#Squeaky-boots-blog

[bluehairedspidey]

I can't believe I didn't realize until today that the Spongebob episode "Squeaky Boots" was a parody of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart"

[wildemaven]

life and loss | joel miller

pairing: dave york x f!reader / joel miller x f!reader word count: 1k content warnings: 18+ blog; death, grief/loss, major character death (no description of said death), AU and crossover universes, kind of fluffy, navigating loss, reader is non descriptive/blank slate. notes: this randomly came to me yesterday on my walk. It was meant to be just a moodboard and a small blurb to go along with it… and then this happened. Oops! Tried to pack a lot into a small thing so hopefully it makes sense.

Momentos of him, your late husband, have remained tucked away for the last year following his unexpected death. As you settle into your new widowed life and new home over a thousand miles away from the life you created with Dave, all the beautiful memories reside in cardboard boxes out of sight. 

Word travels quickly through the small neighborhood about your arrival and marital status— or lack thereof. Welcoming introductions turn into unannounced check-ins and flowers. Uncomfortable small talk on your front porch is sprinkled throughout the following weeks, a hand on your shoulder accentuates their let us know if you need anything. Sympathetic casseroles finally dwindle allowing you to finally ease into this new season of your life. 

The hammock left by the previous owners becomes your sanctuary most evenings. Searching for the brightest star in the night’s sky, then asking Dave how he’s doing before reading aloud to him the words from your latest book. 

It's days later when you’ve read the final word that a small voice from over the fence manifests as a quirky teenage girl sitting at a table you’ve set up on your back patio. She has a million and one questions about the book and is filled with theories about what happens beyond its ending. The side gate is never regularly latched closed now, eagerly awaiting Ellie’s return. She navigates most of your late night conversations that follow, including personal stories and the history of her life. My grump of an old man is in construction. He’s single by the way— not by choice, but life happens. 

His voice is calloused the first time he makes his presence known to you. Goddamn it, Ellie! I told you to leave her alone! They exchange brittle words back and forth through the shared barrier, before you insist he join the two of you. The crunch of his boots on the ground stall when he towers over where you’re still seated. His hand engulfing yours, warm and gentle as he tries to determine where his gaze should fall— you, the ground, the smirking teenager sitting across from you. Joel. Joel Miller. Uh, Ellie n’ I live next door. Not sure how long she’s been botherin’ you, but I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.

It’s weeks later when you run into Joel at the mailboxes. The clanking of keys and squeaky hinges fill the space between you before you’re both retreating back to your respective pathways. Your hands fidget and twist the bills and letters from your parents when you bravely initiate a conversation before he’s able to reach his front door. She’s the first person since moving here who wanted to talk to me about something other than the death of my husband. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have with her in a long time. She’s welcome over here anytime. 

He reeks of nervousness as he stands on your doorstep the following evening. The ambered hue of his eyes absorb the warmth from the front porch light, adding a brightness to them that they seem to be commonly lacking. His words waver a bit as he begins to speak, starting and stopping, scrubbing his hand down his face before he attempts to start again. You offer him nothing but patience, sensing the mournful energy radiating off him— similar to the one you’ve been carrying. My wife and older daughter— they were both in an accident on their way to Sarah’s soccer game. I was pickin’ up Ellie from her counseling group for adopted kids. We were headin’ to the soccer field when I got the call. Some days are harder than others. And everyone wants to help, however that may be— lots of food as I’m sure you know. It doesn’t ever really get easier, but you learn to live with grief. Anyways, if you ever need anything or just want to talk— you know where I live.  

He accepts your impulsive invitation to join you for dinner, offering him the open seat across from you in the same spot as your timid first meeting. The crickets orchestrate the evening ambience as you share stories you’d tucked away, too painful to revisit until now. You find you laugh just as much, if not more, with Joel. Even among the tears shed, the conversation is filled with a hope and optimism that you longed for. 

You still feel his wholesome embrace long after you’ve called it a night to seek out much needed sleep. But much like the nights that ensued after Dave’s death, loneliness and the weight of your grief rear its head. 

The black ink glides over the surface of the paper. Line after line formulated a year’s worth of unsaid words that had been bottled up and blockaded by the rigid walls you’d built around them. Joel was right about the therapeutic effect of getting rid of the burdensome thoughts that come with loss, finding it’s hard to stop now that you’ve started. 

You convey the love that you still carry for Dave, something you’ll never willfully ignore or regret. It feels wrong but you touch on the hatred you feel towards his death; you hate him for leaving you, hate that you miss him, hate that some nights you forget the small details that you cherished about him. You tell him about Joel and the kindness he’s afforded you in a short time of knowing him and that there’s life beyond losing the love of your life. To look for the light even when shrouded by darkness. 

Pictures and trinkets find their way out of the cardboard confines Joel helped pull out from the guest room closet. The bare walls now filled with familiar faces and shelves adorn with colorful memories that you tried so hard to keep hidden. 

Joel and Ellie being a constant presence in your life allows you to see that life can surprise you when you least expect it and there’s room for new love. 

[fandomfluffandfuck]

as someone obsessed with pussy steve, it drives me insane because i was doing my final exam today and all i was thinking about is "am i going to read the same pussy steve blog of S? yeah tf i am" and im here requesting from u some more pussy steve bc goddamn thats my obsessionnnnn. plus it's my first time asking u to write anything (i dont do shit but read things here and trying not fail school at the same time)

related to this pussy Steve ask

also... we're channeling this vibe shamelessly as we continue on from that last post, still set during WWII

Good job with your finals!! Let's dive in 👀

Steve can't fucking take it anymore, groaning as he flops back onto the squeaky, lumpy mattress that's supposed to be his bed. They've been holed up in this goddamn remote rubble city for what feels like years after clearing the town of HYDRA and Nazi agents with no action to burn off his excessive energy. The once standing city has long since been evacuated because of the air raids. The bombs have flattened almost half of it, shaking the other half immensely, but without orders to go elsewhere, the Howling Commandos are lying low, trying to plan their next move on their own. It feels like a waste just to march all the way back to camp but they don't have any other leads. Not yet.

And the Howlies have scavenged the area already, gathering any remaining, surviving food that isn't their shit MREs, plus having made sure no civilians were left behind before sitting down to talk and plan.

