#but yeah. making me insane about them all over
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an open fly walking
i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now
TG: hey karkat
CG: YEAH?
===
TG: you ever noticed you like
TG: walk weird
CG: WOW, OKAY.
CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?
TG: pff
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TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity
TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but
TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man
CG: I DO???
TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault
TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale
TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity
TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it
CG: SERIOUSLY?
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TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but
TG: yeah
CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.
TG: im not fucking with you striders honor
TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything
CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.
CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.
TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me
CG: ON IT.
===
===
TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude
CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.
TG: dont your feet ache
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CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.
TG: damn i didnt think that through
TG: my shades
CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.
TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with
TG: ugh
===
TG: guess its karma
CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?
TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor
TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing
TG: just conjecture i mean
CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.
TG: yeah probably
CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.
===
TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets
TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot
CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.
CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.
CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".
TG: well look at it this way
TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass
TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol
CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.
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TG: also screw this can i use your shirt
TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up
TG: i cant see dick
CG: UH
CG: SURE, I GUESS.
TG: cool
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TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right
TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night
CG: YEAH.
CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.
CG: BUT
CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.
TG: see yeah i sound it off and
===
TG: wait really?
CG: YEAH
CG: I DON'T KNOW
CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.
===
CG: IT'S LIKE
CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.
CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.
TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing
CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.
TG: you think thatd be heroic or just
CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.
CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?
TG: hah
===
TG: but uh
TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth
CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.
CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.
TG: oh
CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.
===
TG: heh
TG: well get this
TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free
TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues
TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time
TG: take that and some of this
TG: im packin punches
CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!
CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.
CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.
CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.
TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here
===
CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?
TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given
TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool
CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.
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tired
paring: Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: explicit
warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED
a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago
word count: 2.6k
masterlist
Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it.
Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight.
That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.
You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.
“Hey, Joel, long night?”
Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.
You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly.
“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.
“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“
“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”
He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.
“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”
You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”
He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up.
Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t.
“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze.
“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight.
“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”
You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears.
You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.
“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.
Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.
“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath.
When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.
“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”
Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.
"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”
“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”
Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.
As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.
You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”
Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.
His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.
“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch.
You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.
“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.
“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.
When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.
Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.
“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.
Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.
Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.
One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.
The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.
“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did.
The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.
Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.
His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.
“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.
“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.
Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.
“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”
#iamasaddie fic#joel miller x reader#Joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you
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Can we talk about how rintaro probably swallows your engagement ring by accident?
Honestly? Okay listen… Do you think he swallows it? I think he swallows it.
Because like okay. Rintaro puts a ton of planning behind everything he does, he wants to make your engagement this massive scene out of a movie because you’re out of a movie; you swooped into his life and showed him the path he wants to be on, the one that always leads back to you.
But like. Why would everything not crumble around him each and every time he tries to work up the courage to finally pop that four word phrase?
It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy.
An engagement ring, propped on some frosting on the center of the cake, ready for you to scoop up and slip on and give him an excited yes and the world would clap and he’d get a Nobel prize or something for such an extravagant proposal.
Except. That doesn’t happen.
The first bite Rintaro takes, he shovels in his mouth nervously, and there’s a massive shock to his teeth when they clank down hard on the ring on his cake.
How he didn’t notice? How the waiter messed them up? He blames it on the waiter.
Him swallowing the ring..? Yeah no. That’s got him written all over it.
His nerves just got the best of him and sends the large diamond down his throat, eyes bulging out as he realizes. He chokes briefly, grabbing his wine and gulping it down to wash the jewelry down.
Uh oh.
“Baby?” You ask. “Something wrong?”
“…nope.”
The rest of dinner is silent, you trying desperately to make conversation and his mind going insane trying to process what to do next.
Your engagement ring, the object that completely envelops your love in a physical sense is floating in the acids of his stomach, and who knows what the next step in the plan is.
He dreads it.
The car ride is complete silence, you occasionally clearing your throat or sighing to try and strike a conversation, but Rin’s mind is on a complete other planet, trying to make a map of his next move and how to get the ring 1.) out of his body and 2.) to you.
Is he really going to give you a ring he ate? He can’t. That’s vile. But he can’t spend the money on another one, even if it is more than worth it to spend it on you, and-
“Rin,” you whisper, touching his thigh. “You just blew a red light.”
“Damn- I’m sorry,” he apologizes.
“Don’t be sorry… is everything alright?”
“Just fine.”
“Are you mad at me?”
His foot slams hard, hard on the breaks, causing commotion behind him as the wailing of car horns fills the air. “God, baby, no, of course not!”
“Then why have you been so quiet?” You ask sadly.
“I can’t tell you.” Out of embarrassment and stupidity, he thinks to himself.
You leave it at that. You go quiet again, and when he makes a move to rest his hand on your thigh, you turn away, and his whole heart sinks.
The rest of the ride home drags on. There’s no more attempts of noise, no more sighs or clearing of throats, only the roar of the engine for a few more miles until you get home. He barely gets the chance to park the car before you’re out and storming up the driveway, clearly upset with the situation. He sighs and follows you in, and you’ve hiked up the stairs to the bathroom. He winces at the slam of the door, and he’s quick to call osamu for advice.
Advice that the twin gives him around countless gawfs of unhelpful, judgmental laughter.
He tells Rintaro to calm down and stop being weird towards you- take a spoonful of laxatives mixed in with water and let the body “process” for as long as it needs to. Get you a new ring, trash the old one and mourn the loss of money after you two get engaged.
He sighs and ends the call, making his way to the upstairs bathroom where he keeps the medicine. You brush past him in a towel, refusing to acknowledge him or his presence with so much as a “hmph.”
The shower he takes alone is cold, his mind is loud and his heart is pounding and his stomach queases for more than a few reasons. How could he have messed this up so badly? It was supposed to be cute! Just flashy enough for him to flaunt you, but simple enough to not be messed up.
Yet he messed it up.
Rintaro dries himself and makes his way into the bedroom, where you’re already burrowed under the covers on your side of the bed. He throws on some form of pajama before making his way downstairs to make his laxative drink.
One tablespoon of laxative mixed with water, allow body to process for one day before repeating, let all powder dissolve before drinking- he follows every single one of the thorough instructions completely, and he starts to drink the concoction with a scowl of disgust.
The hell is this made out of?
“What’re you still doing up?” You ask, and he swallows the last of the laxative with a wince.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he confesses. Then, he sighs and turns to face you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know.
You’re still upset.
“Listen,” he begins, carding a massive hand through his hair. “About tonight. It was absolutely nothing you did. It was my fault, and my annoyance and attitude had nothing to do with you.”
“Okay,” you sigh, but there’s an unconvinced lilt in your voice.
“I wanted this to be a perfect night, I wanted it to go so well-“
“Rinnie?”
“And I’m sorry, about my silence in the restaurant,” he sniffles, big hands pressing against his face and rubbing roughly. “The chef was supposed to put it on our cakes and his little rat waiter messed it up, and-“
“Put what on our cakes?”
“YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING!” He groans in complete agony. “Your ring! Fuck! I tried so hard to make the perfect proposal, and I just wanted it to be beautiful-“
“My… my ring?”
“Uh…. Yeah?”
“My engagement ring?”
Your bottom lip wobbles, and he feels like he’s going to upchuck every bit of food he’s ever eaten.
Though that may not be the worst thing at this point.
“You wanna marry me?” You wail, collapsing to your knees in excitement. He perks up slightly, slipping of his seat to join you on the floor.
