found.
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This is the best shot I could get of this scene. N is being dragged on the floor into the hole by eldritch hands, this seems to be the same spot as the first image. N is grabbing something and for the life of me I have no idea what it could be but N seems to think it's important, It's not a core, maybe a human heart but that is a big maybe, but it's my best guess.
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Here we see 2 sentinels chained up and a giant church, the sentinels are probably guarding it. At first I thought it was raining in this scene but on closer inspection it's actually stalagmites and stalactites, which means their definitely underground. there's a human skull on the bottom right and in red, possibly blood, is written null, there other words on the column right behind it too but it's to hard to read it.
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In this frame you can better see that there's a banner on the church that says, "Lab space for rent" there seems to be red tape on it with other text but that's way to small to even guess at what it's saying. There's also a miner helmet and a bloody pickaxe, given the blood I'm guessing this was for a human and not a drone.
The sentinels seem to be reacting to some sort of light but the source of the light is not seen but it's from above, which is why I first confused it for lightning but given their underground that seems unlikely.
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The only thing we see of Tessa and it's slamming Nori's locker closed, there was nothing in the locker if you were wondering. I love the little drawings, hopefully we get to see more of Nori she seems to be an interesting character .
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Something weird I noticed is that thing in the bottom left corner it's not there for one frame and the next it's there and I have no idea what it could be. It's probably nothing and maybe just a result of editing for the trailer but I thought I mention it.
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Look at them their so cute. I think they heard something and turn around to see what it is, likely after the hug but no idea. the light there facing is red and it persists throughout the next few shots too, maybe it's Doll, the eldritch thing from earlier or both, eldritch Doll.
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Uzi is holding a crucifix of all things??? Also Uzi does not seem ok, she seems to move weird.
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This frame shows that Uzi has some sort of image on her screen, or her screen is off with no eye lights and it's reflections, it's really hard to tell, but I think it's the first as the frames before this where her head is down has the same thing which wouldn't be if it's reflections.
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At first I thought there was a disassembly drone in the background but it appears to be a light fixture, though it doesn't seem to do a lot of help as it's dark as hell down there. Also Rip N's hand. I think there might be a N and Uzi fight but I doubt either of them wants that.
It's interesting their leaning heavily on the Christian theming, it's always been there, the disassembly have wings and halos, head band lights, and where even referred to as sky demons, but they've never been so upfront. If I'm reading them right N is meant to be an angel or a fallen angel and Uzi a demon but what that means for the episode I'm not sure.
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samd1o1 · 5 months
Text
Guess who has a signed Heartsteel poster in their room? 🧡🩵💚💜❤️💛
Yep, I was definitely in Seoul for World's and got my poster signed by the boys and definitely wasn't in my bed in Ohio watching the show at 3AM.
For real though, I thought it'd be fun to print myself out a signed Heartsteel poster since all of their signatures are online.
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Here's the poster! Sorry there's some pixels around their names, I didn't feel like trying to remove ALL of that. I hid some of it using their respective color's (which was a cooler idea than just black marker anyway). And uh you can say the extra white pixels reflect their glitchy hacker aesthetic or something.
Also I wanted to try and show all their personalities a bit. Sett covers himself up like a goof ball (would have done his face but wanted it to look good still). Aphelios' is just kinda there, basic, like his print signature, it's quick. Ezreal wants his name on him but not covering up too much of himself. Kayn is close by but not covering any of his beauty, ego too big. Yone's is sleek and neat. K'Sante's actually looks like a professional's in both placement and look.
Ok time to print!
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Uh so, I ran out of ink. So that sucks. I have to wait 2 days to get some new ink so long wait for a hyperfixated mind. Actually writing this draft to keep me sane. Anyway, I'm also getting some glossy paper for the final too!
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Anyway here it is on my wall! Yes it's shittly hung up with tape. It reminds me of the way I'd hang shit on my wall when I was younger, and their splash art reminds me of early 2000's boy bands.
I'll miss the era of Heartsteel. It's definitely my favorite thing League has done in awhile (maybe ever)! But luckily they gave us Hwei as compensation! Really excited to play him!