And talk and plan and talk and plan.

Steve can only strategize for so long, he can only play card games for so long, he can only draw on scraps of paper for so long; the serum has left him even more hot blooded than he was with all this vivacity he couldn't've dreamed of before, as thin and sickly as he was. So it's a fucking problem. Sitting still.

Waiting.

They should be doing something. Seeing action. Doing good. This is war. It feels so bizarre to sit between what they have just seen and what they're going to see. Bad things.

So, yeah, Steve is having a hard time unhelped by the fact that they're stuck in the one reliable structure that happens to be a small inn with thin walls. It's a blessing to have their own rooms and real beds, just enough rooms that they only have to pair up rather than sleeping in a dog pile together, but they might as well be together with these paper walls. Thus, Steve is being extra careful as he attempts to burn off some steam, alone while the others do... whatever... out in the main room (maybe a game of poker?) by stuffing the undershirt he's been wearing beneath his red white and blue uniform into his mouth.

The shirt tastes of salt and musk, balled up and packed between his teeth, filling his mouth, keeping his jaw open. Keeping the sounds he wants to make down. Most of the sounds. He can't help the sounds his body makes that don't come out of his mouth... wet, slick squelching sounds from between his legs, his fingers plunging deep into himself as if he's trying to get to his heart. In the scenario where he wanted to get off and be done with it, he'd be making tight, hard circles around his clit, pressing down against it hard, impatient and rough with himself, making himself a little raw with it but a lot sensitive--but that's not what he wants right now. He wants to burn through energy now. So, he has two fingers crooked inside his pussy, plunging them in and drawing them out slow enough that it makes him crazy. It's enough to feel good, so, so good, but not enough to get him off.

Steve's not wearing his uniform without the undershirt while he fingers himself. Well, he's not wearing it in full. He's kept his pants and boots on in case they need to get up and go, but... his pants are gaping open.

He's undone the long zip and aaall the latching buttons, ripping the taps as wide apart as he can get them without just taking his pants off. His hand shoved beneath both layers--pants and underwear.

His boxers are ruined. Wet. Soaked.

Registering just how sticky and wet he is, pulling his fingers out of his cunt to trace his puffy, swollen slit, he plays with his own wetness. He's dripping. He doesn't touch his aching clit directly, but he does put pressure on the legs of it, tracing the v down his vulva, spreading his legs wider, just a tiny bit, so his lips are out of the way as much as they can be, exposing himself, touching himself, and--

Choking on a whimper as electric pleasure shoots through him.

That's the closest he's let himself get to touching his clit in, in... however long it's been? An hour? Two? Ten minutes?

Steve doesn't let it last. Instead, blearily, he presses his middle and ring fingers back into himself. Back into the scorching, melted heat of his body. His foot kicks out, restless, needing something to do with the thick lust building inside him. Groaning softly through his shirt, Steve arches his neck, lifting his head off the bed just enough to let it come crashing back down heavily, giving his sweat-soaked blonde hair an impressively ruffled style.

As thoughts as he feels--his coherency consumed by pleasure--Steve suddenly flushes, wondering if Bucky will be able to smell it on him when he's done (if he doesn't already know what he's locked himself into their room to do). Once he's worn himself out, cumming on his own fingers after too much build up to be comfortable, leaving himself hurting with too much tension and desire, will Bucky know? Steve will button and zip up his pants and put his shirt back on and waltz back out there, but will it all be only for Bucky to corner him away from the other guys and maybe tip his chin up, fingers on his jaw, eye-to-eye, give him those dark eyes that say, I know what you did, maybe Bucky will kiss his neck and murmur to him hotly, or maybe he'll bend him over, their clothes still on, his cock a hot, thick line in his trousers, pressed against his slit, sweet talking him with his players voice, saying filthy things about how he can smell it on him like he's a bitch in heat with the most syrupy tone, crooning so Steve will get stickier, wetter, and gooey-er. Melted in the center like some kind of oozing, chocolate dessert. Hot and ready to be devoured.

Bitten.

Licked.

Swallowed.

Steve is thinking about his best guy's cock and he's thinking about his mouth, too, now. He's thinking about those sweet talking, wicked lips. He's thinking about his immaculately styled head of hair between his thighs, going to town. Not an ounce of reservation in the way he dives into him, in how he licks, how he slurps, how he fucks.

Jesus Christ.

Steve's jaw works around his balled up shirt, clenching. His throat contracts as he swallows thickly, praying that he doesn't wail like he wants to. The sound is in his chest, rattling around, building into this aching pressure. He can't fit anymore arousal inside himself. He's gonna burst.

Then, when he's weak and he just can't fucking stop himself, Bucky on his mind like always, Steve curls his fingers just enough to catch the raised spot inside him, spongy and sensitive. So fucking sensitive. His sweet spot that causes his hips to involuntarily buck up, searching for more, needing more. If he weren't gagged, he'd be moaning for it.

Moaning Bucky's name.

Bucky's on his mind already, so, of course, he wants Bucky on his tongue, too. Worse, he wants Bucky inside him. He wants him so bad that he's fucking aching, clenching around his fingers, hips squirming, toes curling, panting. He wants Bucky's cock in him so bad, slamming home so he's leaking around it, wetting his balls and smearing all over both of their thighs. He's a slippery mess.

He wants Bucky so bad that he has to stop thrusting his fingers in and out of his tight cunt to work a third finger into himself, chasing the girth of his dick. He can't get as deep as Bucky does, and it's just not the same to the point that, that--

Steve garbles out something of a sob. His eyes sting with tears. His head is so hot with frustration. Hazy and smoking. He can't think. He can't keep his rhythm. He's shaking.

Fuck.

When he pulls out to add another fingertip--stretching before he eases the entire length of his own finger in--he realizes he can smell himself. Already, he could smell himself wafting up from his unwashed shirt, sweaty, but now he can smell the hot, briny musk of his own arousal, carried on the sex-thick air of the quaint inn room. Humid and heavy.

