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#by the time I sell off 100
sweetest-honeybee · 2 years
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I’ve miscounted and actually I’ve made 96 adopts counting the one I just made today
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milkweedman · 8 months
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forcing myself to "eat protein" and "be responsible" after once again encountering a week long period of all my muscles hurt so bad and are so weak despite doing the same thing they always do assuming without checking that it was probably because im eating mostly coffee and plain untoasted bread in small quantities. and its not even a whey bread or 100% whole wheat, ive been trying to use up my bread flour/whole wheat blend (i dumped them in the bucket together, maybe on accident ? unclear) so its just that with whatever else i threw in. spent $6 on the only yogurt in the store that had at least 5 grams of protein per 1/4 cup, which is still very little, only to get home and finally google what the symptoms of protein deficiency are. they are not that. those are the symptoms of Who Fucking Knows, As Always
#i dont even like yogurt...#god the food situation is so bad#so it turns out i can do one of the following--but badly and it takes more than 100% of my energy and is miserable and untenable long term#and involves injuring myself to do it: school. work. taking care of stuff around the house. taking care of myself.#i can do ONE.#i also dont get to pick because obviously i have to work#so feeding myself (even like making a bowl of cereal or eating a granola bar) is so impossibly difficult that i can only really do it#at night when high and finally able to feel hunger#and even then its still incredibly difficult and i usually get as far as cutting a slice of bread and then giving up and eating it plain#most of the actual meals i eat are because my roommates are usually kind enough to make enough dinner for 3#but i also have very weird and frequently changing dietary needs that i have not communicated 2 anyone so i cant necessarily actually eat i#have cooked some and made sandwiches a few times but its very clear i am borrowing from tomorrows spoons....#i ran out of the ensure a bit ago and i will get more although none of the stores nearby sell it#but i absolutely cannot afford to live off it#have luckily found that if i just drink one in the morning it staves off the majority of the nonstop random nausea attacks#so a 12 pack would last a lot longer but then its like. so now i need to figure out the eating thing again#cant win etc etc#augh. anyway. complaining over#disordered eating#chronic illness
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choking-on-roses · 3 months
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It doesn't matter how long I live with ADHD or how many coping mechanisms I have...I *am* going to lose very important things and I *am* going to feel like a dumb little baby whenever that happens and get so frustrated I could cry. Why does my own brain hate me so bad? Do you understand how fucking terrifying it is to just FORGET important things in your life? It's scary and belittling and takes away your own sense of agency and competency every single time...
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Literally cannot comprehend that some people just... go places.. I know someone who just got back from a 2 week vacation and then the day they came home they went out to eat at a restaurant (at a busy time mind you, like 7pm on a saturday night!!) and then went to a mall to shop and then woke up early for brunch the next day and were at a bar in the afternoon and so on and so on and it’s like... god don’t you get tired of being places? If I go grocery shopping for 20 minutes on monday and then have a doctor appointment on tuesday, I am SO tired of leaving the house that I want to do nothing for the next two weeks lol...  Doing multiple major tasks/trips in one day and ENJOYING it and SEEEKING IT OUT is utterly inconceivable to me..  we are different creatures entirely lol
#not even regarding how irresponsible it is to be constantly doing stuff during the pandemic and etc. etc. like EVEN before the pandemic#I felt this way exactly the same. I just do not understand the human compulsion to be Doing Things (tm). And it's not that I don't enjoy#SOME things#like very hyperspecific things in controlled environments scheduled 10 days ahead of time and intricately planned lmao#but like there is some stuff I enjoy so it's not like I just hate everything but it's just... ghghhhhhhhhhh#like what are you running away from something? is it unberable for you to be alone with yourself so you have to be like#constanly up and out and finding new sensory shit to throw yourself into or like???#I am legitimately not exaggerating comepltely 100% fine not leaving my house for months at a time (aside from going on walks to get excercis#e just around the block/still within the neightbohood and occasional necessary grocery trips to stock up on food obviiously)#I simply do not posess the impulse to go out to restaurants or bars or go to clubs and dance or go to parties or concerts#OR even travel like...?? idk I guess it's not terrible but in the past when I have traveled I've found that the only things#I could name that I enjoyed about the experience were like.. I like being on hotels because you get free breakfast sometimes and they have#TV and air conditioning and better beds than I do at home. I like people watching from my room windows. I like being in airports because#of the way they;re designed and I like to pearch somewhere and watch people and watch clouds and planes taking off.#I enjoy being on airplanes because the windows feel cold and you can look at clouds and sometimes have gingerale.#but I dont enjoy the traveling or going places itself. I'd rather be at home working on my hyper-specific interest hobbies lol#legit not joking at al if I won tickets to like an all expenses paid super luxury tropical getaway I would sell them and use the money to#buy craft supplies. I would get 10000x more personal fulfilment and joy being able to work on a new project or having the money to pay off#bills or buy better groceries or get an apartment with a better bathroom or something like that than I would having the one time#experience of like wow I looked at a cool beach and some sunsets and ate at restaurants a lot#And maybe the thing is like. I don't value experiences? I value resource security and pratical progress at things#and not in a like workaholic capitalist way but just in a like.. I value more what's going to make me happy in the LONG run than temporary#expeirences that are somehow supposed to mean something to me in the moment (yet I usually derive no pleasure or meaning from at all)#Like I would rather use money to invest in my niche hobbies or crafts or personal improvement or getting a more comfortable#bed or better shoes for my foot pain or etc. etc. than I would spending the money to go out to a resuarant or travel or etc.#ALSO again like.. in addition to it simply not seeming worth it because my brain rarely is able to conceptualize the value of those sorts of#experiences.. it's also just SO tiring to do things! Even a grocery store trip can be overwhelming with sensory stuff and social things#and etc. etc. and I just realize like.. all the things people have told me are Fun are not Fun for me. I grew up and realized you actually#have no obligation to do things. I found out you can spend your birthday at home alone eating a waffle and playing your favorite video game#and I have never went anywhere or done an activity on my bday since lmao.. 'Doing Things' is just hard for me to grasp still really lol
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feretra · 7 months
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sometimes I look at my art and go “god, i’m a talentless piece of shit it’s taken me 20 years to get nowhere compared to tumblr artists” and then i remember my art has been in national gallery shows both on my back door and thousands of miles from me and i’m like
y’know what, nevermind
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SO! I've wanted to talk about The Clip all day but felt like I should wait until the tumblr "premiere" (even though I think you were literally one of the first people to see it on Twitter lol). Thank you for defending my honor btw even if I am just Someone <3
But. Yes. Yeah. Yokoyama's absolute certainty in saying that??? Without anything to even buffer it? No maybe. No "don't expect too much." Just point-blank in front of a huge fan (whom I believe he's now going to be working with), a staff member, and a massive audience. As if that part isn't the matter of contention. I WILL be injecting those words directly into my veins for some time.