“Of course I want to marry you,” he confesses. “God, I’ve… I’ve wanted to marry you for the past three years, I got the ring perfect four months ago.” He blinks out a line of tears to mimic yours, and you cup his cheeks in your trembling palms. “But every time I tried to propose, something went wrong, and I… I didn’t know how to do it anymore. I’m sorry baby…”
“Rintaro,” you say softly, chuckling around the your quivering voice. “I never needed a big proposal. Ever. All I ever want is for you to promise me we’ll be together. And that’s more than enough.”
His face softens before he lets a hand smack his face in obliviousness, disappointed in himself that he got so lost in trying to impress you that he almost didn’t.
“Put it on me!” You squeal, holding out your hand. He turns a scarlet red and looks away.
“I uh… I can’t.”
You deflate slightly, and he gives you an embarrassed smile. “Why not?” You whimper, emotionally fried from the rollercoaster he just put you on.
“I don’t have it.”
“What!”
“I mean, technically i do,” he says, gnawing his lip. “But I… uhm… I can’t give it to you yet. I uh… I need a few days. And… a few cleaners to look at it.” He gives you a shy chuckle and his toothy grin is mixed with frightened eyes, and your own widen. “The uhm… the ring was on the cake…”
Your hands clasp over your mouth, tears immediately drying and replacing with small, choked and stifled laughter.
“You didn’t,” you manage. He nods, uncomfortable. “Did… did you eat my ring, Rintaro?”
“It wasn’t my fault! Damn waiter gave us the wrong cakes!”
“AND YOU SWALLOWED IT?”
“I WAS NERVOUS, OKAY?”
“RINTARO!”
You two clutch each other on the cold kitchen floor as you laugh, heads knocking against each other as you steal kisses from between cackles.
“I’ve got an idea,” he says once you’ve both seemed to calm down, and he quickly pops on his feet to grab the bread on the counter. With the twist tie, he takes it off the bread and makes his way back to you. “Give me your hands.”
The tie only fits around the top part of your ring finger, and you sniffle softly at how silly and sweet this whole thing is.
“We’re gonna get married,” he says between an emotional wheeze. “And we’re going to grow old together, have our nine dogs and four cats.”
“No kids?”
“Ew gross.”
“Yeah, sure, as if you don’t bend to my every whim bro.” You shift slightly to rest your back against his chest, curling against his still sitting frame. “And our kids are going to love the Miyas-“
“Because you love the Miya’s. I have nothing to do with that.”
“As if Osamu’s not going to be your best man,” you scoff. He smirks and buries his face in your hair, listening to your words weave through his brain and calming him down from the disaster of a night.
Then, he hums, “you want to take my last name?” He asks, and you give him a small swat on the leg. “What! Im just asking!”
“Of course I’m going to take your last name,” you say, turning your head up to face him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, tearing up again when you nod.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
#THIS HAS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR SO LONG DAWG#GOOD LORD#suna rintaro#suna rintaro fluff#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro x reader fluff#suna rintaro x gn!reader#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna#suna fluff#suna x reader#suna x reader fluff#suna x gn!reader#suna imagine#suna haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n
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We Might As Well Try || Jessie Fleming
summary : you're pretty sure if you tried hard enough, Jessie could somehow put a baby in you. With scientific testing, of course.
warnings : smut. strap on's, fingering, cunnilingus. breeding kink.
“Jessie, look!” you whine, walking past some baby clothes. You turned to see Jessie smiling softly as you picked up the smallest pair of Air Force One’s you’d ever seen.
“Aren’t they the cutest thing?” you sigh, putting them back carefully.
“Not as cute as you, angel,” Jessie said under her breath which you heard, sending a deep blush up your cheeks in the middle of JD. Your fingers grazed all the tiny onesies and little jumpers in the baby section of the store, Jessie following behind you secretly taking a picture of all the pieces you liked.
“I want a baby so bad,” you sighed as you slipped into the passenger seat of her car. You were pouting, sadly putting your seatbelt on.
Jessie on the other hand felt like she was about to combust on the spot. Her heart was racing and her ears were ringing. She felt her hands get clammy and her mind struggling to focus on how to get you home safely without jumping you in the backseat of her car.
You were going on and on about your little nephew who was just about to turn 6 months old. Your sister had just gone back to work permanently and you were more than happy to babysit when she needed since you worked from home.
Every time Jessie came home after training and was met by a mess of toys in her living room and her favorite person playing with her favorite person’s favorite person (she took no offence to not holding the title herself, admitting she was jealous of a baby was “apparently childish,”) she felt her heart almost give out at the thought of the scene in front of her with a child of her own. A little girl that had your eyes or a little boy that had her smile was something she wished she could make happen ASAP.
Jessie sits in the driver’s seat, pondering deeply about how she was going to go about this. She didn’t want to scare you or make you feel uncomfortable. She wanted what she knew you wanted too but her shy nature was holding her back.
Her worrying came to a screeching halt when the next day she saw you holding your nephew in your arms so close. She physically felt her ovaries burst inside of her. She felt her heart erupt in pure affection for you. It was like she was high on drugs.
Later that night in bed, she turned over and gently took the book in your hands away from you. You were about to grumble at her when you looked at her face and saw that she was nervous. Uh oh. That’s not good.
“What is it, Jess?” you asked cautiously, turning over to get more comfortable under the sheets.
“Today, seeing you with Micah,” she pauses, biting her lip.
“Yeah?”
“Iwantababywithyoubutialsowanttoputitinyouandiknowthat’snotpossiblebutwhatharmisthereintrying?”
“You wanna try that again but slow?” you tell her sarcastically, with raised eyebrows.
“I want a baby with you, but I also want to put it in you and I know that’s not possible but what harm is there in trying?” Jessie said in one breath, panting by the end of it.
“Excuse me?”
“Wait, you don’t want kids?” Jessie exclaims, sitting up in bed suddenly. Her face changes and she starts to turn red from embarrassment.
“What, no! Of course I do! It’s just,” you pause, thinking about her ringing request in your head, “that last bit…I think it’s possible.”
It’s Jessie’s turn to raise her eyebrows and look at you like you’ve got three heads and a peanut for a brain.
“That’s not possible.”
“I think it is.”
“I don’t have a dick.”
“You’ve got a plastic dick. It’s in the name, Jessie.”
“Still not possible.”
“I just think people haven’t been trying hard enough.”
“You’re insane.”
“And I want a baby,” you tell Jessie, scooting closer to her, lips pressed right on her ear.
“I want your baby. One you put in me.”
Jessie Fleming was very sure that she had just passed away. Her heart stopped and her brain short-circuited the moment the words left your mouth. She felt her hands move on their own accord, grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of her.
You gasped, settling on top of her with just a nightgown on. Her hands caressed your hips. Her eyes focused on your breasts. Her mind was in the gutter and she could not give a fuck.
“Fuck, her child-bearing hips,” she thought, hands grasping them.
“Those full fucking breasts,” she moaned audibly, biting her bottom lip. You had an idea of her thoughts, grinding gently down on her middle. You were sure if she did have a dick that worked, it would be poking you. But the idea that she had hers on her bedside table, ready to go, for hours and hours on end was far more exciting. Plus it had a person on the other end who wanted to make you feel good and cared more about your pleasure than theirs.
Now that Jessie had her thoughts collected, she threw you off her and pinned you down, hands holding your wrists above your head. She kissed all along your nape and suckled long on your neck, which left your legs trembling and pussy throbbing.
“I think we might as well try to put a baby in you, shall we? Could be important you know, for science or some shit.”