He can smell himself. Sweat, musk, and leaking slick. It's an unmistable scent that turns Steve on more than it should, considering it's his own smell, twisting up in his gut and making him feel tighter, tenser, hotter. He can taste himself. Sweat, musk, and dirty, unwashed cotton coating his tongue, dripping down his throat, joining the lust already pooled low in his belly. He can hear himself. Slick, squelching, and lewd with his fingers curling inside himself. Muffled and drowning with sounds dying in the back of his throat before they have the chance to come out of his mouth. The soft snuffling, shuffling sounds of his pants folding and brushing against the bed sheets, fabric rustling and creaking as his thighs spread instinctively until the the seams groan. Every sound is another piece of wood added to the fire, burning hotter until it crackles and pops with the explosions of hot sap. Steve is feasting on these sensations as much as he's feasting on the slick, velvet feeling of the inside of his own pussy. He can touch himself. Smooth, wet inner walls that cling so tightly to his own fingers. If he could lift his head, the weight of his empty skull, so weakened, he could see himself, too--his hand moving in his pants, the veins running over his muscled forearms bulging with the effort of working his fingers so much.

God, he wants more in him.

His fingers work faster, curling a little harder, plunging deeper until he's erupting with another garbled cry.

He wants Bucky's cock in his pussy, throbbing with the pound of his best guy's heart, at the same time that he wants Bucky's thumb to sneak down between where their sweaty bodies collide with every frantic thrust, slicking the digit up with Steve's overpouring wetness until he reaches back, traces the sensitive, pink flesh between his legs to get to his asshole and pops it inside him, too, giving him something extra. Extra stuffing, his thumb in his ass, pressing back against his pussy. The thin wall between his holes. Giving him something more to clench down on while he wails, crashing over the edge as Bucky grinds so deep he can taste it, choke on it, so deep that his pelvis rubs on Steve's swollen clit and makes it impossible not to cum.

Guh.

Steve is drooling, soaking into his own shirt, thinking about Bucky.

Drowning in pleasure from his own hand.

Steve is rocking up into his hand, his hips with a mind of their own, or, rather, mindless in the pursuit of pleasure, instinctively rutting, humping, rolling, and just going. He's trying to swallow moans and gasps to varying degrees of success. He knows not all of them stay down in his tight, heaving chest, but he doesn't know how loud his noises are, his heartbeat is too loud in his ears.

Regardless of his noises, he keeps chasing his pleasure, his clit swollen and peaking out as much as it can from it's hood--leaving it vulnerable and draaagging just lightly against the heel of his hand. It's agonizing. With every feathered drag of his sensitive clit against his hand, it's making his sounds grow worse. He will be wailing soon no matter what he does. No matter how much he tries to keep it down.

It aches.

It hurts.

It feels sofuckinggood.

His jaw is working so hard that it feels like his teeth will rip into his shirt soon. Gah. Oh, ah, yeahh--

The temperature keeps going up and up in and all around Steve, fever hot, when the door swings open.

Steve is so tightly wound that he can't freeze. There is no way to stop the forest fire within him. It's going to have to come to its own conclusion when it has burned through everything he has, only ash left. Nothing can put him out.

So it's a damn good thing that it's Bucky that walks through the open door, hurriedly slamming it behind him when his eyes land on Steve's debauched, twitching form on the bed they've been sharing. A cold rush of air comes in with him, leaving all the hair on Steve's body to stand on end in salute. He quivers harder.

Bucky wastes no time. He is deadly, vicious in his pursuit--the sound of the door slamming hits Steve's ears, delayed with his mushy brain, and then Bucky is immediately on him like a predator pouncing.

His body is heavy on top of him, pinning him with the drag of his uniform against Steve's sensitive, sweat-glistening skin.

Real.

He's so real that it's visceral. It's not just Steve's heated, out-of-control fantasies as he approaches his orgasm without breaks.

Bucky cages him in with his body, one of his hands planted by Steve's head, steadying himself, while his other hand grabs ahold of Steve's forearm to rip his hand out of his pants.

Steve does wail then, through his makeshift gag.

The look on Bucky's face is evil, mocking him playfully, asking, oh, really, is that how it is?

After all these years, they read each other like open books. Steve knows he knows how turned on he is, and it's devastating. Bucky probably knows just based on how much he's blushing and how he can't keep his eyes open, how long he's been going at it for. He knows how much it aches to be untouched when he gets like this. Especially now. Post-serum. It's all he can think about. He can feel his heartbeat pounding in his pussy. He's hot and swollen and so wet that it brings stinging tears to his eyes. God.

He's so fucking needy.

He needs Bucky. He needs--

Bucky sticks both of Steve's hands above his head, crossed at the wrist, and uses one of his own to pin them there. Steve could easily break away any time, but now. He's so worn down. He's weak. His brain has gone out of his head, and all of his super-strength has drained from his body out of his weeping cunt. He's depleted. He can do nothing by lay there, helpless and vulnerable, as Bucky shoves and pushes and shimmies his pants and underwear down. He barely gets them halfway down his thighs before he stops, and because of it, Steve sucks in a sharp breath through his balled up shirt. The air of the room is shocking against his soaked, sticky center.

Guh.

GUH!

Steve makes a fucking stupid sound when Bucky quits messing with his tangled up pants to instead mess with his pussy. He slips one, then two, then three inside him. Fast. A predator tearing through prey, no time to think, just do. His shit eating grin tells Steve that he's impressed with how sloppy he's gotten himself, and he wants to cry in embarrassment but also pride.

With three fingers inside him, Bucky curls them and grinds them deeper, deeper, curls, deep, curl, deep--

Steve's head is spinning. He doesn't even know what Bucky is doing to him. It just, it, it, ohgod, his eyes roll back so far, so hard it hurts, it feels so good. It's wrecking him. Whatever he's doing to him. Maybe it's Bucky's reckless thirst for him. Maybe it's the serum burning like venom in his veins. Maybe it's both of them mixing together into one harsh cocktail, so intoxicating it immediately makes him drunk.