I was on the verge of choking and/or spewing blood and/or crying before posting it though lol, so I really appreciate the vote of confidence regarding the translation and I love your redraw! The reception as a whole has been really nice, although I wish people would keep it to themselves if they'd rather have Nishiki or Ryuji back or whatever. Not like it's a race, but even if it was, Mine's been in last place for ages lol.
And while I enjoy Y3's writing more than most, Mine's death wasn't some Grand Meaningful Statement, it was the decision of a fledgling studio that never knew if it would be able to keep making these games trying to tell a self-contained story. It did have far-reaching consequences for the series, but those consequences are also... not really relevant anymore?
Like, I can and have argued that Mine's death caused the fall of the Tojo Clan, but the clan has already fallen. So I don't see why some people are acting like revisiting his character would be A Spit In The Face to the saga somehow, but I guess I've never really been against characters being brought back...? A quote from the staff that's always stuck with me from the staff is that RGG is always going for RGG-ism, not realism.
Ranting aside... I honestly don't know if I should be saying this, but there's this new guy working the counter at Survive in some LaD8 behind the scenes footage. Now, upfront, I'm 99.8% sure it's not Mine (I happen to have a 100% accuracy rate so far identifying major RGG characters from extremely blurry images and silhouettes lmao), and I have no idea who it is, whether it's a new character or an old one heavily redesigned or Just Some Guy.
But he's not Kashiwagi. And he happens to have slicked-back dark brown hair with what appears to be an ahoge in some angles. And, unless the materials are temporary, he also dresses A Lot Like the celebrity Mine's design was based on. And his features... line up closely enough to piss me off, even though they don't fully match in the end, which is why I don't think it's him.
I'm in argumentative essay mode 100% of the time which is why I'm saying this in a "convincing" tone despite literally not believing it myself, but like... wouldn't that be something? To just have Mine part-timing at Survive or whatever and no one makes a big deal of it because they don't know any better? If nothing else, I really do think he should get The Bartender Treatment.
I dunno, I might post about it with a comparison tomorrow because it's been on my mind lately, especially with The News, but I really don't want people to get the wrong idea either. Or embarrass myself if it was too tenuous of a link to look that deeply into from the start lol
I remember seeing it two minutes after you posted it, so I can imagine I was one of the first to the scene of the crime (so my friends put it LMAO). AND OF COURSE I- and a lot of us- can't be any more grateful for all the work you do than we already are. I'd go insane trying to document and manage everything you do! especially when you have insane people like me ready to pounce on the smallest thing like I know I'd cry FJLKAJ The least I can do is give a proper title/credit to you when I can o7
If Yokoyama had any remaining hesitance about Mine being alive, then he REALLY would have fumbled by sounding so certain. Like in his old tweet, he certainly sounded more ambiguous, but this time he really had no extra notes and sounded more sure of himself. I won't expect RGG to do anything with Mine, but the concept is still very much exciting and the idea that Yokoyama almost seems earnest about the idea of bringing Mine back for whatever reason is very nice to know :] And thank you about enjoying the art I did! I can't lie in the slightest, since the last ask where you alluded to posting the clip, I had that drawing saved in the back of my head ready to make once you had that posted LMAO
But oohh not to touch drama since I generally try to Not touch it, but yeah I can't act like I haven't seen some people be. ""Interesting"" about the idea of Mine being alive. I won't dive too deep into it, but I think my major issue with the few grievances I've seen is that RGG hasn't done anything with Mine's alive status. As of right now, it's just a thing Yokoyama said, so I don't understand the need to be so angry about it (it's especially weird to say Ryuji hasn't been back when he not only got to be a playable protagonist in Dead Souls, but he was also the protagonist of RGGO- though I suppose I can understand wanting him in the mainline series again. Still, it's weird to act as though Mine's back any more than he is and being upset about it just because Yokoyama said he was alive)...
Moving on though, I'm really curious as to this 'mystery figure' you mean. I've been missing out on LaD8 production material, so I haven't seen this bit myself but I'd love to take a stab at it and analyze myself too. I agree though: if Mine does come back- whether he's working at Survive or anywhere else- I would greatly prefer if he had The Bartender status and was just never really called attention to and only existed in the background
#long post#snap chats#it'd be hilarious if mine came back and he was just there... just slap glasses o him and call it a day#like pleeaaasssee that'll be so funnyy if he does come back in LaD8 i dont want a dramatic reveal or whatever#i want the exact same shit like with kashiwagi just have the gang like. visit daigo and co at the security company#and the bitch at the front desk You Wouldnt Fucking Believe It Oh My God#i'd laugh so loud oh my god pleaaase yokoyama do it. you should also make ryuji just a random takoyaki salemen in 8#just so we're covering our bases here because im a ryuji-just-sells-octopus-balls truther#oh but on Mine's Death Fucked With The Tojo i definitely support the notion that he was a huge. Forgive The Pun asset to it#like i guess there's a lot of speculation and suggestions- at least on my end- when it coems to mine's importance#i mean we KNOW he was incredibly impotrant financially if katsuragi was anything to go off of#and listen ik i make the Widow Daigo joke a lot but geniunely i can imagine if daigo lost someone close to him he wouldnt be 100%#liiiiikkee i'll reserve the rant/ramble for my Daigo Essay but im just saying it cant be easy running a ship on your own with no real peers#yk cause pretty much everyone was older than him or only there for an ulterior motive and Blah Blah ill save the rest for another day#im rambling as is LMAO and i dont wanna say anythin FOOLISH#but yeah on mine coming back tho i dont think itd really tarnish any kind of thing his death could have done#like he died. or 'died'. 15 years ago (at the time of 2024)#the tojo's long gone by then it's been gone for five years at that point so it's not like mine would just Resume As Usual#he'd be starting over just as much as the other tojo clan members are yk what i mean#like i really cant think of. what else mine's death has done for the franchise that wolud be 'undone' if he was back#so yk. Why Not. it'd be funny and i think that's the only thing that matters ☠️ my dedication to the bit lets me forgive Insane Shit LMAO#but thats enough blabbering from meeeee thank you for writing in !