“…For science?”
“Yes. Now are we going to try or not?”
Jessie’s fingers slipped between your legs, cupping your core gently. She smiled, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. Three of her fingers slowly rubbed wide circles, lips kissing along your nape over the marks she was leaving.
“Do you want me to put a baby in you, sweetheart?”
A deep shiver goes straight down your spine. You’ve never been so turned on in your life, you have to hold yourself back from cumming right then and there.
“Yes, please.”
“Remembered your manners, such a good girl already.”
She gently slipped off the bed, eyes locked into yours. She smiled, rummaging in the bedside table for her harness. You watched eagerly as she slipped it on and pulled out your favorite toy. You grinned and played with your breasts softly, kneading them in your hands and feeling your nipples harden. They poked through your baby blue gown, sensitive as you flicked your finger over them through the fabric.
Jessie’s eyes darken as she looks at you. You bite your lip and turn over, pressing your ass high up. She groans and watches the fabric fall smoothly over your hips. Feeling her eyes on you, you wiggle your way out of your ruined panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.
Jessie’s hands pull your hips close to the edge of the bed, yanking your knees wide open and your pussy exposed. Two fingers slip straight into your wet hole, aimlessly jabbing themselves into you. Your whines muffle into the mattress, Jessie’s fingers curling down into your sweet spot with every alternate push of her fingers. Her tongue slips in to suckle at your clit, feeling it throb on the muscle.
“Is this the pussy I’m gonna fill with a baby, baby?” Jessie coos, caressing your ass softly. You whine, feeling her fingers fill you till the webbing. They feel full, knuckles dragging against the ridges inside you.
“Yes, p-put a baby in me please!”
“It would be my pleasure,” Jessie smirks, pulling her fingers out and slipping her cock straight into you. It’s thick and deep, filling you in ways her fingers could only dream of.
Jessie threw her brown hair back and grinned, hips thrusting hard and fast into your pussy. There were squelching and slapping sounds that reverberated around the room, turning you both on immensely.
She doesn’t seem to slow down, hips pistoning into your core like there was no tomorrow. Jessie presses your chest down into the bed more, almost standing above you to thrust into your wet pussy. Her knuckles were almost white with how tight she held you in place, muscles rippling in all the right places.
You sputtered and took all that she gave you, head spinning with pleasure as your lover used you in the name of science. You reached back to hold her hand and felt your heart grow fonder when she took it.
She gently moved you onto your back while keeping her cock inside you, lips pressed softly against your nose.
“I love you,” she muttered, kissing you briefly.
“I love you too, Jess,” you tell her, cupping her cheek as you feel her hips begin to speed up again. In this position, she’s able to lift your hips just a tad to get the angle she needs to pound right into your sweet spot.
The spine-tingling squeal you let out at one particular thrust told her all she needed to know.
“There, babygirl?”
“Right fucking there, Jessie!”
You see white and feel your insides knot up before the wave of intense pleasure washes over you.
But Jessie doesn’t stop or slow down like she normally does.
You’re pretty sure she’s speeding up.
“Jessie!”
“Fuck babe,” she pants, thrusting wildly. She looks up at you and you’re sure you’ve never been more in love with her as her next words leave her lips.
“Want me to come in ya?”
Your brain short-circuits and you can almost feel the little people in there scrambling to fix the problem so you can answer her.
“Fuck yes!”
Five more powerful thrusts and you feel Jessie trembling on top of you. She whines your name as she comes, legs turning to jelly and cock slipping out. She pushes herself off you and you crawl into her side, kissing her jaw softly.
“I think that worked, Jess.”
“We’ll send your mum the ultrasound so she can boast to her book club.”
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming imagine#jessie fleming x reader#woso#woso imagines#woso community#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso fanfics#woso smut#woso soccer
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・❥・- just for you.
summary: kate takes her anger out on you after a hard loss. (more gentle tho cause she doesn’t have the heart to hurt you 😞😞😞) + lil bit of aftercare at the end ;3
warnings: 18+ ASFUCK! SMUT MDNI! strap on use… lol
RPF!
a/n: ik i been lacking recently but i’ve grown some more motivation to do something since i’m kinda stuck at home. also almost broke my arm yesterday hahah 🥸 also not much dialogue tbh i’ve never been good at that cuz i dont talk to ppl 😭 AND i didn’t know how to end sozzzzzz!!!!
it was the toughest lost of kate’s college career, especially considering the fact that it was her last year at UOI. the only thing she wanted was to have the championship title, just once. but the team couldn’t do it.
you saw her put all her blood sweat and tears onto that court. the way she tried to make as many shots, as many blocks as she could, and as many fouls as she could draw. the way you watched her cry while she walked into the tunnel absolutely broke you.
when she got home the air between you two grew extremely thick. you couldn’t tell if she was angry or even over it at all. she wasn’t crying, just real quiet. and being the good girlfriend you were, you didn’t bother to push any of her buttons, no matter how much you wanted to just keep her company.
kate would either be sitting on the couch, on her phone, continuously walking around the apartment, sitting in random spots on the floor, in the kitchen. she’d be anywhere and everywhere. all she wanted to do was get her mind off of it, for a little bit.
“are you okay?” you speak amidst the quiet environment that had been lingering for god knows how many hours. you didn’t try to speak either because it felt like she’d just ignore you or give you a nasty look cause she wasn’t feeling so good about it. “i’m fine.” kate murmurs and looks up at you from the clasped hands on her face. the tone she gives you makes it known that she isn’t.
“yeah, right.” a scoff leaves from your lips and the mood changes almost immediately. your eyes dart towards kate and the look that she’s giving you makes it feel like a million daggers are being dug into your back. her face stiffens up and so does your body when you realize that she’s 100% angry.
you know that it isn’t your fault, but now it really feels like it was. “do you think that’s funny or something?” when you hear that, it’s obvious that you’ve fucked up. you can’t muster up anything in response cause you know that it’ll make it worse. not for her, but for you.
but there’s just something about kate that drives you insane when she’s fired up.
“no.” you swallow.
“exactly! don’t fuckin’ go around and laugh about it, if it isn’t funny! are we clear?”
she grunts and lets out a heavy breath when you stand there all quiet and unresponsive. she hates that. its the one thing that makes kate tick the most, other than losing a game that important to her. “answer me.”
you don’t respond. and the look of anger on kate’s face grows much more apparent. “c’mon!” she groans and quickly slides off of the bed. her fingers grip at the collar of your shirt, her rapid breaths brushing harshly against your face.
she tugs your body up against hers and a small whine escapes from in between your lips. kate is giving those eyes that make you shiver all over the place. “y- yes, we’re clear…” you choke out and look away. you can’t stand seeing her angry but its also the fact that it turns you on too.
your voice makes it seem like you aren’t very sincere about saying that though, and that makes her tick even more. kate’s teeth grit together and a sharp breath makes its way through them, her fingers inching closer towards the waistband of your jeans.
“yeah? you sure?” kate teases and starts to unbutton them. her voice deepens and the cold air that meets your now exposed skin makes the shivers feel more like a billion daggers going through your body. her hands cup your waist, a newfound lust taking over the look in kate’s eyes. “doesn’t seem so sincere…” she husks out.