Bye now! 🩷
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dandylovesturtles · 7 months
Note
Donnie and Raph treat
I didn't really have anywhere to state this exactly but this is set pre-canon, Raph is 13 and Donnie is 12 here.
---
Raph's halfway through his workout when someone knocks on the wall outside his room. "Buzz off!" he yells.
The knocking becomes more insistent. He grits his teeth, not putting his weights down.
"Whatever it is, deal with it yourself."
"Oh Raphala," comes Donnie's voice through the curtain. "I require the assistance of my one and only older brother."
Raph sighs and puts the weight down, getting to his feet and yanking the curtain back with a snap.
"Someone better be dyin'," he says, before his eyes trail down from Donnie's face to the ziploc baggie he's holding in his hands. "...Is that hair?"
"Fur, to be precise. Rat fur." Donnie shuffles his feet. "...Splinter's fur."
Raph drags a hand down his face. "What did you do?"
"Well, I've been testing my new DNA analyzer. And Papa wouldn't give me a sample of his fur, so I thought I would procure one myself while he was taking his post-milk and cake nap, and... it would seem I... miscalculated and cut too much." He half-bows, imploringly. "I need your help to fix it."
"Yeeeaaah, this doesn't sound like my problem," says Raph, turning to go back into his room.
"Raph, wait! If Splinter finds out about this, he won't take me to the junkyard later! And I need parts for my new battleshell!"
"Still not my problem!"
"You're really going to abandon your little brother to his fate?"
"Yep."
"...Well, I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice: I'm telling Dad who broke his life-size Lou Jitsu cardboard cutout."
Raph whirls on him. "You swore to secrecy!"
Donnie crosses his arms. "That was before you turned me away in my hour of need, brother."
"...Argh, fine!" Raph waves Donnie forward. "Let's see the damage."
Immediately, Donnie is smiling. "Thank you for your cooperation."
Raph follows him to where Splinter is asleep in his chair, his snores echoing through the room. On his forehead is a very noticeable bald patch, jagged and uneven from Donnie's hack job.
"Why did you need to get so much!?" hisses Raph, voice low.
"I wanted to run several tests," Donnie answers, doing a terrible job at volume control. Thankfully, Splinter is too deep under to rouse at that.
"You couldn't just take it from his back!?"
Donnie holds up a finger and opens his mouth, then seems to think it over. Raph watches the gears turn, impatient.
"...An excellent suggestion that I'll remember for the future."
"Fine, whatever." Raph rubs at his temple, trying to think of a solution. He's too young for the wrinkles he's already getting. "Look, just... go to Mikey's room and grab some duct tape, then go to the bathroom and get that fancy hair gel Pops says he's saving for a special occasion."
"Duct tape, hair gel. Got it."
Donnie retrieves the items quickly enough, and Raph puts his plan into action. He folds the tape in a circle and presses it gently to the bald patch on Splinter's forehead, careful not to wake him. Then he sticks all the fur he can onto the tape. It doesn't all stick, but enough does that the spot is... mostly covered. Then he uses the hair gel to slick all the hair on Splinter's head down, so it's laying flat to match the taped part.
"There," he says when he steps back to admire his work. "It looks, uh... good?"
"I guess... it's not obvious... from a distance," says Donnie, uncertain.
"Look, it's just gonna have to work, because-"
"Mmwah... Purple? Red?"
Raph and Donnie both jump as their father wakes up, looking at them both suspiciously. "Why does my forehead feel... wet?"
"Oh, that's, uh... Donnie and I were just... givin' you a makeover!" says Raph quickly.
"What? Is that what we're going wi-" Raph elbows him quick in the side, and Donnie hisses a breath in before standing straighter and nodding. "Ah, yes! A makeover. That is definitely what we were doing, no ulterior motives here."
Splinter looks between them, his suspicion still evident. "A makeover...?"
"Uh, yeah!" Raph casts his gaze around, then grabs the first reflective surface he sees - an old hubcap they were using as a frisbee the other day. He lifts it, holding it out for Splinter. "See? Looks great!"