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andthebubbles · 2 years
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ok it’s starting to sink in now!!!
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lettuce-gremlin · 7 months
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I will not go thrift shopping... Thrift shopping is the wallet and time killer....
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rafayelism · 4 months
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dating the love and deepspace boys | domestic moments
featuring: rafayel, xavier, and zayne x gn!reader
(´• ω •`) ♡ modern au! can you guys tell raf is my favorite..?
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rafayel
a year younger than you. lies to everyone (including you) that he’s actually two years your senior. you only found out he was younger than you when you met his parents, who have his birth certificate framed. 
hates cats. despises them. they fill him with rage (fear). says he’s allergic (he’s lying).
“oh shit raf, this sucks! i guess you can’t move in with me.. i have cats”
“...you have cats?”
“yeah. 3.”
“i’m not allergic. i can move in tonight.”
chronically online. minoring in marine biology and majoring in annoying you. texts you over 200 times a day and if you don’t respond, he’s faking a horrible chronic illness. again. it’s amnesia on wednesdays, appendicitis on thursdays, chronic migraines on fridays… etc..
he has 2 followers on his private twitter. you and thomas. 
over 700k followers on instagram for some reason? he sells paintings on depop (he says it's depop but you’re convinced he sells them for heinous prices on the black market) 
cooks on occasion? has an apron that says kiss me im irish (he's not irish?) made you a tuna cupcake once?? 
pescatarian. not in the vegan/vegetarian way where he refuses to eat red meat but because he’s absolutely feral over fish. (is this cannibalism? he says its not)
lives in a 2 bedroom apartment with you but doesn’t use his bedroom. says your bed is comfier. turned his bedroom into a painting studio (IT’S for the black market you say!!) and sleeps with you. 
“raf,” you sigh. “don’t you have.. homework or something?” 
he sits between your legs, back against your chest as he scrolls through his phone. 
“yeah,” he says. you flick the back of his head because you know he’s smirking. “it’s called assignment: you. due in two minutes.” 
with his free hand, he reaches back mindlessly to grab yours. you sigh, fingers intertwining with his, a reflex as he leans his head back. his eyes meet yours and you can’t help but laugh. 
“well?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “what are the assignment details?” 
he chews on the bottom of his lip as he thinks, humming while his eyes wander across your face. he swings your interlocked hands in circles. it’s raining outside, the heater is on, and rafayel is warm like hot chocolate. 
“what?” he says, his cheeks a tinge pink. “you’re looking at me like that again.” a pause. he turns, his head now buried in your chest.
“just studying my homework.” you say, hands instinctively wrapping around his back. the laundry machine is running in the background, rain is falling against the window, and you faintly hear your rice cooker dinging in the kitchen. home, you think, is with rafayel.
“i can hear your heartbeat.” he says, voice muffled. “it’s super fast. you like me or something?” 
“i really like you.” you say, without skipping a beat. rafayel groans into your chest, sighing in discontent. 
“no fair. i’m supposed to be the flirter.” 
you press a kiss onto the top of his head and you feel his body melt into yours. the two of you fall into a warm silence, his breath steady as he traces paintings into your neck. 
“raf?” you mumble, eyes drooping. he hums in response. “did you pass your assignment?” 
he smiles. “with flying colors.” 
xavier
chronic napper. (yapper?) 
has 100 late assignments. failing all of his classes yet got into the top university in your country because he got a perfect score on his entrance exams. you thought he was a nepo baby (turns out he’s just.. smart?)
his procrastination rubs off on you… he is the WORST distraction and he knows it. so smug about it and uses it to his own advantage. will perch on top of you when you’re studying and kiss down your neck until you go to sleep with him. 
lives in the apartment on top of yours but is at your house most days, if not all. you ask him to move in.
“am i not already.. living with you?” 
“don’t you still have your apartment, though?”
“yeah..?”
 is that good for the economy?? is it financially smart? not at all, but he’s too lazy to move out and put his apartment up for lease. 
xavier sleeps with his legs entangled with yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your chest. the air conditioning hums in the background as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, dimming the brightness as you hear xavier stir. 
“sorry xav, did i wake you up?” you ask. he doesn’t respond, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he glares at your phone. 
“xavier?” you question, swallowing a laugh at his ruffled hair and disheveled clothes. 
“phone down.” he says, voice raspy with sleep and an octave lower than usual. you raise an eyebrow at him. 
“can i get a pretty please in this economy?” 
xavier’s eyes narrow as he snatches your phone away, snoozing the device and placing it on the nightstand next to you. his lips ghost your neck, pressing kisses against your skin as he mumbles incoherently in the dark of your bedroom. 
“xavier-” you breathe, giggling at the sensation. “that tickles!” 
he nips at your neck. 
“bedtime. now.” 
zayne
3 years older than you 
he literally has his whole life together at 27 which scares you so much
“my credit card is your credit card” typa boyfriend
cooks. cleans. has a 9-5. you’re interning at the hospital that he works at (he’s head doctor!!)
you’re just a sweet little intern and zayne is the big bad monster!! everyone at work thinks he hates you because he’s extra strict on you. doesn’t give you any special treatment, ‘ignores’ you most days (but also slips meals into your locker and hands you heat packs on cold days in the hospital)
no one knows he’s dating you until one day someone sees you leaving in zaynes car. 
“oh, you carpool with doctor zayne?”
“huh? no, we live together.”
“you WHAT???”
he’s a virgo……. erm……
the two of you get ready together in the morning. his guard is down when he’s sleepy and he’ll cling to you as he brushes his teeth and does his hair.
you wake up to the cold night breeze, blinking the sleep out of your eyes and shivering as you scan your surroundings. you yelp as you meet the attentive gaze of your boyfriend. 