The things Bucky is doing to his body make Steve want to shriek in pleasure. He's letting go of his wrists but it's not like Steve can move anyway and it's for good reason that he's not pinning him anymore because instead he's pressing down on his belly with that hand as he curls his fingers more, more, more, curling them towards himself hard, pressing so hard on that spot inside him that Steve doesn't even, he's not even sure he can comprehend the pleasure cutting through him, it's so much pressure building up inside him, taking more space than he realized he had even inside this bigger, stronger body, he can't, he's not strong enough, he--

Steve gasps and squirms, not understanding, wanting to babble, oh, oh, Bucky, what-I, I'm-! Wait! What is that feeling? Why does it feel like that? Wh--he can't, though, he can't say anything, his mouth stuffed.

He screams behind his teeth and--

Steve fucking whites out.

He's there one minute and then he's gone in a flash. Too much pleasure. Too much pressure. Too good. He's half convinced, totally out of his mind, that he's exploded or, or...

Oh.

As Steve returns to himself in bits and pieces, still shattered in the aftermath, he's almost sure he's lost so much control of himself that he's pissed himself. He's so fucking wet. Soaked down his thighs and down Bucky's wrist. If he has pissed himself, then he's given everything up to Bucky, his body entirely his lover's, every part of it, but then.

JesusfuckingChrist.

Then, Bucky's voice breaks through the ringing in his ears, and he's softly, quietly purring to him, mindful of their thin walls in a way Steve has not been while being stripped down to the bone in exhausting, overwhelming pleasure. Bucky's voice is all low and hot, too turned on as he works Steve through it, touching him much softer, nicer, lighter while he tells him how fucking hot that was, watching him, feeling him squirt around his fingers. And, holy shit, he's gonna make him do that on his dick. He will.

It's a promise.

Now that he knows he can make Steve squirt, he's gonna do it all. the. fucking. time.

Steve whines through his gag, his body trembling hard with his fading fever. Oh. It hits like a sledgehammer to the back of his head. He's going to die. Bucky is gonna kill him, making him squirt, making him writhe, making him want to crawl out of his own body, giving him too much gutteral, visceral pleasure.

Bonus:

I've had a draft sitting here on Tumblr for a while that simply says:

Lil pussy Steve domming big, beefy Bucky. Steve's wearing a pair of panties to a party, getting them messy in a closet or bathroom or... both... where Bucky fingers him until he cums, then, once they've finished and Steve is desperately wet, he makes Bucky put swap underwear with him. Bucky obeys because of course he's done--he's big and he falls hard. Steve's wet, dirty panties, though, they're much too tight and remind him for the next few hours (hours that Steve, the introvert, suspiciously makes them stick around the party for) exactly of what they did. How he made his dom squirt and make these panties wet and smell musky and hot like his pussy does. Ruin them. Ruining the panties, ruining Bucky.

Plus, the whole rest of the party, Bucky has to live with the fact that Steve doesn't have any underwear on because rather than put Bucky's boxers on, he shoved them into his pocket where he could take them out at any time. Fuck, they could fall out at any moment! Bucky can't focus on a single fucking conversation.

And it's not until they get home that Bucky gets to cum.

When they're finally, finally home, Steve pushes Bucky down onto the floor, mounts his lap, and grinds into his hard, hard cock bursting out of his teeny-tiny, too-tight panties. The underwear is so little and delicate, all wet lace, that Bucky nearly ripped them putting on his bigger body. Demanding him to cum and ruin them further, one of Steve's thin, bony hands constricts around his throat.

Oh, yeah, he owns this big, subby mess of a man.

So... do with that what you will 😏

[pinkestmenace]

Edit: Expanded reference sheet

WOOOO! Done just in time! @kirbyoctournament

Name: Olympea, the Pummeling Peacekeeper

Gender: She-himbo, She/Her

Age: Never ask a woman her age! (She's an adult.)

Occupation: Warrior/Hero of Yore

Species: Puffball/Starborn/Star Child/whatever the Kirby species is called.

Uh-oh, due to a temporal anomaly the Hero of Yore Olympea suddenly finds herself transported alive and well from Ancient Halcandra to the Kirby OC tournament! She doesn't know what's going on, but she'll roll with the punches and treat it like a fun dream vacation of sorts. She does like meeting all sorts of new people and trying new foods, weapons and technology. She'll have so many stories to tell her friends when she returns! It's probably for the best if she doesn't learn what disaster befell the four heroes in the regular timeline, though...

Some ground rules, just in case:

I would love seeing people's OC's interact with her! Asking Olympea questions is okay, but this is not an ask blog/rp blog and I'm not looking for extended roleplay. I may not answer your question. If I see potential for an interesting interaction I may draw it, but I can't promise anything. (Keep in mind if I don't respond right away -> 1: I'm timid and get anxious easily. 2: I may not have figured out that part of her story/the history of Ancient Halcandra yet. 3: The answer would have contained a spoiler for my fics. 4: I'm very slow at drawing.)

I'm joining this tournament for fun, so thank you for understanding!

Propaganda and Answered Asks:

Arrival

Found cupcake!

Ask (Giant upcake): quanblovk

Ask (Kettlebell): graycoin

Ask (Pet rock): anonymous

Ask (Punching): anonymous

Bonus: Punch!

Ask (Green bean): maybeher0

Ask (Fic canonicity): anonymous

Propaganda/gift art for my competitor: zeros-witness and Rimuri

Ask (Unexpected cursed hands): morp

Off to the loser's bracket

'Tis pride month! Thou knowest what that meaneth.

Bonus: Rock Rider Olympea

Weatherproof outfits

Grillmeisters

Ask (The Gospel Of The Lamp™): the-chaos-axolotl

Bonus: So Moth It Be

Olympea's Space Gauntlet

Ask (Grip strength): cauli-flawa

Bonus: Wanya-fication

Bonus: Noddyfication

Ask game: Graycoin 💫🥘☀️🐛

Ask game: Anonymous ⚔️🧋⚙️

Ask game: Anonymous 🥀 (Asks about Soul forms so CW: discussion of body horror and death!)