"Hmmm..." Splinter leans in, tilting his head this way and that in the improvised mirror. Raph holds his breath, and he can feel Donnie doing the same next to him.
"...Ahhh, I see!" says Splinter at last, grinning, and Raph sinks in relief. "I look even more handsome now. Thank you, sweet boys!"
"Heh, glad you like it, Pops!"
"I like it very much. I will look veeery spiffy for our trip to the junkyard." He looks at Donnie, still grinning as he tosses the hubcap aside. "Speaking of, I'll be ready to go soon, Purple."
"Yessss," says Donnie, doing some happy wiggles with his hands. Splinter nods at both of them, then hopes down from his chair and heads toward his room.
Raph watches until he's gone, then lets out a sigh of relief. "Can't believe he bought tha- oof."
He's cut off by Donnie suddenly throwing himself against his plastron, arms wrapping around him as much as possible. Raph can't help the rush of surprise at the gesture; Donnie hugs are rarer and rarer these days.
It's nice. Raph wraps his arms around Donnie and gives him a quick squeeze, only as tight as Donnie will allow, and thinks that maybe he doesn't mind helping him.
(In the end, his little brothers have him wrapped around their fingers.)
"Thanks, Raph," says Donnie when he lets go.
"Heh, yeah, yeah, just don't do it again." Raph shakes his head at him.
"I won't," says Donnie, and Raph knows that's absolutely a lie but doesn't call him on it. He glances back in the direction their dad went, and grimaces. "What are we going to do when he showers, though?"
"Let's just hope he forgets about this by then..."
...
It's the next morning when Splinter walks into the kitchen, still a bit damp from his shower and wearing one of his fluffier robes. Leo snorts as soon as he catches sight of their dad, bits of his frosted flakes spraying the counter.
"I didn't know rats got receding hairlines," he says, and Splinter glares up at him from the floor.
"What are you talking about, Blue?"
"I'm talking about your bad combover job," Leo says, his grin huge. "Come on, Dad, we're all bald, just own it."
Splinter frowns at him, reaching up to touch his head. "You are talking nonsense, Blue. I am not... not..."
He freezes when he touches the bald patch. Raph catches Donnie's eyes, but luckily Leo and Mikey are too busy looking at Splinter to notice their expressions.
"What... what has happened to my hair!?" Splinter yells, before running back out of the room. Leo cackles after him, and Mikey joins in with laughs of his own.
Donnie and Raph look at each other again, then both decide to become very interested in their cereal.
"BLUE!" Splinter comes back into the room like a whirlwind, leaping onto the table and smacking Leo across the wrists with his tail ("Ow!"). "What did you do to my hair!?"
"I didn't do anything!" Leo protests, but Splinter isn't having it.
"This is not a funny prank! You are grounded!"
"What!? But I really didn't do it!"
"No comics, no TV, no going to the surface!" Splinter continues, ignoring his pleas. "Not until my hair grows back!"
He storms out of the room, and Leo gets up and scrambles after him, continuing to protest his innocence.
Donnie crams one more big bite of his Cheerios into his mouth before looking at his bare wrist and saying, "Oh geez, is that the time? I have to go do something somewhere that isn't here." Then he flees the kitchen.
Mikey looks in the direction Leo and Splinter went. Then he looks in the direction Donnie went. Then he looks at Raph.
Grinning.
Raph sighs.
"There's ten bucks in my teddy bear stash."
"Thank you!" says Mikey in a sing-song, hopping off his stool and disappearing toward their bedrooms.
Raph runs his hands over his face.
Definitely wrapped around their fingers.