“huh? whuh? huh?” you splutter, squirming as zayne holds you tighter. he’s carrying you bridal style in his arms, his jacket around your shoulders as the two of you walk to his car. you see the bright lights of akso hospital fading away behind the two of you. 
“it’s two am,” he says calmly, placing you down gently as he opens your car door for you. “you waited for my shift to end. again.” 
you smile bashfully, rubbing the back of your head. “well, i didn’t wanna just leave you!” 
zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed but gaze warm. he guides you into your seat, clicking your seatbelt in place. 
“you can nap on the way home,” he says, closing the door and sliding into his side of the car. 
the heater’s on already- courtesy of his super expensive electric car. he fastens his own seatbelt and hands you a hot tea and bread from the hospital vending machine. 
“drink up. doctor’s orders.” 
you grin before he leans over to press a kiss on your lips. 
“thank you for waiting for me.”
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Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He'd handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula's home turf? Much more doubtful.
I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it's not a tough sell, and I'm going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.
Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?
Jeeves
Jeeves' survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don't think he's long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.
On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he's shaving will yield zero reaction (though that's at least good for his short-term survival--given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn't going to wear it. The rules of fashion don't go out the window just because you're in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet's job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It'll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he's not allowed to wear it anymore.
Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go-- though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.
There are a couple other things working in Jeeves's favor; the question is just whether they'll be enough to save him.
He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can't find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?
He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn't chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.
Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he's cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.
He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It's just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He's keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don't see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.
There are just a lot of "depends on"s here, and I'm not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves's favor, all things considered.
Bertie
Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it's like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He's afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world's preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly." He will NEVER go exploring in places he's been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn's office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He's both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.
In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he's shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.
He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he's going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He's read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one's hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn't speak German or Romanian, but he's empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he's plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.
I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he's susceptible to trances, if he thinks they're trying to marry him, it's against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned "won't go exploring" (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).
I'm inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula's room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won't get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.
When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it's been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.
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inkykeiji · 10 months
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Ugh the genshin thing is such a mood I eliminated from my tablet and then my friend kept telling me about the updates, characters and ect. And I had to install it again…
LMAO ugh!!!!!!!! i haven’t had any desire to pick it up for literal months and then entirely by accident i stumble across a fuckin ten second clip of him in the trailer and now i’m :((((( like MISSING HIM HAHAHA
idk idk i just,,, i wonder if he has any actual relevance to the overarching ‘plot’ of the game;;; like what are the chances that haitham, or ayato, or thoma are gonna show up again and be an integral part of a MAIN story quest??? what are the chances that they actually matter to the plot itself??? what are the chances that we’ll see them again outside of half-assed events??? but when it comes to mister ajax,,,,,,,, well. he just keeps popping up now doesn’t he?
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Danny wasn't sure what to do. Was this legal? He knew the bats were part of the Justice League and whatnot but surely they can't just pick him up off the street after he got into a brawl with some creeps trying to mug him!
Sure, Nightwing had jumped down to help and Danny, still in his living form with its crappy human vision, thought he was another mugger because of the dark and attacked him too.
Now he's sitting in the back seat of the batmobile with his hands in wierd bat handcuffs.
Was everything these guys owned bat themed? Yeah his parents put there last name in all the titles of their inventions but they had a brand to sell so it was excusable. Batman however, is clearly living out his bat shaped dreams. Usually Danny was all for the furrys doing thier thing, one of his best friends was a proud furry and Danny 100% supported him, but there was a line you don't cross and tall dark and fuzzy crossed it when he kidnaped one 14 year old Danny Fenton.
He couldn't Go Ghost right in front of Batman and Nightwing but he could use the one thing his mom made him take with him everywhere since he was a little boy.
His panic button.
It was powered by ectoplasm and could get through signal jammer with no problem. If he pressed the button his parents would drop everything to come save him. They made sure to put little sirens and flashing lights in thier own hazmat suits to make sure they didn't accidentally miss it. Sure they looked hilarious the few times he had seen it go off in his life but it was highly effective.
So he pushed the button and his parents were charging torward them in record time, the GAV playing chicken with the freaking batmobile. Suddenly his mothers voice came from the panic button, "Are you in the front of back, sweetie?"
"I, uh." He stuttered, looking up at the shocked face of Nightwing before answering, "The back."
"Perfect." He mother said darkly.
A trio of high mechanical whines filled the air and Danny didn't need to look through the windshield to know the buzz saws were out.
----
Bruce just wanted to know why Danny Fenton, youngest of the Fenton Family and son of Jack Fenton and Madeline Walker, two people whose marriage brokered peace between thier prospective mafia syndicate families, was doing in Gotham beating up low level thugs.
He was not expecting overprotective mad scientist parents.
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loriache · 1 month
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Butch up that Elf: my Marcille manifesto
TBQH, this came into being because the Falin "dragoness" fanart rewired my brain completely. It's sillytimes, but we're going to make a serious argument: trying out being a little butch would Fix Her.
1. Marcille Gender Discomfort
Now, Marcille LOVES feminity. She loves playing dressup, she loves elaborate gowns, she spends her free time going to the spa - the absolute last thing I want is to deny that. However, there's also a definite vibe that this isn't just a preference. Specifically, the way that she pushes Falin towards femininity suggests that she isn't comfortable with gender nonconformity in the people around her.
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If this was something she was 100% confident about ("I'm doing this for myself and nobody else!") surely what other people do wouldn't be a big deal? Of course, you can read this as a little bit of solipsism; "what works for me must work for you too! I think this is so cute and would suit you - wouldn't you agree?"
But for the sake of this argument, all I'm trying to suggest is that gender nonconformity (and probably sexual nonconformity... well, frankly, any kind of sexuality at all) is unlikely to be something that's on Marcille's "radar". She hasn't tried out other ways of presenting and decided she doesn't like them. I do think she'd be a very flamboyant butch - "ouji lolita" vibes, you know? It's a whole new set of wardrobe options she could play dress-up in, even.
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After the story ends, she starts dressing like her mother in all black, which makes sense - her mother was also a court magician, so she's probably emulating her in order to project confidence and authority. But I can't say I think she should stick with this. Break away and be your own person, Marcille! Try a fancy waistcoat and frilled jacket!