“i mean it! god, you can’t believe me even when i mean it the most.” you sigh and stare at the jeans puddling around your feet. when you bend over to pick them back up and put them on again, kate’s fingers wrap around your sleeve and she pulls you up, drawing a quiet ‘tsk’ sound from your mouth. “just… let me fuck your brains out until i get you to really mean it.”
she tugs you up against her again, her front subtly grinding against yours. and now you can actually feel it. her stupid fucking strap. your eyes dart towards hers momentarily before they inch away. the embarrassment you feel is incredibly strong. you’re wet, and now you can’t even look her in the eyes.
before you even get a chance to speak, kate’s hand falls on the dip of your back and you’re face first into the foot of the mattress. the side of your head presses against it again to get a breather, the sound of kate unzipping her jeans rapidly, and the tip of the strap making contact with your body.
one of her hands grabs both of yours and pins them backwards, the other hand trailing up and down your body and towards the waistband of your panties. in one swift movement, they’re off and on the floor. you have no clue where, but they’re somewhere in that room. as much as you’re trying to resist, you can’t
“c’mon, baby. don’t fight it, please.” kate pleads and leans over your body to bury her face into your neck. her teeth dig into the side of it and you let out a wince, struggling to move your hands while she keeps them in a lock. kate’s breath tickles at your skin while she pulls away, the hand she has on your waist moving away to line herself up with your entrance.
she doesn’t even give you a warning before she slides in. the only thing that makes it known that you’re getting absolutely filled up is the groan kate lets out when she goes in all the way. you let out a huge whimper and eventually start to feel it. “fuck!… oh my god.” you babble and feel kate leaning toward your face again, her breathing hitting your skin, leaving behind dark marks on the base of your neck.
the more you moan and whine into the sheets, the more it fuels her to keep going. she thrusts into you as hard as she can, her hand letting go of the two she’s been holding, and yanks at your hair to pull your head up. “you fuckin’ feel that, baby? that’s all for you.” kate grunts, smashing her lips against yours and pulling your hair again. “just for you..” a hurried ‘mhm’ escapes your lips, your voice left limited.
your whimpers mix into the kiss as you constantly punch at the bed the harder she drives into you. her teeth tug at your bottom lip and your head moves away the more you feel yourself start to sweat uncontrollably. hair sticks to the side of your head and to your forehead, kate gently brushing them out of your face to keep that prolonged eye contact.
“you’re so beautiful, i swear.”
“hmphh—! you’re going too-“
you get cut off the second you feel the turns in your stomach and the blood rush to your face. that familiar feeling burns brightly in your belly and the knot that had been there forever finally becomes undone. you end up finishing, the overwhelming sensation dying down almost instantly.
kate rolls off of you and notices the water buildup in your eyes, her thumbs running across the bottom of them to wipe them away. she lets out a small sigh and scoots a little bit closer to you, eyeing down the hickeys she left on your skin. “i’m sorry, baby.” she whispers softly and cups your face with her palms.
her lips connect onto your neck and she peppers gentle kisses all over each hickey. the contrast from her rough nature to eventually turning into that natural soft, sweet woman you fell in love with the second she sees you like this. “let me fix you a warm bath, okay? for the troubles.” she whispers in between smooches, her hand snaking up your shirt, and her nails dragging softly against your back.
“duh. you know just how i like it.”
“why would i not.” she lets out a scoff and pulls away quickly, a small smile crossing her face when you agree. “was that a scoff?” you mutter and raise your eyebrows. hers do too, and her lips narrow into a straight line. “what about it?”
well, that was the small thing that got you here in the first place.
#be gentle abt this one i know it lowk sucks#kate martin#kate martin x reader#wcbb x you#wbb x reader#wcbb x reader
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engagement shoot - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #8)
"How many hours is that?" Tim blinks incredulously at your screen.
"Fifty? I've been grinding all my free time on this game. It's concerning."
"Alright, come on. You have a paper due and we need to take the engagement photos."
"Oh!" You gasp. "Wait, I have a photo — not that we have to use it, but a stranger took photos of us running at the beach during a storm in our wedding attire and somehow found me. We look super cute."
Tim looks over your shoulder at the photos, humming as a smile spreads on his face.
"You look happy."
"No shit, sherlock. You look like your cheeks hurt in the photo too."
"I suppose it did." Tim hums, scrolling through your phone as you hand it to him. "I think we're both happy."
"Yeah, I'd hope so." You hum. "Why are we taking engagement photos? Aren't we already married?"
"Bruce wants something to put on the fridge."
"Are these photos not okay?"
"I want a red booklet." Tim deadpans.
"WHAT."
"I want a red booklet." He deadpans. "I want to be able to flip out our marriage photos at any chance."
"A lockscreen's not enough?"
"You're the one who thought it was cute." Tim hums. "And don't worry about the legality of all that stuff. They make unofficial ones for foreigners who wish to participate."
"Wait. You're flying there just for a red booklet?"
"And to visit your family. Your aunts keep texting me to stay for longer this time around."
"And my dad?"
"He's still at work."
"Do they not make them here?"
"Do you not want to go back? Besides, don't you want an insane set of photos for our wedding?"
"We're having a wedding?!"
"If we have a wedding."
"The venues there are pretty..." You mumble. "or, you spend four times the prince to have one in Gotham."
"Pretty bird, your husband's a billionaire."
"Ah, ah, ah." You shake your finger. "Your dad's a billionaire."
"I'm a millionaire. Close enough."
"That's a three-digit difference." You hum. "I don't mind hosting it in Gotham, though."
"We can plan that for later." Tim sighs. "Aren't you longing for wedding photos that people will look back on and go "holy fuck they were hot?"
You purse your lips and pretend to think. "Mayyybe."
"Oh, you know what? It'd be hilarious for your sibling's children to say that." You mumble. "Who's that weird aunt with no kids?"
"Who's that weird uncle who will not shut up about our aunt?"
"I bet Bruce is going to have the time of his life."
"Do you think he's ever going to settle down?"
"With the way the writers can't decide who to have him marry? No."
"Stop breaking the fourth wall."
You stick your tongue out at him.
"So... wedding photos?"
"Yes." You grin.
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Mirrors to the Soul
Rating: General
CW: Past Parental Death, Grief/Mourning, Sick Parent, Stroke, Brief Homophobic Slur (Almost Forgot to Tag)
Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Soft Eddie Munson, Soft Steve Harrington, Love Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Reflections, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Dialogue Heavy
Two fics in one day? Why, yes, I am insane.
🫂—————🫂
The air was chilling tonight. Sweeping by and prickling on Eddie’s cheek. Sky was clear. Except for the stars. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this many, not all at once, not during a time like this. His lungs burn gently, the crackling of his cigarette a lull within the buzz of nocturnal mosquitos.
There’s nothing to do. Nowhere to be. The trailer’s roof is cold against his back. And his mind is wandering. To everything he could imagine. Dustin’s recent try at a Hellfire campaign, Mike’s new guitar hobby and how he’s actually good, Lucas’s attempt at passing Eddie the ball (only for the ball to not be caught and instead hit him square in the chest), Robin’s date with Vickie, and Steve’s snores after a long Family Video shift. Life’s actually decent. It’s warm in the community he’s created. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Even if it means losing his mom over and over and over again. The pain that was left. Her last goodbye. Which wasn’t really an exchange of words, but her eyes. Oh, her eyes.
Somebody is clambering up the side of the trailer. Thunking and hefting and panting slightly. And then, the top of Steve’s head is popping up. His hair askew, face slack, mouth glistening a bit with drool. “What’re you up here for?” Steve asks him sleepily.
“Thinking,” he answers softly. Opens up his non-smoking arm and gestures for Steve to come on over. Relishing in the way Steve’s head rests on his shoulder when he gets himself settled, the ability to tighten an arm over his broad shoulders, and the heat that radiates from him. “What’re you up here for?”