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thekrakenlolz · 2 months
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Start up fic - Ellie Williams x Reader (Part 2)
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part 1
Summary: You switch dorms at your boarding school after you and your girlfriend go through a messy break up and you no longer can handle being roommates with her. Only your new one is a different kind of problem
a/n: Hiiii, so I still don't know what the overall plot will be, so feel free to suggest any and everything. Sorry this is so incredibly short. In my defense, it's exam period and I really can't afford failing bio-med rn. This prolly isn't worth the wait but it is what it is. I swear a proper third part will be out on the weekend. And I'll come up with an actual name by then<3
As always, pls don't mind the grammar mistakes, English is my third language
°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-
You were stood on your bed, taping fairy lights to the ceiling.
"So, Ellie" you ripped another tape stripe off with your teeth "how long have you been here?"
"Oh uhh, since fifth grade" she hadn't expected you to start talking.
"Since the very start, huh?" You tore off another piece, readjusting it for the forth time.
"Yeah, I guess. You?"
"Tenth. So pretty recent. My parents thought it'd look good on my college application"
Ellie chuckled "this shithole, seriously?"
You moved onto posters "yeah, well, the name sounds high brow. Also the building looks very...... generational wealth-esque"
"If you say so." You could hear her shift in her seat "Probably aiming for a prestigious uni then. What do you wanna study."
You sighed, tossing the scotch role onto your desk
"Law"
"You don't seem too excited"
You jumped off your bed, taking in your work from a little distance.
"Yeah well, it's not really a choice. It's either law school or my parents pretty much withdraw financial support." You said, trying your hardest to sound nonchalant.
"Jeez, that blows"
You spun around, sitting down on the edge of your bed.
"Kinda. What do you want to do?"
She stood up, slinging her leg over to the other side and resting her arm against the back of the chair. You pushed down a smile, realizing she made the conversation 'official'.
"Not sure, but prolly astronomy." You scooched backwards and rested your back against the cold concrete wall.
"Oh, so you're smart smart." You flashed her a smile.
She rolled her eyes "says you, Mrs. Law school."
You dragged a fingernail across your knee, watching the now flaked off dead skin create a white stripe. "Oh please, wanting to go and actually getting in are two completely different things."
"Same thing goes for astronomy." She stated
"Fair enough."
Your gaze fell onto the pile of stuff Ellie had hastily gotten of your part of the room not so successfully hidden under her blanket. The corners of your mouth involuntarily rised up.
@bready101 @melissatheblob @elliesexual
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madhattersez · 1 year
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I finally got my hands on something I've been looking for (for a reasonable price) since I was just a lowly little level 12 hornball - A "Marvel Swimsuit Special!"
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This is the second issue in the series (though the third book of its kind), and it was released in 1993 when... times were different.
The coolest thing about them (other than the totally radical '90s hunkeroos and baberinos in general) is the amount of really talented artists that submitted pieces - So many industry-leading folks putting their spin on the self-aware, low-brow, tongue-in-cheek project.
This first image was by Joe Jusko, a super popular cover artist at the time. I remember his Conan covers the most.
I'll eventually scan the whole thing in high quality, but for now, I'll take some preview pics to show you some of my favorite and/or goofiest pages:
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Here is Domino, looking like we might need to race her to a Dermatology appointment. She's apparently tacky enough to wear a swimsuit with a domino print on it.
And check out Cable in the back - Sun's out, cyberbun out! He's ready to catch some waves on a totally-worth-the-money-and-production-time rocket-powered machine gun surfboard.
I really appreciate this artist's commitment to all the "Liefeld pouches" here. I hope they're waterproof, or all those Tic Tacs inside 'em are gonna get ruined. :(
Penciling by Chris Batista, ink by Hector Collazo, coloring by Mark McNaab.
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Let's kick off the "after the jump" part properly with this glorious image of Pip. Because this is certainly what people bought this book for.
It just so happens that this fuzzy little asshole narrates the entire issue, so he's to blame for the inherently sexist captions on all the pictures.
Jesus Christ, he's got two big toes on each foot.
Pencilking by Darick Robertson, ink by Andrew Pepoy, coloring by Tom Smith.
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I love me some Cloak and Dagger.
Tandy looks as gorgeous as ever. Surely she owns stock in boobie tape by now.