2. Haircut
This is another potential hard sell, I'm sure. The people she loves doing her hair is a cute symbol of their care for her, and her hair is key to her magic - so there's plenty of reason for her to keep it long. But like... think practically. Having someone do your hair every morning, for the whole of her long life, while it gets messier over the day (because she can't remember to keep it neat)... That's got to be such a pain. My hair gets messy when I put a hoodie on. And I have short hair.
It would require her to go through a change of mind, and probably a little more growth in how secure she feels in her relationships, but - the hairdo's a symbol. The more important thing is the relationships themselves. Eventually I think there might be something liberating about cutting it off, even if she might eventually decide to grow it out again.
The lion, her trauma, took something away from her which was really important to her. The people around her are able to make that easier, and make up for it, and soften that loss, but... Mithrun isn't the person he was before, you know? He's a new person. The relationship he has with his brother is new, and I don't know if it's one that the person he was before could have had. If Falin hadn't died, they wouldn't have gone on that wonderful adventure! They wouldn't have met Senshi or saved Izutsumi and Laios and Marcille wouldn't have gotten so close. So I think it's totally congruent with the themes of the story that the burning away of this part of Marcille's self might eventually create the potential for new growth in a new direction, not clinging onto the parts that are gone.
This also isn't totally out of the norm for elven mages - both Otta and Flamela have short hair. Otta is canonically butch, and potentially Flamela reads that way to elves too, but the point is it clearly is possible to be an accomplished mage without long hair.
3. Desiring (to be) a chivalrous prince
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Marcille's succubus is clearly General Halleus from her favourite book series, the Daltian Clan. The fact that this is her ideal man.... it certainly plays into readings of her as Not Straight. But at least, this conveys the way her conception of sex and romance is strongly idealised, dissociated from the bodily and from physical desire.
There are many ways to interpret that, including thinking about what types of desire this fixation is obstructing because she is not comfortable with it, but I am going to focus here on what this desire does signify. She likes the trappings of courtly romance, and is clearly comfortable putting herself in the role of the princess, being taken away on a white horse by a noble (but tormented; eyepatch has "death" on it lmao) prince. (Though I think he's actually the token male lead who isn't royalty; he's a General. There's always one in Romfan, lmao. IYKYK)
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A kiss on the hand - this is so chaste, I think it's clear it's more about desire to play a role in a dynamic than it is about desire in a physical sense. There is undoubtedly a big part of Marcille that wants to be a beloved and chased-after princess, but I think it isn't at all impossible that she'd also enjoy being the powerful, cool, and chivalrous "prince" to someone (a pretty girl, perhaps) who needs her protection.
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This is a little silly, because it's clearly just aping the shoujo artstyle that articulates basically the same idea as her succubus, that Marcille is attached to highly abstracted and idealised romantic (and Romantic) tropes and ideas. But the imaginary "successful" Marcille from chapter 4 looks quite similar to her succubus. (Another thing I noticed is that in the fantasy she has sharp ears... like full elves have. Despite what she says, I think the cultural messaging that this trait is "attractive" and hers are inferior got to her at least a bit. 😥)
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Also, the way that she treats Falin, scolding her indulgently, trying to look after her and wanting to be looked up to and respected by her... that aligns more with the "masculine" role in the trope that her succubus is referencing. "What are we going to do with you...?" I can imagine her saying this to Falin, word for word. Whereas, if anyone real started talking down to her, even affectionately, I don't think she'd like it, given the negative way she reacts when people don't respect her or her skills. Especially after canon, given the way the Winged Lion was treating her.
Her attitude to Falin is partially down to her reluctance to acknowledge Falin as an adult, who is independent and can grow beyond her and leave her behind. But I think even as they move on from that unhealthy dynamic, Marcille is still going to get pleasure from feeling capable, reliable, able to look after and protect Falin. She'd like to pull the chair out for her in a restaurant on a date, you know?
4. Conclusion
Even after the growth she goes through during the story, there are parts of Marcille's character that are very much obstructed. Romance, sexuality, and gender, feel like one of those to me. The way that her discomfort with the messy origins of food betrayed a deeper, more significant discomfort with the cycles of life and death.
Much in the same way, I'd argue that the simplified, idealistic, and safely fantastical way that she views romance, as well as her very "safe" gender presentation and tendency to push it onto others as well, suggest an underlying discomfort in her own gender and sexuality. The character growth she goes through leaves her in a place where it may be possible to safely re-evaluate her relationship with Falin, as well as her choice of clothing and hairstyle, both things that go through a change at the end of the manga. Neither, I think, reach a sustainable stopping point that we see - there will be a point when it's more servants doing her hair than friends, just out of practicality, because they're all going to be so, so busy. The black clothing to copy her mum is cute, but once she gets some more self-confidence in her own skills as a court magician, I think she'll move on from it. And... who knows what direction her relationship with Falin will develop, over the years? I'm rooting for them, anyway.
In all those cases, I think moving outside of the things she's done before, into something really different from the things that are "safe" and expected, will be the most rewarding path for her. Like in the dungeon, things that she would initially reject were actually able to sustain her and broaden her tastes. She loves dressing up, looking after people, and "princely romance". So I say: Butch Marcille! It'll be good for her!!
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ziggyyyystardust · 4 months
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The Star Wars fandom is like a case study of what happens when you overthink media intended for children to the point that you’ve completely altered the message and plot that the creator intended. The whole “the Jedi order is evil and Anakin/Vader is the good guy!” Idea fails to take into account the fact that like.. these movies are meant for kids, they’re meant to be easy to follow and easy to understand with obvious good guys and obvious bad guys. Yknow how we know the Jedi are the good guys? - they’re the main characters, they have funny one liners, they kill the evil bad guys who have red laser swords with their blue and green laser swords, they’re relatable, they’re nice, they’re paternal, so on so forth.
I love critical analysis and I’d never speak a word against it, when we consume media we should always take a step back to consider what ideas they’re selling us, what undertones are portrayed, is this supposed to represent a real life problem? But it’s also equally as important to consider who the audience is and how that might impact the story. And ultimately the audience is children, Star Wars is not meant to be a mystery thriller where the good guys are secretly the bad guys which you can only tell when you pick the story apart 20 which ways. The movies could not more clearly tell us who were meant to support. - is it the angry guys with red swords, ugly old guy who shoot’s lighting out of his fingers and takes over the universe, people who blow up planets, chop off their kids hands and blow up planet’s? Or is it the people who wear warm coloured clothing, talk about wanting peace, who tell funny jokes, have heartfelt moments, with blue and green lightsabers, fight against the space fascists and love each other.