Propaganda/gift art for my competitors: Inufaiya and Cauliarty

Bonus: Star Allies icon

Bonus: Keigo's P.E.T.R.O.C.K. interface

Bonus: Fake Dream Buffet Costume

Bonus: Paper Mario style emulation

Bonus: Starstruck 🤝 Olympea

Bonus: Expression Practice

Bonus: Mirror counterpart Olivia

Bonus: Halloween Outfits

Overview:

While she's not very big, intellectual or attuned to magic, she is unbeatably chipper and physically strong. She loves fighting and gleefully uses a variety of lovely accessories/weapons like a giant club, enchanted glaive, magitech gauntlets, etc. Her left glove allows her to access a dimensional storage. Teases hard, punches even harder. Actually quite feminine when off the clock. Loves magitech gadgets a lot. Doesn't think science or magic is better, because their society needs both. She's definitely not insecure about her height. She'd also never conjure a giant squeaky hammer to bop you over the head if you call her short.

Likes: Vegetables, Nectar, Trying new foods, The colour green, Flowers, Butterflies and moths, Pretty/cool/badass women, Her club, Brass knuckles, Tinkering, New gadgets, Teasing her friends, Seeing a certain winged magenta knight open up and feel genuine joy

Dislikes: Being mistaken for a child, Being called stupid, Stuck-up people, Seeing her friends being hurt, Strangers flicking her antennae, How much dust and scales her wings leave behind

Abilities: Able to fly. Very physically strong. Innately has access to Suplex and Hammer, but mainly uses her trusty club. Her boots and gauntlets let her emulate elements of Hi-jump, Laser and Mecha. (The boosted jump, laser finger guns and palm blasts, respectively.)

Weaknesses: Can't fly quickly. Stubby little arms limit her great strength with little reach. Distractable and a little naive. Can't resist eating strange and exotic snacks no matter the source. Seeing cute girls (she HAS to show off).

Fighting Style:

Her gauntlets are good for punching and the palms can release blasts of energy as well. They're mainly so she can hold large weapons well, since her actual hands aren't very big.

Her moth wings aren't very big either, so while she can normally fly and can still break her fall when she's armoured, she prefers to zip around close to the ground. It's often faster and easier to run and jump when she's fighting. Especially when she's wielding her heavy club. Her boots help her boost and maneuver quickly.

Don't make the mistake of thinking that because she prefers close range combat and isn't proficient with magic she can't attack at a distance. Her gauntlets possess finger laser guns and she can use her left glove (which she also wears under her gauntlet) to access her weapon hoard at all times. Who knows what else she keeps in there?

Even her civilian outfit isn't harmless. She still has access to her innate Suplex and Hammer abilities, after all. And those shoes have steel toes! Of course, the platform heels are just to keep her delicate wings from scraping across the ground when folded. No other reasons. (Like being taller.)

Design Thoughts:

Olympea is the first of the Heroes of Yore who came to me. I was thinking about how to describe the Heroes of Yore and knew I wanted at least one to be a woman. Suddenly her name resounded through my head! Then I just started associating. Olympea sounds like Olympics, so she must be strong. Pea calls to mind small, round and green, so what if she's (mostly) the same species as Galacta Knight? Peas are famous for research on genetics and alleles, so what if she was born, not formed like him? Maybe she doesn't have a lot of magical affinity. Then she needs weapons. Pea, peace, pea shooters, peas in a pod, peacemaker, pea-smacker. Let's give her a hammer, no, a club! She's strong, so what if she packs a punch? How about some gauntlets for punching? She can have a gun, wait, let's put the gun (pea shooter!) in her gauntlet's finger! She needs storage for her weapon hoard (girl needs to accessorise!) so what if her enchanted gauntlets let her access dimensional storage (peas in a pod)? Hmmm, does she have wings? There's a bug called a pea moth, so she has moth wings now. Her ponytail is twisted like a dried pea pod and not-so-coincidentally looks a bit like a cocoon when down and a boxing glove while up in a bun.

I maaay have gone completely overboard with the whole pea thing, but such is life. Although there is a bit of Hammer Lord in there as well. She doesn't hate magic, she just doesn't have a lot of affinity for it. She does enjoy tinkering and building weapons. This is how she ended up relying mostly on technology instead of magic.

She's not a knight and has no mask, because while many people depict all adult puffballs as masked knights (probably influenced by the Star Warriors from the K:RBAY anime) I personally don't think this has to be universal for their kind. How sad it would be if all they were destined for was fighting! ...And then I made her a warrior anyway. Oh well.

[the-healthy-human-mind]

MY DARLING DOVE!! Christening ur blog with knife anon activities.

Various petplay things I think the 141 would enjoy (for themselves and others ♡)

Ghost: shock collars. Masochism go brr. Boot humping. But I'm biased on that one lmao .

Soap: muzzles. And also using a squeaky toy as a gag.

Gaz: crates. :333 loves to tease u by rubbing his cock against the wire bars and watching u lick up all the pre bc its all ur gonna get 🥺

Price: not being allowed on furniture, drinking water out of a bowl, ect. The more dehumanizing shit gets him off

-🔪

KNIFEY!! My dear kitchen utensil ❤️❤️

You are absolutely right- Simon needs the pain of the shock collar to truly be able to enjoy playtime. Make him hump your boot, call him a mutt, and make him clean his mess!

Soap views the muzzle and squeaky toys as a punishment - he would much rather your fingers gagging him, your hand over his mouth. Put him in a cock cage and leave him in his doggy bed on the floor with his squeaky toys, he’ll come begging for forgiveness quickly.

Gaz enjoys watching you hump your toys in your crate, all needy and whining for him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. But don’t be afraid to turn the tables on him. Put a vibrating plug in him and watch him squirm. Begging and pleading for you to turn the toy off, mewling as he watches you stuff your pretty cunt with your fingers.

Now, Price rarely gives control up in my opinion. But when he does? He’s the most obedient pup of yours. Sitting at your feet all pretty and needy. Cock leaking all over the floor. Let him at your cunt, licking and slobbering, drool pooling in his beard.

[luislosing]

I did an illustration for @squeaky-boots-blog 's fanfic

Captive Captain. - Chapter 1 - lit3rally_obs3ss3d, Squeakyboots99 - Octonauts [Archive of Our Own]

im sure nothing could possibly go wrong... right?

gonna draw more for this fic 👍cuz its very good

[flaray25]

Bubbles?

Remembered Goldie so I had to draw her again @squeaky-boots-blog hey squeak, I know its been- a year or two now since we never talk anymore. Just stoppin by to drop this off-

Hope you have a nice day!