Tyrone, however, is getting so much sand stuck to him right now... I don't think he digs being used as a beach blanket. I'm... not even sure he's ever had to wash his cloak before today! Yikes. He's all like:
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Penciling by Joe Madureira, ink by Terry Austin, and coloring by Gregory Wright.
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I can't stop laughing at how much Thunderstrike looks exactly like the Genetic Freak, Big Poppa Pump Scott Steiner in this picture:
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The work is entirely by Lou Harrison. It may not surprise you to learn he's also a Fantasy artist.
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I've always had a thing for Silver Sable, and this page is just fantastic.
That being said, my favorite part is Sandman sitting there, looking like a dope, shaped like a sand castle. Which, while it seems silly, was probably the most challenging and detailed thing I've ever seen him do with his powers. Worth it for the shot, I suppose!
Line work and ink by Steven Butler, a favorite of mine. He did penciling for the "Silver Sable and the Wild Pack" series (which got me attached), but he's also known for designing the Scarlet Spider suit. Coloring by Gregory Wright.
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If you thought I wasn't going to Morb out on this post, you were undead wrong.
Just look at that ridiculous batpackage. Also... Is he really serving a cape over a leather jacket, but with absolutely no pants? Damn, dude.
Penciling by Gary Barker, ink by Jimmy Palmiotti, coloring by Tom Smith.
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I can spot Adam Hughes' work a mile away, wow. I guess I didn't realize he was doing work for Marvel this far back.
A fierce-as-ever, short-haired Natasha who looks like she got slammed so hard against a rocky wall that it cracked, got up, emptied out the rest of her clip, and still had enough time and energy to pose during a reload.
Black Widow, bay-bayyy. ♫
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Oh my god, Ghost Rider is just so naughty. Wearing nothing but his birthday bones.
This scene just looks like it smells awful.
Artwork by Tristan Shane.
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Shulkie in a metal bikini (function over fashion?), bursting out of the lava from an active volcano. You wanna talk "hot tub?" Sure, this gets a feature.
Penciling and ink by cover artist Steve Geiger, coloring by Paul... Mounts.
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Deezamn, Bishop. Never seen guy looking so buff before.
Instead of just Bishop, this looks like Hank McCoy and Bishop had a child together. Does he have any other mode than "arm vein p-pop?"
Penciling by Dwayne Turner, ink by Mark Farmer, coloring by Gregory Wright.
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Ah, one of the more famous '90s Psylocke images that wasn't done by Jim Lee.
This centerfold was used in lots of comic store ads for several years after this issue came out. I remember seeing posters in the shops themselves. Trading cards of this picture are one of the most costly to collect.
It's beautiful, and the colors/lighting/shading are all fantastic.
Penciling and ink by the wonderful Art Thibert, creator of the Raft max security prison and inker of some of the most iconic X-title covers.
Coloring by Paul Mounts, who did the coloring in hundreds and hundreds of just Marvel comics alone - I didn't mention that earlier because I was snickering at his name earlier in the She-Hulk feature. My bad.
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Well, this wouldn't be Tumblr without a cat picture, yeah? Or a catgirl picture, I suppose.
This is the most adorable scene in the book. Just Tigra innocently taking a cuddle nap with some... um... wow, I don't know what the fuck those things are. Snuggle up anyway!
Penciling and ink by Amanda Conner, coloring by Gregory Wright.
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Huh. Of all the characters in this book, I really didn't expect to see Dr. Cooper... Either which way, the swimsuit under the detective get-up is pretty choice, honestly.
This is, of course, another Adam Hughes line art joint. Ink by Mark Farmer, coloring by Gregory Wright (who did a lot of these, huh?).
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What's this? A parody ad that you'd more expect to see in an issue of "What The--?!" that only '80s kids will understand? Yup, totally.
This was in the back of the book and doesn't fit the theme at all, but it gets a mention because of the weird inclusion and also to stall time until I had the final image ready, because I needed time to prepare...
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THIS.
This is the one.
How could I not end this little "show and tell" without this beauty right here?