Ultimately, Star Wars isn’t that deep, enjoy it for what it is and I promise you’ll enjoy it 100 times more
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corroded-hellfire · 4 months
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no bc cockwarming with older!eddie is soooooooo
Oh I agree 100%. It’s something I need in my life but I guess I’ll have to settle for only having it in writing. Older!eddie my beloved 😍
Warnings: older!eddie, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m receiving, cockwarming, brat and brat tamer
Words: 3.3k
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Eddie was never a sports fan. Never interested him, never played nor watched. His needing to be home to watch a game had never been an issue you’d had to deal with in your relationship. So, when the day comes that Eddie is more focused on something that’s on the television than you, you’re not having it. 
It’s a Saturday night and the two of you had finished off the pizza that you’d ordered, and you’d gone to take a shower. Halfway through your time spent in the steam, you start to feel a little lonely and wish your boyfriend would join you. Calling his name a few times doesn’t seem to work, even though the walls are thin in his trailer. With a pout, you step out of the shower and wrap a fuzzy towel around your body. Still dripping little droplets of water on the carpet, you pad down the hallway to see where your man is. Nothing Else Matters is coming from the television, and you find Eddie sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. You’ve heard enough Metallica through him to know that’s what’s on the tv, but you’re not sure what he’s so transfixed on.
“Whatcha watching, baby?” you ask.
His eyes flit briefly over to you before returning to the screen. “Metallica documentary.”
“Oh.” You take a few steps closer to the couch and cock your head to the side. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. You okay?” Eddie’s words are very monotone. You don’t doubt that there’s real concern for you there, but he couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if he tried.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted some company,” you say coyly. There’s no reaction from your boyfriend. Figuring you’ll make it plain as day for him, you drop your towel, leaving your naked body on full display. He turns his head towards you, his eyes staying on the television until the last moment, then flickering your way as well. Arching an eyebrow, Eddie pats his jean-clad thigh and looks back to the television. It’s not exactly the reaction you were looking for, but you’ll take it. 
You stroll over to him and perch yourself in his lap. His hands rest on your hips, but he tries to look around you at the television. Your gaze is trained on him, not quite a glare but only a skosh softer. Eddie either doesn’t notice the way you’re looking at him or he doesn’t care. So, you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently press your nails into his t-shirt covered skin, adding pressure bit by bit until he frowns and meets your eye.
“Ow, babe,” he says. “What was that for?”
“You haven’t looked at me once since I sat in your lap. Am I bothering you?” It’s hard to keep the snark out of your voice, even though you’re aware you sound like a petulant child.
“No,” Eddie says with a soft sigh. “I just want to watch this documentary. I haven’t seen it, and you know Metallica is my favorite.”
A groan tumbles from your lips as you drop your head forward and rest it on his shoulder. Cold water drips from your hair onto his neck, sending a shiver throughout his body.
“You want a blanket?” he asks. 
His words have you jolting upright and, this time, full-out glaring at him.
“You want me to cover up?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie says, suppressing an eye roll – he knows it will only make it worse. “You just got out of the shower, aren’t you cold?”
“A little,” you say. “So warm me up.”
“Babe, this is over in an hour, can we just–”
“Fine.” You move to get off his lap, but his large hands keep you pinned in place. The overly cheerful voice of a woman trying to sell some new workout video comes from behind you and it makes you huff. “So now that there’s a commercial you’ll pay attention to me?”
“You’re being a real brat, you know that?”
Your eyebrows pull together as you frown at him. “I just want to get some lovin’ from my boyfriend.”
“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a sigh. “So desperate for my cock, huh? Be a good girl then, get on your knees.”
With how fast and hard your knees hit the threadbare carpet in the living room, Eddie suspects you’ll either have bruised knees or rug burn. But you don’t seem to mind one bit as you stare up at him with wide, eager eyes. Your hands immediately fly to Eddie’s belt, and you’ve undone that and his zipper in the short few seconds it took Eddie to lift his hips so you could slide his jeans and boxers down. 
It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen it—or stroked it, licked it, sucked it, had it inside of you, etc—the sight of Eddie’s cock still gets you immediately wet. The promise of the pleasure that he’s going to bring you. 
Being eye level with Eddie’s semi-hard cock has you licking your lips in greedy anticipation. Not able to wait one moment more, you lean forward and wrap your hand around the base of Eddie’s cock. His pubic hair brushes against the side of your hand with every stroke.
You push yourself up on your knees so you can let some saliva drip down onto Eddie’s cock, making it easier for you to work your hand over it. A groan slips from your lips as you eye the bead of precum gathering on the tip.
As if based purely on primal instinct, you lean in and run your tongue flat over the head. Eddie’s thighs tense around your head as you savor the salty tang that coats your tongue. 
You’re tempted to tease Eddie but with him already accusing you of acting like a brat, he might not let you suck him off. It’s been the toughest torture you’ve ever had to bear when Eddie makes you watch him get off all on his own. 
Not willing to take that risk, you engulf the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. One of Eddie’s hands rests on the back of your hair, not pushing, just lying there. It puts enough weight on your head to make you sink a little further down on his cock.
“Good girl,” Eddie drawls out. 
The praise does nothing to help the wetness that feels as if it will drool down your legs any second. You bob your head, taking a little more of him in each time you go down. Tears annoyingly pool in your eyes and you blink a few times to get them to roll down your cheeks; nothing is going to distract you from giving Eddie the best head you can. Just as you’re about to take him into your throat, Eddie’s fingers dig into your hair, rings lightly scraping against your scalp, and he pulls you off of him.
A whine of protest reflexively flies out of your mouth at the loss. Your brain hardly has time to wonder why your boyfriend pulled you off of him before he tugs your head backwards so you’re looking up at him. His attention is not on you though, it’s back on the television that you hear once again playing music you recognize as Metallica’s. Eddie is looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance as you pout up at him.
“Get up here,” he orders as he drops your hair. 
“What?” you ask. Using the back of your hands you wipe the tear streaks from your cheeks and the saliva that managed to leak out of your mouth. 