[wordgirlexploration]

i finally got the whole blog set up and fancified to my liking :3

now that that’s out of the way, hi, i’m ale, and design is my passion. i drew all of our refs for Exploration, and now i’d like to divulge some details about why we designed characters the way we did!

i’ll be going in lineup order, so feel free to pull those bad boys up and follow along :]

Cpt. Huggyface

at Raven’s request, we have made him look more like a creature. we really wanted him to look like no Earthling monkey, so that it was less obvious compared to Bob, the other monkey in Fair City.

we’ve removed his shirt. Huggy can change color at will, and blue is his most iconic color, so we decided to just. make him blue. 

his lightning bolt insignia is also blue. this is because it isn’t actually an insignia, it’s a scar. it’s grown over with fur now, but the color changing is still a little off in that area.

we gave him an aviator's helmet because he is one. it was a lot more interesting than his original.

his antenna curves slightly because i thought it looked stupid sticking straight up.

another note on his antenna: it's not part of his helmet, it's his actual antenna.

WordGirl

we have her a ponytail for her ease of flying and fighting people. keeps it from getting in her face.

one little flyaway on her ponytail is star-shaped - because stars are WordGirl’s shape :]

we also gave her a star-shaped mask to make it easier for her to conceal her identity.

the neck of her cape is now a little turtleneck, it keeps her warm in those high altitudes.

her gloves and boots are based off how they look in the comics. also i like drawing defined shoes :]

WordGirl has blue eyeshines because she has a nictitating membrane, like a cat. also, her eyes are star-shaped because those are her shape.

her sclera are slightly yellowish, due to her powers. her eyes are also more of a dark red for the same reason.

you can't see them, but she has little fangs. adds to her alienness.

Becky

Becky has two upward flyaways on her head. this is because she has a bee motif (spelling bee), and those are the antenna

her headband has a small gold thing at the end, because it doubles as the headband for her helmet.

also has star-shaped eyes, but hers are slightly smaller, and less obviously noticeable.

has a bee necklace, because of her bee motif.

the pleated skirt was an accident i drew before looking at a reference. but i drew those pleats, so i had to keep them.

we gave her skirt pockets, because pockets are a nice thing for skirts to have!

we kinked her and Wordgirl's hair. she deserves curly hair with volume <3

Tobey

he has stupid hair. one of his cowlicks looked very awkward, so i decided to make it reminiscent of his robits antennae.

he has sectoral heterochromia - we agree that Tobey has heterochromia, but we agree slightly stronger that his eyes are blue.

his knees are a little scuffed up. i picture he's fallen off the robits a few times and scraped em.

his socks are lowered slightly. he's older now, so we thought his socks should be more reasonable.

Steven Boxleitner + Two-Brains + Squeaky

Steven's ref is chocked full of references to his fate as Two-Brains.

first is the tail-like flyaway on the back of his head. it's inspired by a comic character, and is meant to be reminiscent of a mouse tail.

the same goes for Two-Brains's two brain, it's shaped like a mouse to resemble Squeaky, and the flyaway of the hair tuft under it is meant to be her tail.

i noticed that Squeaky actually has a little bit of a snaggletooth, so i gave that, along with the normal mouse chompers, to Two-Brains.

his bowtie resembles mouse ears

on Steven, his lab coat sleeves are actually tucked into his long gloves. on Two-Brains, they are cut off.

Steven wears a button-up shirt tucked into his pants. Two-Brains wears a t-shirt.

Two-Brains belt is falling out, because Squeaky does not care for clothes and TB must put them on as fast as possible.

inspired by the same comic character as before, the tail of his labcoat is also meant to resemble the tail of a mouse.

Steven has dressy shoes, with spat-like coloring that matches with Becky's. Two-Brains has sneakers that are inspired by a lot of furry art i see where their toes are out - TB does not have his toes out, but the lines are meant to resemble paws.

Squeaky does not let TB tie his laces.

Squeaky herself resembles a dumbo rat, despite being a mouse. Her not looking like the ideal mouse is what lead to her being on sale.

Two-Brains has little chin whiskers, because mice have So Darn many. that's also what his little zigzag flyaway is meant to resemble.

Chuck

Chuck's lettuce is a bit more leafy and his eyes are dots to add to his innocent, cuteness factor.

Raven told me he has pickles, so i drew a little pickle on him.

Chuck has freckles that resemble the crumb of white bread. or he has a crumb that resembles freckles.

he has a turtleneck, we didn't think his ma would want him to go out without a sweater.

we couldn't figure out his shoes - so we decided to make them rainboots that look like green olives.

Butcher

we gave him blue eyes because it's good contrast.

i gave him a little face bandage because i thought it would be funny if he cut himself shaving.

i gave him a little chest hair. you can probably guess why :,]

gave him generic loafers based on a line where he mentioned his shoes not having laces.

Lil' Mittens

gave him mittens <3

he now has a little red collar with a bell, because i think once Butcher lost him once, he had to make sure he never lost him again. his collar is red because it's the meatiest color.

The Whammer

we once came across a furry wordgirl au, and started to think about what the other characters would be. obviously, we decided that Whammer was a bull. we decided to take that idea and run with it, and make him a cute little cowboy.

he has cow ears. Raven pitched the idea, and initially i put them on his helmet, and then where human ears would go. Raven eventually had to kick me and tell me to put them were cow ears would go. Raven was right.

i think cow eartags are really cute, so i had to give him one.

initially, i gave Whammer an anti-nursing tag on his nose. Raven thought it was too much and told me to make it a nose ring. you know, like a BULL.

i get nervous when a character design uses too many colors, and everyone agreed that Whammer's outfit was really ugly. so we decided to make it purple and orange, like his mask, to make those "his" colors.

Invisi-Bill

Invisi-Bill is a neat little creature, and ever since i started drawing him, i decided to give him elf ears for no real reason than to make him more creaturelike.

in A Questionable Pair, it's shown Invisi-Bill has his ears pierced. i look advantage of his long ears and gave him an earring with a chain.

he has I cufflinks because he's Invisi-Bill! yay!

he has a tooth gap because he is my favorite and i have a tooth gap :]

he has 2-tone wingtip shoes because he is my favorite i like 2-tone wingtip shoes :]

Big Left Hand Guy

blhg has slightly darker skin, because i think he's related to the stout, tan-skinned bank guard.

i gave him a cane based on a mention in the fanfic BLHG's Big Dilemma by DandyMaximilian. helps him not stand knocked over slightly.

he has one gay earring, based on the designs of rootbeertime. i just put it on the right ear. i think it's funny he would do that.