Here, we have remorseless killer Frank Castle flexing his best end-of-catwalk pose in front of a... wrestling match between a bunch of lady demon dinosaurs battling... for his affection? To tip him American cash? Or maybe all those hearts come from their love of beating each other up? I'm not here to judge.
And then there's a sign for 75 cent hotdogs, but it's been covered with another sign for... $20 tooth brushes? What in the shit is going on here?
There is one thing I do know, though. The artist wants you to think that The Punisher has at least $2.75 worth of hotdog under that massive crotch skull.
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sardonic-the-writer · 10 months
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𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐌𝐞𝐧
↳ summary: in which you send in an audition tape
↳ of monsters & men playlist: link
↳ of monsters & men masterlist: link
↳ next part!
masterlist!
You appear on a flickering screen with a slight curse, hands adjusting a camera that the audience couldn't see. It took a second of fiddling before the shaky footage smoothed out, providing a much cleaner look. After finding the desired position, you lamely flopped down in a chair behind you, arms crossed with a slight smile. A loose button-up and sweats clung to your figure comfortably, doing nothing for a fashion statement but looking nice enough. Surrounding walls were covered in cut out pictures and posters of various movies and shows, each more bizarre than the last.
After a beat of silence, you seemed to remember that you were supposed to be speaking.
"Er, hey." You clear your throat, tossing a quick wave at the blank stare of your camera lens. A quick introduction of your name was supplied to the device before continuing.
"Uh, I'm here to apply for Total Drama, but I think you already knew that. I know this season is supposed to be for past competitors only, but I figured why the hell not." That last sentence was accompanied with a shrug. "I know Chris won't pass up an opportunity for drama and more views, so maybe I have a chance. And if not I can always go back to applying for film school. Fun" You smiled bitterly at that.
"Little bit 'bout me I guess. I'm a film major, like I said, and getting on this show will help loads with my resume. Also maybe with my debt. That cash prize doesn't sound half bad if I'm being honest." You paused, eyes flickering off to the side of the frame in thought of something more. "I like to write too. Keep a personal journal just in case I ever catch a freak case of amnesia or anything like that. I'm not very athletic or the best at befriending people, but at least I'll be prepared in case one of your freak challenges knocks me upside the head."
A wry smile crossed your features.
"Anyways, that's about all from me. Hope I'll be seeing Camp Wawanakwa soon. Peace out." You waved once more before shutting the camera off. As you did so, static showed on the screen that a familiar man had been using to watch it. A chuckle echoed through the dark room as he spoke up excitedly.
"Oh, this will be fun!"
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mooncaps · 6 months
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Childhood Joy: Sailor Moon Edition
In the midst of re-examining my life, I've dug up a bunch of old photographs and I thought it might be fun to share some of these.
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I forget the year, but judging by the wrapping paper I'll assume this was a Valentine's Day gift from my mom. And of course I loved to make goofy faces for the camera.
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I think this was later that same day. The candy heart suggests that it probably was.
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Not sure what occasion this was, but I was very pleased with these curtains.
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This was one Christmas or another when I got Mercury and Jupiter.
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Me with some fanart I drew. Try not to get jealous of my artistic talent.
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Guess which bunk was mine, lol. (We did have matching bedspreads at one point.) I shared a couple of pictures of this ages ago on this blog.
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I loved this comforter. It's one of the things my grandmother made disappear when I made the mistake of leaving it at her house. Nearly 30 years later and I'm still kinda salty about it.
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This was my 9th Birthday. My mom made me a Sailor Moon cake.
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And she drew this super cool picture.
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I got a lunch box too.
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A Lego fanwork next to a shampoo bottle. Presumably I had used the bottle as a reference to try and approximate her design with the Lego bricks. I think my mom helped me. I shared another image of Lego Moon a while back.
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She was accompanied by Lego Mars. You can also see the lunchbox behind them and the curtains from earlier on the right.
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Not sure when this was, but there's Venus. I know I had Mars and Princess Serenity too, along with various other toys and VHS tapes, but I haven't found any photos of when I received them.
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And there's a season 2 poster I had on my wall.