“Get. Up.”
You push yourself up on unsteady legs and Eddie groans in irritation as you block his view of the television. A strong hand grips your naked waist and pulls you forward until you’re tumbling into his lap. 
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Eddie’s voice is low and husky, the dominance in it sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re going to sit on my cock and keep quiet until this show is over. If you’re good, maybe you’ll get rewarded. If you’re a brat, you can get yourself off tonight. Understood?”
“Yes, Eddie,” you reply, hardly above a whisper. 
Making sure to lean your torso to the side to keep out of his way, you straddle Eddie’s hips and reach behind you to line his cock up with your entrance. Slowly, you start to sink down on him, the initial stretch leading you to let out a low moan.
“Shhh,” Eddie chastises, never taking his eyes from the flickering screen behind you. 
Teeth gnash into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to keep yourself from making any other noises. Tense fingers dig into Eddie’s black t-shirt clad shoulders as you fully seat yourself on his lap. After you’ve given yourself a moment to adjust, you start to lift yourself up again, but Eddie immediately slams you back down.  
A sharp whine is forced out of you, and you grip the cotton material of Eddie’s shirt in your fists.
“Wha—” you start to ask but Eddie cuts you off.
“You’re going to sit here, completely still. You’re not going to move around or make a sound.”
You drop your head forward and rest your forehead on Eddie’s shoulder as you let out a small whimper. This is pure torture. Being so close to everything you want, but not allowed to rock your hips to make the dream a reality. 
Metallica music continues to play behind you and when you glance up at the older man, he has his entire focus on the show. You almost slip up and let out an irritated groan, but you know you’ll regret it if you do. 
A few minutes pass by but it feels like an eternity as you just sit there, half listening to the loud metal music coming from behind you as you slump against Eddie’s body. Just as a song comes to an end and yet another journalist begins to talk on camera, Eddie’s hips shift, causing him to move inside of you. The unexpected jolt has you gasping and burying your face into Eddie’s neck.
“Relax, I’m just making myself comfortable,” he says. 
You highly doubt that but keep your thoughts to yourself as you try to calm your body down again. Eddie’s a little shit and you’d put money on this being only the first time he messes with you, looking to see how far he can push before you push back. Sure enough, just as you’ve let your guard down and let your mind wander, there’s a sharp smack to your ass. The sting makes you jump, and Eddie’s hands instinctively move to your waist to steady you.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “My hand slipped.”
He’s full of shit and you both know it. Eddie’s playing dirty now and you have to think of a counterattack. Anything too obvious and he’ll make both of you get yourselves off tonight, so it has to be subtle. 
Moving slowly so as to not interrupt his television time, you curl against his chest so he can feel it when you expand your lungs and let out a silent yawn against his neck. As you yawned though, there may have been clenching of your walls around his dick. You feel more than hear the growl that reverberates through his chest. Now when you bite your lip it’s to keep the smile off your face. 
You peer over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall and see that this documentary should be over in about fifteen minutes. So close yet so far. The chill from your still wet skin is starting to settle in as well, which is going to make this quarter of an hour tick by even slower. 
Thankfully, the end of the show has some of the Metallica songs you’re more familiar with, so it gives you something to listen to while you wait for this test of wills to be over. With five minutes left you feel yourself getting antsy. Eddie just said until the documentary was over, right? Does that mean the second it’s done he’s going to start fucking you like you’ve been craving for what feels like hours now? Or will he be a prick some more and pretend like he doesn’t know what you’ve been waiting for this whole time. You’d place your bets on the second option. Eddie never turned down an opportunity to be a pain in the ass. 
The last song fades out and the show is over. You immediately sit up and look at Eddie with wide eyes. You did it. You had done what he asked of you and now you get your reward, right? Right? 
As nonchalantly as you’ve ever seen him, he raises his arms up over his head to stretch out his back and abdominal muscles. Usually, you’d take the opportunity to stare at his tummy when his shirt rode up, but with his cock literally inside of you it feels like a moot point. 
“Eddie,” you say. It’s not quite a whine, more like a poke—a nudge.
“Yes?”
He was going to drive you insane one of these days.
“It’s over, right?”
“It is.”
“So…?” you trail off.
“So, it was pretty good. Wish they had more metal documentaries like that.”
You’re two seconds away from putting your hands around Eddie’s throat—and not in the way he sometimes likes. 
“And I was good too, right?” You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him, and it takes Eddie a moment to compose himself enough not to laugh. 
“I guess you were.”
“So…” you drawl as you lean in to press soft kisses against the side of his neck. “Do I get my reward then?”
“What is it that you wanted, baby? Was it this?” Eddie rolls his hips up against yours and your eyes flutter closed at the feeling.
“Y-Yes,” you manage. “Need you, Eddie.”
“God, I love when you get all needy for my cock. Should I make you beg for it?”
He knows you will if he demands it. Eddie enjoys moments like this when he’s in full control, knowing you’ll do whatever he wants. That his cock drives you so wild that you become putty in his hands. It makes a nice change since in every other aspect of your relationship you have him wrapped around your little finger. 
“Please, please, Eddie,” you whine, fingers grasping at the front of his t-shirt. 
Eddie takes in your pouted lips and your widened eyes. He can’t help but smile at how utterly adorable you are; but somehow still the sexiest woman he’s ever met. 
“Alright, baby,” Eddie finally acquiesces. He reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand. Slowly and delicately, Eddie swipes his thumb right below your bottom eyelid. “Take what you want.”
The permission unlocks an energy reservoir you weren’t aware you had as you place your hands on Eddie’s shoulders for balance and push yourself up, almost letting his cock slip out. But at the last moment you lower yourself back down, the two of you moaning in tandem as he bottoms out again. You set a relentless pace as you begin to bounce on his cock. Eddie’s eyes hungrily watch your tits as they bounce along with you, providing your boyfriend with double the pleasure. 
“Fuck,” Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch. Teasing you was definitely worth it with the way you’re taking his cock for all its worth. 
Your hands move up Eddie’s shoulder and slide around to tangle your fingers at the dark curls at the base of his skull. 
“This what you wanted, huh?” Eddie asks and pauses to catch his labored breath. He can feel how wet you are and that tells him this is exactly what your goal was. “Needed to have me deep inside of you.”