“Woke up,” Steve mumbles, “you weren’t there. Got worried.”
Eddie hums. “Sorry,” he whispers, “just got caught up in my thoughts. I’ll come back—“
“What’re you thinking about? Y’know, if you’re okay sharing.” Steve nuzzles his cheek into Eddie’s bony shoulder. His lips dragging over the threadbare t-shirt underneath them. The heat and plush quality of them felt.
“Not an exact thing, really,” Eddie answers honestly. “Just sorta…I dunno. Let myself be proud of Mike and Dustin. Remembered the pain of that basketball Lucas tossed at me. Got excited about the juicy details I’ll get from Robin later. Was thinking of how nice it is to hear you sound asleep after a long, grueling day.” He cups his hand over Steve’s right shoulder. Pressing it into his shirt, dragging it down to his bicep, and back up to his neck. Lays his palm flat against the exposed skin there. Frowning, though Steve can’t see him, at the temperature. “Mm, you’re warm. You feeling okay?”
Steve nods sluggishly. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “just…y’know me. Space heater.”
Gently, Eddie tucks his head down to land a quick kiss to Steve’s forehead. Feeling how Steve scrunches his eyebrows, then raises them in contentment. He reaches out his left hand blearily to the extra space on the roof, puts out his cigarette, and then wraps his now free hand on the middle of Steve’s back. Pulls him in a little closer and looks back up at the spatter of stars.
“Wayne…Wayne asked me if you’ve talked about your mom at all,” Steve says slowly. An edge of confusion to his words. “Told him no. He thought that it was weird. Is—Should you be talking about your mom or something?”
Tracing a finger down the ridges of Steve’s spine, Eddie makes a non-committal grunt. “I mean…I don’t have to,” he states quietly, “it’s just. It’s the anniversary I came home to Wayne. Her funeral.”
“Oh,” Steve breathes. “Oh. I—I’m sorry, Eds. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t—“
“Shh, sweetheart,” he coos. Runs his palms soothingly up and down Steve’s torso until he goes lax against his shoulder again. “I know you didn’t know, it’s okay. I was already thinking about her anyway.”
Steve goes extremely quiet for several minutes. Enough for the mosquitos to take that as invitation, to buzz and hum louder. For the neighborhood stray dog to start digging at the chainlink fence. The neighbors a few trailers down to start up another argument. He eventually sighs, though. Lays his palm over Eddie’s belly and strokes his thumb in counter-clockwise circles. “What were you,” he asks hesitantly, “what were you up here thinking about?”
Eddie takes a hesitant gulp. Hopes Steve doesn’t hear it. Or the shutter of his next inhale. The sudden lurch in his chest. “Oh…I thought about her eyes.”
“Her…Her eyes?”
Instinctively, Eddie squeezes them closer together. As if Steve’s his childhood teddy bear. “Yeah,” he breathes, “her eyes.” His throat clicks with his next swallow. And briefly, he wishes he didn’t have to keep explaining himself. Or the nature of his parents. But he was already thinking about her. God, he was thinking about her. “Have you ever—you probably haven’t—but you ever see somebody say goodbye without using their words?”
“Sure,” Steve says quietly, “Honestly, Billy had this look to him before he…I couldn’t care at the time. But I—That look haunts me. Defeat, I think. It was the towel being thrown in, y’know?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah, it’s like defeat. It’s…I think it’s one of the worst ways somebody can look at a person. I think somebody who looks like that knows, too.
“It’s weird. She was sick on and off for years. Just had a slew of health issues. Blood pressure and strokes and things like that. So, her…Watching her go shouldn’t have been a surprise. I’d been expecting it for a long time. Like so long, in fact, that I always had this motto about her: “She’s going to go, so you need to be ready.” That’s what I used to tell myself.”
“Eddie,” Steve mumbles, “that’s—“
“Awful?” He questions softly. “I know. But when someone enters your life and you build your whole world around them and then they just—
“She didn’t care, is the thing. Didn’t care for herself. Didn’t try. Didn’t want to most days. It was always this—this thing with her. I’d help her sort out her pills, I’d be the one to put her to bed on her worst days, I was always there to hold her hair back or to wipe her skin or to just make sure she laughed. But…Some days it just felt like she didn’t put in the effort,” he explains fiercely, yet quietly. For a moment, he takes a deep, strangling breath. Letting it go just as he presses firmly on Steve’s shoulders, as he lays his cheek on Steve’s freshly cleaned hair, and recalibrates.
Steve’s hand lays itself heavily on his chest. Thumb working overtime. “Take your time,” he murmurs, “I’m listening.”
Eddie nods because he’s still finding his words. Swallowing down the bad ones. Receding the anger that overtakes him a lot of the time when she’s the subject. Hates that it’s his first reaction. Loves it because for the first few months after her, he felt nothing.
He continues, “On her last day, I wasn’t even with her. I’d been at school. And then I went to a friend’s house to play some card games and hang out. I had—I remember calling her at the school, using the payphone. Putting in the last of my lunch money so I could just ask for her permission.
“I also remember not saying bye. Or saying how much I love her. Or that I love her, matter of fact. Just rushed out the question, hung up when she said yes. Followed my friend to the bus. Didn’t go home for several hours.” He’s always wondered if he’d gone home immediately, if she would’ve held out longer. If she would’ve been the one to unlock the door and usher him inside. If she would’ve had a tv show on and her wheelchair parked in front of it, if he would’ve been on the couch eating a stupid mayo and turkey sandwich, if they would’ve laughed themselves silly.
If she would’ve kissed his head later that night. And they would say their ‘I love you’s and she would’ve not—
“I came home and she was having a stroke,” Eddie confesses quietly. The words like plucking glass from a deep wound. And that’s sort of what it is, he supposes. Her loss like a still healing scar on his heart. Steve pats his chest like he knows. Maybe he does, Eddie wonders, maybe he always knew. “Dad wanted me to help her into her chair. But I—You’ve seen me, Steve. I’m scrawny. Like I’m not…I’m not like you. I don’t have all that bulk, the muscle to lift much. Like I can lift amps, those are only twenty pounds or so if they’re bigger, but she’s a whole person. I wasn’t going to be able to. But I tried.
“I tried, is the thing. Really, I did.”
Steve kisses his shoulder. “I believe you, Eds,” he whispers, easy as that.
Eddie closes his eyes briefly. The tears don’t want to rescind this time, but he’s caught up in his own words, unable to make them stop. “I tried,” he says again. “I was standing in front of her. And her arms…She kept pointing at things, but I didn’t understand and I—I could only look at her. Couldn’t really breathe. I couldn’t get my words out correctly. So I just stared.
“And she…She looked back, Steve. My mama looked back at me.
“Those thirty seconds that we—“ He swallows heavily, choking back on the steady stream of tears making their sure way down his face. Lets himself breathe. Breathe. “—Those thirty seconds held everything. All the words we couldn’t say. I saw them manifest in her gaze. All those apologies for bad arguments we’d have. The soft okays we’d exchange when I needed to help her. Even the stupid inside joke she had about how Karen Carpenter was my childhood celebrity crush.” Despite himself, he smiles. Washes in Steve’s little snort. Because it’s true, he did have a crush on Karen Carpenter—how his mom just knew, Eddie’ll never know. “All this to say, she told me that she loved me. She gave me the same eyes she did when I’d have night terrors. When I’d cry about how scary the dark was. When I’d come home all swollen and beaten up, thinking dirty about how much of a fag I was; when she had held me and told me it was okay, as long as I was still her little Teddie Bear.