Ms Question

has yellow sclera, because that's the color her eyes were when she first got her powers.

i've seen at least two fanarts of her with question mark earrings, and i think it's really, really cute.

we thought that her little black wrist braces were silly. we decided to full-on give her black gloves.

Raven really loved the little gold trim of WordGirl's boots in the comics, and wanted to give this lady also with red boots the same touch.

The Coach

none of us really care for The Coach, so he is basically the same as canon. except for his cuffs!!! i had to fix his cuffs!! they were the wrong color!!!

Kid Math

when we decided to give Becky a bee motif, we also decided that Kid Math should also have a bug. we decided on making him a termite, because Hexagon is a math-based society, and architecture is pretty mathy.

we replaced his cape with wings. it adds to his alien nature. additionally, winged termites are young creatures who are sent out to scout for new territory. Kid Math is young, and it relates slightly to our arc for him.

he has hexagon-shaped eyes to contrast WordGirl's star-shaped ones. 

he has compound eyes like a fly, and orangey sclera, to add to his buginess and alienness.

he has little fangs.

Mr. Big

mostly the same as canon, but i upped his bunnyness and fancied his shoes.

his tie is now striped to resemble his mind control beams.

i thought the little kerchief in his pocket looked ugly, so i replaced it with a itty bitty squishy bunny.

he also has bunny cufflinks :]

The Squishy Bunnies, i guess

i just made them cute. i couldn't bring myself to draw their canon designs

Leslie

basically the same as canon, but bunnyed her up a little. we thought it would be funny if Mr. Big had no dress code, aside from "one bunny item", so we gave her a bunny hairclip and bunny earrings.

her choker is black now because we didn't think the purple really needed to be there

Granny May

made her hair more curly, because she is a black woman.

made her pearls slightly more yellow, because they're old.

her pearl necklace has a little diamond shape on it as a button to turn into her metal suit.

made the band on her dress green and a bow, because we thought it was cute and old ladyish :]

gave her a cane, because she's a little older than she used to be. also, it's a new weapon against WordGirl

Colonel Mustard

gave him some hair back. mostly because i thought his exposed cheek was ugly, and figured i'd give him the paws back while i was at it.

Victoria Best

we thought it would be fun if she wasn't really blonde.

i lowered her pigtails and made her ties bows, because she's a little older now, and the bows were cuter.

at the request of Robin, she now has freckles to resemble her brother.

we gave her slightly pinkish nudey eyeshadow, because we felt like she would be the type to wear it.

her eyes are inspired by ocular albinism, her eyes are blue, but in certain lights, become red, like when her eyes glow.

her skirt is pleats now, like Becky.

we gave her mary janes, because they're kinda like Becky's silly shoes, but Better.

Lady Redundant Woman

we made her slightly paler, to resemble a blank piece of printer paper.

made her eyes CMY, like a printer.

her downward-facing eyelashes are meant to resemble ink dripping from her eyes.

canonically she has lips, but none of us thought the pink suited her. so we gave her a cute black upper lip, like ink.

we pinked her suit slightly to moreso resemble the magenta of a printer.

i made her belt a floppy disk. i just thought it'd be funny.

we gave her boots a white trim, because Raven thought her boots were white.

Maria, Charlie, Meatball

basically unchanged from canon

[starshine-wagner]

Home

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x fem!reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: talk of grieving and death, depression, general angst 

A/N: This is a re-upload to move it from my old blog to my current blog.

This small stretch of beach had always been my safe space. It was a spot for just me and my feelings to simply be. The cold whip of the wind on my face was always like a reset… a cleansing, gentle slap from the world. I never minded the sand finding its way into my boots now and then. It kept me grounded.

Every time I climbed the hilly dune, it was like I was crossing the boundary between weight and freedom. Over the hill, to the ocean, I’d find real peace, even if just for a moment.

The summertime found this beach full of color from tourists’ umbrellas, childrens’ kites, the bright green sea grass, and the deep blue of the ocean. However, it’s here in the off-months that I feel most at home. When the water is a frothing grey. When the grass has faded to a brownish-olive. When tourists are long gone and back in their cozy city lives. When the rocks along the shore tumble along with no one to pick through them and take home a hidden treasure. 

So, when Josh came to visit my home for the first time, I knew just where I’d take him. He’d been asking for months to make the trip, but I put it off, making excuses of all kinds. It seemed so… intimate… to let him into that part of my life.

He was my best friend, yes. But that was it. Nothing more. He’d already taken hold of my present and, most likely, my yearning future. Did I want him peeking into parts of my past, as well? There was a reason I’d left home to forget. 

“You driving?” he asked, pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Yeah, lemme just tell th- her. Tell her we’re going. Wanna go start the car for me?”

Josh ran out the door ahead of me to get the heat going in my car. It was January, and the ocean chill had firmly settled in this part of New England. I let my mom know we were out and would be back for dinner before following Josh out to my car. I hopped in the driver’s seat and backed out of the driveway. The red family minivan was a showstopper… in the worst of ways. The engine made a squeaky noise every time I sped up and the backseat door on the left side didn’t have a handle anymore. Still, it got us where we needed to go. We only lived a few miles from the shore, so I wasn’t worried about the van. If we were making a long road trip, that would be another story.

“You know, I haven’t spent much time at beaches. Of course we’d go to Saginaw Bay. That was fun. But only a few times a year, really. Not much of a beach family.” 

“Lake Huron is not a real beach, Josh. If there’s not the looming threat of being eaten by a shark, it’s not a real beach!”

“All right, all right.” He patted my knee before taking back his hand and placing it on his lap. Don’t take it back. “Hey, wasn’t Jaws filmed around here? One of my favorites. Let me Google it. No wonder Spielberg liked it so much out here…” He went to whip out his phone, but I was quicker. 