“So deep,” you mutter with a nod.
“Mm, what would you do without me, baby?” Eddie taunts, lifting his hands to massage your breasts. 
“God, I would die.”
Eddie chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Nobody could make you feel as good as I do. I know.”
“Uh huh,” you pant. 
Eddie notices your movements becoming slower, the strength draining from your body. Persistent woman that you are, you keep going, moving up and down to take what you want. One of Eddie’s arms snakes around the small of your back and the other comes up to cup your cheek.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” he says softly. Eddie turns to lay you down on the weathered couch and slides an old throw pillow beneath your hips. A loud whine of protest comes from deep in your chest when Eddie slips out of you as your positions change. “Love how desperate you get for me. Only me who gets to see you wrecked like this. So fuckin’ hot.”
As Eddie pushes himself back into your soaked, throbbing pussy your whines turn much more pleasurable. Your boyfriend holds onto the arm of the couch behind your head and uses the leverage to piston his hips. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” you cry.
“Too much?” Eddie teases, slowing his hips. “Should I stop?”
“Fuck, no.”
A cocky smirk grows on the older man’s face, a breathy chuckle coming from him at your vociferous reply. His hips pick up speed again, just as eager to please you as you are to be pleased. The arm that isn’t holding him steady against the couch runs over your tits, up your neck, and his fingers meet your lips. 
“Open.”
You let your jaw drop, letting Eddie slip his middle and forefinger into your mouth. Just as you did to his cock before, you swirl your tongue around the digits, the feeling of something in your mouth only making you feel that much fuller. Reluctantly, you let Eddie move his hand when he starts to pull away, but not before letting your bottom teeth gently graze against the pads of his fingers. 
Eddie’s hand dips down between your bodies and rubs tight circles over your clit. The added stimulation has your muscles tightening, that familiar buildup soaring in you. Your right hand clutches Eddie’s arm, the grip hard enough to leave bruises that will linger for the next few days. 
“Eddie, fuck.”
“That’s right. Cum for me, princess.”
“W-Wanna cum with you.”
He dips down and trails hot kisses from your chin, all the way down your throat. 
“You’ve been naked for the past hour,” he mumbles against your sweat covered skin. “Never mind how long I’ve been inside of you. You really think I’m gonna be able to last much longer? Come on, baby. Cum for me.”
The urging is all you need before letting your orgasm wash over you, back arching off the couch, and pressing your tits against Eddie’s shirt. The clenching and fluttering of your walls around him has Eddie following right after you, spilling into you and filling you up. Wanting to make sure you take every single drop, Eddie fucks his cum into you even after his orgasm begins to wane. 
The weight of Eddie’s body pressing on top of yours is exactly what you need in the moments as your bliss fades away. Contentment fills the both of you as you breathe together, both sweaty and satiated. Eddie uses the last of the energy he has left to lift his head and press a few kisses to your shoulder. 
“I love you,” you whisper, reaching up to move some of the hair that’s sticking to his face. “I’d apologize for being a brat, but it turned out to work pretty damn well.”
“You are a brat but I’m good at handling it,” Eddie says with a soft smile. “And I love you too.”
“I feel like I need another shower,” you say, your sticky skin feeling attached to Eddie’s.
He looks up at you with those doe eyes and a cocky smile.
“Want some company?”
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netherworldpost · 4 months
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@kernyen-xo /
Cheaply.
Watercolor sets made by Crayola. Acrylics made by Crayola. The brushes these kits come with are frustrating, cheap brushes are typically $3-5 each. You can spend as much as you want on a brush, the cheap ones are surprisingly good. This is extremely common advice, this isn't just from me.
When you find "ah I like this" go with a student grade of whichever you prefer. Or both! I find watercolor frustrating. I find acrylic doesn't look graphic as much as I want. I fell in love with a paint called gouache because it is very flat, layers nicely.
I would not start with oil paint. It is expensive, requires a lot of special care to keep you safe. Fumes, cleaning agents, etc. Fall in love with painting, then if you want, give oil a try. Be prepared for days (weeks, months, literally) for paint to dry. This isn't to scare you off it -- it's great -- but I wouldn't start here.
Oil has tremendous variety of things you can do with it.
Watercolor is ethereal.
Acrylic has great graphic qualities, lots of range.
I like gouache because it looks almost animated (there is a reason for that, it was/is used in animation background sometimes). It's tricky and tempermental.
Paint by numbers kits if you don't draw. Maybe even if you do and just want to dive into painting.
Mixed media sketchbooks. Lets you experiment a lot, cheaply. The big thing about sketchbook paper is it comes in a few forms -- very cheap (newsprint) and takes dry media (pencils, etc.) well, cheap (mixed media, lets you experiment quickly and a lot), and expensive (hot press has no texture, cold press has a texture).
Painting needs something that can get wet and not fall apart.
Start with a cheap mixed media sketchbook and see how you like it. Move on from there.
Ton of videos across lots of social media and much content. Has the advantage of multiple perspectives, you don't get trapped in "I think this is crap" or "This is the best" versus your thoughts.
Start cheaply.
Art stores and product manufacturers exist to make money. This is a neutral statement. The point is they are a store, they will sell you whatever you think you need, whether you need it or not.
Conversely!
Some things that are not universally useful but sold in art stores are great labor savers. Some people look down at disposable palette paper, others need the flexibility because they have a hard time washing palettes... etc.
Start cheaply. Look at hardware stores, lots of duplicate functions in items.
I come from a background of digital art and a lifetime of business where "ah where the BONES ARE WE GOING TO FIND MONEY FOR--"
Have fun.
Get in deep and frustrated and then drink the frustration (but not the paint water) because you realize you're frustrated because you can FEEL how it should look but you can't get there yet.
The journey is amazing.
I've started looking at the mountain of business problems I have been sorting through for the last few years.
"Okay. How is this supply chain issue with stationery compared to a painting I want to do of the piranha plants of Super Mario Brothers?"
This is literally something I asked myself.
It took me out of the problem (supply chain issue, boxes, our office size, the number of stationery items I want to design) and forced me to look at it as a painting (structure, where does it stay simple, where does it get complex -- what makes sense -- ah, PDF downloads).
Paint.
Learn by doing.
Start cheaply.
Keep going. Build up.
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