“Oh, I was,” Eddie shakily breathes out. “I was everything to her, I think. Because she was my everything. Stevie, my mama was my whole world. And I—I could only stare at her when she needed my help the most. I wonder, y’know, if she was okay with me gaping and shaking and afraid in that moment.
“I wonder if she looked at me and instead of seeing her freshly teenaged son, she saw her newborn baby boy between her arms. With big scared eyes. And tears on his face. I wonder if she…I wonder if she wanted to reach up with her limp arms and caress my cheeks and coo.” He sniffs. Swallows down his snot, disgusting as it is compared to all of this. And sighs. Says softly, “There was this one night where she had a really bad, explosive argument with my dad. I must’a been four or five? Woke up in the middle of the night to them screaming, kind of drifting, half-awake. And she. My mama opened my bedroom door and pulled back my blanket and crawled in with me. Lay right by my side, held my hands, was crying all soft and quiet.
“I asked her if she was okay. She told me she was fine. I asked her if she was mad at Daddy. She said yes. I asked her if she wanted to cuddle. And she just held me in her arms and I held her back. And when she pulled away, though her hands were still on my back, she looked at me and said: “I love you.” Because I was a curious little shit, I could only ask, “Forever and ever?” She nodded anyway. Answered, “Forever and ever until time runs out.””
Eddie splays his palm between Steve’s shoulder blades. A mirror to his mom’s right hand on his own back. Kisses him again because he’s there and tangible and alive and warm. Whispers, “I wonder if she looked at me in our final moments together and realized time was running out, y’know? If she…if she wanted to promise forever anyway. I would’a let her, is the thing. Because there’s no way that her and I aren’t infinite.”
Slowly, Steve sits up. Leans down on his left elbow, hovering over Eddie. He carefully swipes his free hand down the side of Eddie’s face. Wiping away at the tears, caressing his skin, gazing softly down at him. “Y’know what I think?”
“Hm?”
Another soft pet to the side of his face, this time Steve’s knuckles grazing his skin. “I think,” Steve whispers, “I think you two are. I think…That time doesn’t stop moving. And with the way you talk about her, it’s clear the love lives on.”
Eddie closes his eyes. Drenching in the thought. The sincere truth behind it.
He won’t tell Steve this, but there was a part of him that was ready to welcome his mama into his body. That it was for safety, protection, a sanctuary. In their final moment together, he had wanted to climb back inside his mother’s body or to open his own and fit her around his heart. That he imagined his body like a tomb—and her sanctuary, the womb. That they were one in the same. In that final moment, they were the same.
“At her funeral,” he murmurs, “we had an open casket.” He opens his eyes, searching Steve’s face for uncertainty.
“You can tell me, Eds,” Steve responds, coaxing. “I’m listening, baby.”
Eddie softly nods. Leans into the warmth of Steve’s palm still on his face. Breathes out. Breathes in. “I didn’t want to look,” he confesses quietly. “Part of me was afraid. But…I think most of me just didn’t want to accept her as gone. So I—Wayne had crouched down in front of me, we were in the closest pew inside this crazy echoing church, and he placed his hands on my knobby knees. His hands were heavy and his face was tired. He still had most of his hair, but he looked older, like he does now.
“But he told me that they were going to close the casket if I wanted to say goodbye. I just shook my head. I couldn’t bear the thought. That the last time I saw her, I couldn’t speak. And I didn’t want our last time to be this…this moment where she wouldn’t listen.
“So, when I think of her now, I think of her eyes. Of every single thing we’d ever done. How she held me. How we danced. Our music. The peals of laughter across the living room. Every argument. All the hugs in which we cried and we were sorry and how warm she was. She was always so warm.
“You wanna know something funny, sweetheart?” He asks with levity.
Steve peers softly at him. Holding him. Smiling that little gentle thing he does. “What is it?” He murmurs.
“She used to tell me that she was okay when I asked about how warm she was. Said that, “Oh, y’know. I’m a space heater, Teddie.” And I just think…I think—Sometimes I look and listen to you and I imagine her, just this essence she had. This…
“Her love. Because she loved everything, anything that she could. Held onto things. Caressed them. Kissed ‘em. And if I ever needed assurance that love is forever, I look onto you and I see her and…And I dunno. You reach me in ways only blood knows how, and I know that with you, my world is complete.” He sniffs. Breathes this giddy chuckle of a thing. Steve’s full attention is on him, a little heartbroken, but a lot sincere. “All this to say that I…I didn’t really talk about her today because—Love takes new shape when you need it again. I listened to you snore for a bit earlier before I came out here and I knew I was going to be okay.
“That we were going to be okay. Everybody’s alive. And even if my mom isn’t, her love is. She’s in everything.” He reaches up his right hand from where it fell away from Steve’s shoulders, instead cupping his face. Thumb tracing over his cheekbone, over a raised white scar from a previous fight. Fingers skating down to his neck, the exposed circle from the demobat tail and the vines. Up and around to his back again where he’s got scars like angel wings. Lifts his head and leans up, the lightest press of his lips on Steve’s. Between them, he breathes, “I love you.”
“Jesus,” Steve chokes out wetly, “I love you, too.”
Eddie hums pleased. “I just needed to say it. I never want to forget again. You make me remember. You make me selfless, Steve. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
🫂—————🫂
Oops, thought about my mom today.
#stranger things#steddie#Eddie Munson & Eddie Munson's Mother#eddie munson#steve harrington#angst and hurt/comfort#past parental death
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i am once again thinking of my little role reversal au curse user!reader…… and their dynamics with the students…..,,,. they make me insane 😔
they’re just. sooooo bitter. such a hater. they have the most insane toji-ptsd-induced beef with megumi and maki…….. it’s worst with megumi. they’re so mean to him for no reason. pulling out their biggest demon dog curse just so they can taunt him for “taking his little puppies out on a walk”……… they have that dynamic with maki too but it’s a lot more rooted in maki being a non-sorcerer in their eyes. and i think they end up rooting for her eventually…. they’ll never admit it though. but when she kills the zenin clan they’re there with the smuggest look on their face <3333
but with megumi, that sense of something almost playful isn’t there at all. they look at him and all they can think of is the scar on their neck, warm blood weighing them down, satoru’s and suguru’s half-dead bodies….. they look at him and they see toji. so they can’t help but hate him. they’re especially snarky with him just to hide how terrified they are.
the other second years are . a different story 😭 they don’t care about inumaki and panda. regularly forget they exist. rip. and i think they’re a little embarrassed to be around yuuta because he beat them LMAO…. but they also have a weird kinship going on. yuuta absolutely loathes them for hurting his friends and they’re just like :)) try me. do it. do it. you’re the same as me. JUST to piss him off…. suguru doesn’t let them be in the same room without adult supervision because otherwise they WILL be walking out with broken bones . they’re both unhinged.
but then we have nobara and yuji :(((((( who are their soft spots. yuji reminds them so much of suguru as a teen. they can’t help but love him. they want to protect him. same thing w nobara….. she reminds them of the way satoru used to be. reader is soooo protective over them both but in a kind of gruff way…. it’s really obvious that they care though!!! they want them to be safe. they want them to have a better childhood than they had. ….. although. well. i don’t think nobara likes them very much 😭 yuji is more open-minded.
and finally there’s nanako and mimiko . which is just. yeah. lots and lots and lots of bitterness from both sides <33333 nanamimi hate them for hurting suguru, and they hate nanamimi for being little brats. it’s all bark and no bite because reader wouldn’t actually hurt suguru’s precious daughters, but . like. they kinda want to sometimes 😭 they’re maybe just a little bit jealous . coming back only to find out that suguru has two daughters, that he saved them and protected them but let reader slip away……. they don’t want to acknowledge that part of it but. it’s there. and nanamimi is DOUBLE the jealousy because??? whyyy is suguru-sensei so in love with you. why does he keep loving you despite what you’ve done. why can’t he move on and meet someone else? someone better?