These memories still make me smile. Sailor Moon was really important to little me. I'm sure I've talked before on this blog about some of the ways the show influenced me. I can also remember playing as Sailor Moon with my Crescent Moon Wand and Crystal Brooch. I think I remember accidentally leaving the Crystal Brooch outside one time and going out to find it the next morning after it had been rained on. I can remember brushing the hair of my dolls. For some reason I was determined to un-twintail Usagi's hair. I can remember doing several drawings of the characters.
I think I'd stay in the warmth of those memories forever if I could.
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cult-of-the-eye · 1 month
Text
False God
Statement of Saskia Rambeau regarding an unusual meeting. Original statement given 3rd December 2006. Committed to tape 29th March 2024. Audio recording by [REDACTED], Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Manchester.
Statement begins.
Oh, uh. Should I just...start? Well, ok, well- I guess I've never quite been a lonely person. Alone maybe, but it's, I've never found it uncomfortable. I have a small flat, I'm busy with my job as a software engineer, I never exactly found it easy to make friends. That's just how life is. Was. I guess.
Anyway, you don't want a sob story about my life, sorry! I, uh, first noticed something strange a couple weeks ago. Just some rustling outside my flat, which I chalked up to a cat or something, probably chasing some rat in a bush. That was, until I remembered that I lived on the top floor. It would be sort of impossible for a cat to be rustling outside my window on the top floor. I didn't go to check what it was, I'm not an idiot. I know what happens to people who are curious. It was only on the fourth night of the noises, when I was so delirious from anxiety that I had gotten less than an hour's sleep within those four days, that I cracked. I wasn't sure what I would find, just that I wanted to make it stop.
You might sit there and think, it's just a rustling noise, it's probably the wind or some piece of litter getting jostled through a drain pipe, but you don't understand. When you spend all that time with just your thoughts for company, going from screen to screen to the dark walls of your bedroom, it does something to you. And usually that's fine. Comfortable, even. But when that predictability is disturbed, you start to do stupid things, like walk up to your window with a kitchen knife tucked under your sleeve.
I inched towards it, moved more by adrenaline than coherency. The night was clear, weird for a Manchester night, but I wasn't focused on that. There was just enough moonlight to illuminate my hand and the little jutting out piece of brick just outside my window. Now that I think about it, it seems almost...intentional. I gripped on to the handle, took a few short breaths and wrenched the window open with a small shriek. There was nothing. Of course there was nothing. Of course I had tormented myself over a silly little noise for days on end, for nothing.
And then I turned around.
You know how different religions have different images of their gods? How some have 5 hands, others 10? Some view it as heresy to even try to imagine their god? Some have wildly different interpretations even within one singular religion. Describing what materialised in my bedroom that night, would sort of be like if you asked me to describe god. If you asked me 3 days ago, I would've said it was a bright, pulsating light, softening and sharpening my vision in tune of the beating of my heart in my throat. That night, I would've said it was insectoid, feelers twitching towards me in a curious manner. Yesterday, I wouldn't have been able to begin to describe the events of that night. But today? Today, it seems more like a- a deer. The one you see at 2 am on a country road, that stops you in your tracks, headlights shimmering off the darkness of their eyes. It's nothing you've seen before and you know it's nothing you'll see again. The only thing I can say with absolute certainty is that it was beautiful.
I'll be honest with you. I'm not sleeping. I quit my job. The couple of people I would occasionally talk to haven't seen me in weeks. I spend my days staring out that window, into the glorious light of the day and darkness of the night. Nothing can shroud the Holy One. Don't you see, Archivist? I didn't have anything before and now I have someone to serve. My god is benevolent, it has granted me a new chance at life. I know my identity, where I belong, clearer than I ever have and I think it's time you saw it too.
It will be beautiful.
Statement ends. Did not love that ending. The original copy came with a sealed container of what seemed to be...dust? It says "Do Not Open" and I've never been one for defying authority. Any attempted follow ups to this case have obviously led to dead ends. 2 weeks in and I'm already starting to see a pattern here. I'm...gonna...go get some water.
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