…. all three of them are aware that reader’s holding him back, reader included. there’s a silent understanding there. and i think it eventually develops into a mutual respect. suguru loves reader, so nanamimi grows to love them too. and reader doesn’t really get a choice in the matter when they’re so similar to their father…. sniffle. they’re found family :(((((( reader is the best/worst guardian figure ever . nanako gets a bf in the future and reader casually asks if she’d like them to kill him after they break up <3333 (which isn’t. that different from suguru’s response lmao)
I’M JUST . thinking …. about them …….. maybe one day i’ll actually write this fic instead of daydreaming about it 😭😭😭 i love my bitter reader so bad!!!
#they love their kids <33333 at least three of them#the gumi/reader dynamic is actually so sick and twisted bc megumi has NO idea why they hate him so much .#and reader is just . on the brink of a panic attack anytime he says or does anything even remotely similar to toji#satoru didn’t kill toji in this au btw <33 he got away after killing riko#and then suguru killed him years later#so when reader is forced into being a teacher and meet megumi i think they have a moment of pure Panic where they assume toji is there too…#they’re a sad pathetic little meowmeow :((((#i’m contantly thinking about them being with nobara and yuji and feeling so nostalgic though :’3#wahhh … i love them#ari noises ✩
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What headcanon do you have about Shego, like her personality, experience with Drakken and her powers?
That's pretty vague but okay here we go haha.
As to her powers, they perplex and vex me. I'm very bothered they aren't scientifically plausible and that they are so grossly inconsistent onscreen. Are they percussive? Concussive? What's with the mental zapping trick? She can fire them and then also just hold it on her hands... They melt things, they explode things, but not people?? There's just. Yeah. No. Way. The powers make NO sense whatsoever and it drives me insane.
So my solution is to just call it her "glow" cuz that's how the powers are named in the show (Team Go Glow, said more than once by Hego) and I use them as shown onscreen and only in that way. I like the idea that there's heat/radioactivity within her body (see: Meltdown) but otherwise... I try not to think about her powers because it just makes me mad, lol.
Experience with Drakken... If you mean time spent with him? I think he hired her from a resume shortly before the series' beginning and there's a mutual respect and of course, antagonism between them. The antagonism would start out as a sort of...gotta keep the upper hand on the other person, cuz they're a little bit threatened by each other's abilities and intelligence. But like any relationship, the trust deepens over time and then becomes more 👀
Her personality... This is a woman who just wants her independence. Not in any way other than...just leave her alone to live her life as she wills. That's part of the great thing about working with Drakken, for her. The job is not very demanding at all, the pay is high, she gets to do things she loves to do (fight, take vacations, has actual input on the plans). As to the sarcasm, that's likely borne of years of frustration with her siblings and whoever else (Global Justice COUGH) were pulling the strings with Team Go in their younger years. And Shego, for all the fighting, is a girly girl. Clearly, by her hair and doing her nails and her casual attire.
I hope that's enough of an answer for now; feel free to ask me anything else! Thank you!
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If I think abt this sketch from the DIE concept art too long I get physical symptoms
#FELLAS IS IT GAY TO TRAP YOUR FRIEND IN A FANTASY WORLD TO FIND HERSELF#they make me so INSANEEEEE#our first die session was last night n one of my players is reading the comic now and livetexting it to me#hi rae if you’re reading this#but yeah. making me insane about them all over#warlock wartalks#die comic
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Mikhail and Vitali were inseparable; when they weren’t studying or getting into fights, they would hang out at Mikhail’s place to smoke and get drunk on cheap rum and vodka, to then pass out in each other’s arms and sleep most of the next day away.
They promised each other— no matter what would happen— they would never leave each other’s side. Yet after starting university and college respectively, they did not see each other for a little over six years, leaving them both heartbroken and wondering what went wrong.
by lucas expedidor // catch me if you can; eden // clementine von radics, from 'courtney love prays to oregon' // sam sax, cruising: a broken tiara // 'ceramic home' by heavensghost; quote from john murillo // 'something's changed' by laiikastears // i don't want to watch the world end with someone else; clinton kane // fortesa latifi, from 'the truth about grief' // audre lorde, the evening news // frank o'hara, biotherm (for bill berkson) // heading home; ruben // 'preface to a dream' by alessandra casini // tokyo; caroline kole // langston hughes, poem // haruki murakami, norwegian wood // julie buntin, marlena // by lute // by aleksandr popov // anyway; noah kahan // christa wolf, cassandra: a novel and four essays
#cp2077#edit:mikhail#edit:vitali#nuclearocs#nuclearedits#happy birthday to my two boys :^) yes they share the same birthday what about it. it's essential to their whole. thing#whatever it is. they're like soulmates but also they are NOT dating. i need you to understand that. because it makes everything funnier#you guys remember when i first introduced them here and people thought they were together. good times honestly#but yeah no vitali is officially dating vincent and mikhail is just their eternal third wheel. their relationship can't be defined#they also reunite of course but i LOVE emphasizing their grief. they didn't know they'd ever see each other again#and they've known each other since around age 12. imagine spending almost every day with someone who CHOSE you#and then suddenly not seeing them or talking to them for YEARS. what do you do with that grief. that pain#sure they've found each other back but what do you do with that. where do you put it. it makes me insane!!!#they both were so lonely in their own way. vitali getting lost in vices and crowds but ending up all by himself at the end of the day#and mikhail drowning himself in studying and pushing himself far over his limits just to distract himself from the hole in his chest#night city in my head is much more massive than what it feels like in game. like yeah it feels big but not. BIG big#and i think mikhail and vitali's story and them losing contact while only a district apart really emphasizes how like#how HUGE this city is not only in terms of actual land it covers but also just. how overwhelming it is. how it can swallow you whole#anyway if you've read all of this hi. wanna make out
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hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x
#seriously another shout out to my mutuals#id particularly like to say thank you to boom who's always right there for me no matter what's happening or how insane im being#and also everyone in our little discord that wound up having to make a whole new channel for venting#bc i was there so often like 'today's weird ask isssss.... telling me about my cupsize!! rip them to shreds!!!'#hannah and theo especially being there and pushing me to finally turn off anon. war is truly over#and of course rori bc the shamelessness u show when hating on my anon asks has been genuinely really cathartic#sometimes u really do just need a rottweiler mutual to tell random people online to kill themselves 😭#okay weird oscar acceptance speechcore gratitude over. i do just rlly love my mutuals#like i went three years not telling anyone about the worse side of internet popularity for fear of looking spoiled and ungrateful#so for the first time to open up about it and be met with outrage on my behalf and people saying in fact it's MORE fucked up#than i initially realised bc ive grown desensitised to it is. yeah cathartic i guess#they are singlehandedly reassuring me of the good this cursed app still holds#so everyone thank them and send them flowers NOW#okay im done i think. see you guys soon. i truly do want to come back asap bc like i said i NEVER EVEN WANTED TO FUCKING LEAVE#SOME ASSHOLES JUST HAD TO PUT GRENADES ON WHAT I ASSUMED WERE VERY UNIVERSAL AND OBVIOUS BOUNDARIES#if you're reading this like 'ohhh fuck i defo sent something invasive lately. i thought it was a joke/we were friends'#then 1) we arent friends if you're on anon. it immediately creates a power imbalance where you know me and any necessary context#but i have no idea who you are or how much you know about me. that's already a fucked dynamic#and 2) I HOPE YOU FEEL BAD. LIKE GENUINELY I HOPE YOU FEEL AWFUL AND HAVE A GOOD LONG LOOK AT YOURSELF#okay i think that's all. ta-ra lads??? how tf do u end something like this#ive queued this to reblog a couple more times throughout the day
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realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille
#possramble#ignore this im just babbling but#the thing is that like. i don't ship laios and marcille together. their relationship is so so important to me in that laios comphets himsel#and THINKS that he might be in love with her but he isn't and that's my insane obsession#platonic soulmates for real but they're so sweet together that i fully expect them to be shipped together#like i get it. that's almost the appeal for me. if dungeon meshi were any other series there'd be an epilogue where they get married#convention dictates that they're meant to be together as the male protagonist and his beloved female deuteragonist#but dungeon meshi DOESNT do that and i love it so fucking much they're the comphet besties ever for my strange little brain#like if i ever did an arranged marriage au it would absolutely be laios and marcille having a platonic political marriage and then just#the most insane mutual pining with marcille and falin while laios and marcille struggle their way into becoming best friends#the imagery of the king and his beautiful court mage being tender to each other and everyone thinking they're in love is like catnip to me#like yeah they'd be like that and have no idea people think they should be together and the subversion makes me so obsessed#the more people ship them romantically. the more i enjoy their platonic dynamic it's like some sort of weird comphet fetishism idk#people think they're in love and im outside the window like YES... YES!!!#but also the second i see stuff of them kissing on the mouth or fucking im like oh god no i went too deep in here i gotta get out#don't wanna see that. i'll go feral over the idea of laios and marcille being arm-in-arm like king and queen but they would not fuck.#i want marcille to be his default comphet beard and dance partner/plus one at official royal events but they're not kissing.#she's there on his arm because he's scared of the other noble women tryna get him and being a baby about it#and people see them muttering to each other and laughing and generally being very sweet and think that they're dating but they're not.#she's actually covered in hickies from falin underneath her dress and is gonna get dragon dicked right after the party is over#like she's in her bedroom and falin's helping her take her ridiculous dress off while listening to her complain about politics#and falin is the person she goes home to the person she falls asleep to and wakes up with#they're a triad of utter devotion to each other but only farcille's side of the triangle is romantic#it's almost like an open secret because they're not trying to hide it at all but people assume and are surprised to find out#like people are so right about her relationship with the toudens but with the siblings' roles switched#love of her life & irreplaceable life companion. does anyone get it#anyway. i don't know what's wrong with me#it bothers me that they're not the undisputed most popular het ship for marcille on ao3#it's unnatural. marcille being paired with any other man should be a fringe case.
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sometimes you just wanna gush about your favorite artist and let them know everything you adore about their art
sometimes your favorite artist is your best friend, and now they have no choice but to know about all the good things their art does and how much you adore it
thats me with Doody btw. Ill always remind them how they are my favorite artist and wont believe me.
But thats the truth, and I think more people should shower their favorite artist in compliments to remind them that YES!!! theres people out there who go insane with their art, even small little sketches, that you pay attention to every detail in their work! Even if its incredibly unnoticeable, it shows an artist how much you care for their craft and makes them feel like their work has been appreciated.
Cuz yeah, you can support and artist with all the likes and RBs in the world (please do) but also, replying to the art, commenting things that you love about it, means SOOO much more, even just a simple key word smash bc you just love it so much you cant put it in to words makes a difference.
Show your favorite artist love, they deserve it
#everytime doody shows me their art i go insane over DMS#when i read the comics to find mistakes or stuff like that#i notice little details and i gush to them about them#how much i adore the details#or how much i adore how they draw X character#usually happens with Scar#I love the way Doodys Scar look#and not because he is attractive#but because he feels real#like he is muscular but that muscle also has a lot of fat#making him look big but also incredibly soft looking. like an actual person. and not just some fanservice looking guy. CUZ HE ISNT THAT!!!#he is more than that#and doody makes sooo much effort to make sure he is more than just a pretty guy#thats besides the point#i could gush on for HOURS about how much I adore their art#but they read that all the time and i already embarrased them enough#but yeah#support artist make them feel loved and appreciated#my post :]
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happy [late] birthday to the clevery guy !!!! <33
~ after being taken out by Tracey for some fun in the city for his big day , once returned home , the birthday boy himself gets some lovely stickers made just for him by Sketch , who had to get over her disdain of the color green for the day , just for her friend's sake . of course , Tony couldn't just not give his dear pal anything , instead baking the computer his cake for the special day , alongside other smaller gifts ;3
also extra digitaltime thing thing for the occasion teehee 💌
#hnsgh yeah okay#digitaltime brainrot is killing meee#it sucks when theres barely any content of your blorbos being romantic and stupid and fluffy#anywhosies#this isn't about digitaltime#this is about colin and his little guy little birthday#i struggled with both of these pieces for a little bit but . in the end . im actually very proud of how they turned out !!#especially the second one teehee#it would mean a lot to me if you peeps you reblog this !!!#no pressure ofc !!#dhmis#dhmis art#dhmis au#high voltage au#dhmis colin#colin the computer#dhmis hv colin#dhmis tony#tony the talking clock#dhmis hv tony#dhmis ship#dhmis digital time#digitaltime#im going insane over them someone please send help#or make digitaltime art and fanfictions preferably#i am TIRED of doing all the heavy lifting alone#im sorry was that guy bothering you ? you don't have to make digitaltime content if you don't want to . don't listen to him hes just insane#oh yeah those on colin's neck ARE kiss marks from tony okay im done i love you drink water byeee !!!!! <33
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There's nothing wrong with people having their dearest most specialest blorbo be Eric ztd it is unironically good for the ecosystem and I always love seeing the different perspectives from other fans but what I am here today to ask is why is no one like that about Mira. whatever happened to feminism.
#every categorically insane man in this series has their dedicated fans and every popular character also has a bunch of red flags so like#to be fair no one's too crazy about Lotus or Alice either hm like people either outright dislike them conceptually because of their designs#or you know just have an appreciation for them as characters but not quite focusing on them much at all#like me#and like are the tropes that make up her character problematic? yeah! that didn't stop y'all from liking Saito a whole lot#now he's better woven into the narrative of the game he's in but then my point's back to Eric lol#like it is just fucking ludicrous the amount of stuff in the whole Series not to mention the game Alone that she's responsible for#but it does feel disconnected (being responsible for the Kurashiki's parents deaths)#frustrating (being responsible for injecting Phi whith Rad-6)#and overall just kinda glossed over? (beheading Junpei and killing off D-Team that one time because she was in cahoots with Zero)#so like I get why people wouldn't like her she's a bad plot device but THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING#THAT'S NOT REALLY STOPPING ANYONE and it's not even like people are very vocal about hating her either#at most I've seen it be lumped in with some major complains about the game like as a whole#the way we find out so early she's a serial killer it's kinda shocking but not really? it ends up as just kinda ridiculous and underwhelming#imo that's the whole game but again even when it comes to people who Do Like this game#anyways free to reblog I Do wanna talk about this but I am absolutely Not putting this in the tag lmao could you imagine#like is the trope of having one big booba female character per game and for it to be a Defining Characteristic kinda not great? yeah#but also like shrug#we've let Uchikosh get away with worse
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