“It was, but over on one of the islands. We could take the ferry over tomorrow if you’d like.” 

I turned up the radio and tuned it to the hits station, just for some background noise. It covered up the squeaky engine well enough. Josh had his head back on the headrest, turned to look out the window. I peeled my eyes from the roads I knew like the back of my hand to peek over at him. His jaw tensed and relaxed while his hands fidgeted in his lap. I love your hands. I could see his eyes in the reflection of the window. Closed and deep in thought. 

It wasn’t weird for us to sit in silence. We were so comfortable that, if anything, the silence felt like an interaction of its own. A permission, as if to say, “you don’t need to perform here. Just be.” It wasn’t always like that with other people. I guess that’s why I enjoyed being around him so much. He set me at ease. That must be it. I don’t have a secret, forbidden, terrible, embarrassing, hopeless crush on him. I am just comfortable for once… 

When I pulled up to the lot, which boasted a grand total of 4 parking spots, I was not surprised to find that we were the only ones here. Any time between June and August, there would be no way to get a spot at this time of day. Alas, those times were long gone.

“Woah. You weren’t kidding. This is small.”

From where the car was parked, all we could see was a giant mound of sand and seagrass. The ocean was just on the other side of the dune. I took a deep breath, absorbing as much heat from the car as I could, before stepping out. Josh made his way around the car to my side, hands in his pockets, and gave me a nudge with his elbow.

“Lead the way, then, chief!”

“Hmm. Race you to the top!” I started running. Well, more like attempting to fast-walk while sinking into the shifting sand. Josh was a few steps behind, clearly struggling too. 

“Damn. This is harder than it looks!”

“Get used to it, Midwest boy.” I retorted, feeling a little smug. Finally, something the guy couldn’t do better than me. 

“Wow,” he said at the top of the dune.

“Yup.” We stood catching our breath as we looked out at the ocean. It was a windy day, so the waves were a bit choppy and the air threatened to cut through my jacket. Josh’s fingers twitched a bit, probably because he didn’t have a sufficient amount of layers to keep himself warm. I peeked over at him past the fringe of my hair blowing in the wind. He was scanning the shore from West to East taking it all in. You’d think he’d never seen the ocean before. 

“Shall we?” I broke the silence. His only response was a smiley smirk and a nod. We meandered down the dune towards the more packed, darker sand of the immediate shoreline.

“Woah! Check it out!” He let go of me and ran a few yards over before squatting down to look at something. “The hell is that?” he asked. “Did we just find an alien…?” 

“You, good sir, have just found yourself a horseshoe crab. Congratulations!” I bent over to see that the top of its shell was cracked. A seagull had clearly gotten to it before we did. As I reached down to flip it over and see the underside, Josh wacked my hand.

“What are you doing?! Crazy ass…”

“No, I’m showing you the cool part, look! It won’t hurt me. It’s dead.” I flipped it over and showed Josh the belly of the crab. It’s 10 legs and stingray-like tail made it look intimidating, but it really was a gentle little creature. Once Josh realized it really wouldn’t hurt, he leaned in closer to take a look. He was always so intrigued by the smallest of things. He was a man who loved to learn, who loved to take in new sights, sounds, and knowledge everywhere he went. It was charming, and one of the reasons I’d come to care for him so much. He took a seat on a rock from the nearby jetty to do some wikipedia research - a real scientist move. 

I took a moment to close my eyes and gather myself. I had no reason to be anxious about taking him here. This was Josh. He was my best friend. We’d only known each other for eight months or so, but we became close so quickly. He knew most everything there was to know about my current life. My dislikes, likes, habits, hobbies, Chipotle order, the shampoo I used, and the specific times in the morning that my alarms went off. He knew my grandparents by name and asked about them often. He knew how to cheer me on a dreary day and how to calm me down after a fight with my roommates. Maybe he didn’t know much about my past. So what? That was then, and this was now.

Deep breath in. 

Eyes open, fixed on the horizon.

Deep breath out.

I called out to him.

“Josh?” He’d sit there all day, even in the cold, if I didn’t snap him out of Google-scholar mode. 

“Right. Sorry. That thing is just so cool. I can’t believe I’ve never seen one before. Remind me to look it up again when we get back?” He stood up, putting his phone back in the pocket of his khaki-colored pants.

“You got it.” I laughed. We made our way up to the point where the crashing waves met the wet sand. Low-tide was on its way. Tentatively, he bit his lip and turned ever so slightly to me. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah of course! Why…did I do something?”

“Just checking.” He seemed satisfied with that. 

“Here, follow me.” I grabbed his hand to pull him up to my pace before letting go. “I’m going to show you the best part.” We stumbled along the rocks and I nearly had to catch him several times as he slipped on the wet rocks left behind by the receding ocean. If I was proud of anything, it was my native ability to navigate the shoreline’s treachery with ease. He, on the other hand, was sputtering out various “fucks” and “shits” and “goddammits.” 

“It might sound dumb, but this is my favorite spot.” We finally stopped at the edge of the sand. This part of the beach curved out, creating its own sort of peninsula into the sea. It was essentially an island of rocks. “If you stand right… one second,” I took a large step to the furthest rock, and faced back to him, “here. If you stand right here and look forward, it looks like you’re in the middle of the ocean.” I shuffled back around, keeping my balance on the rock, and took my hands out of my pockets. My face to the sky. Here, there was nothing but me and the vast promise of the waters. Deep breath. “Okay you try!”

I reached out for Josh, using his shoulders to balance as we traded spots, me now on the smaller pile and him on the big rock at the end.

“I hate admitting this to you right now, but I’m kind of fucking scared,” he laughed. His eyes were essentially screaming as he gripped my shoulders and refused to let go or stand up straight, teeth still bared in a nervous grin.

“You’re gonna be fine, J, just focus. You should be good at this with all that yoga shit, right?”

“Okay well that’s in my living room. Not on a slippery chunk of mineral at the edge of a frozen wasteland of sharks and fish and seaweed…” With that, he let go and turned. 

“Good! See! Okay, now just lift your chin a little and look out at the horizon.” He did as I said. I couldn’t see his face from where I stood, but I saw his shoulders relax a bit and his back inflate as he took a deep breath. The smell of low-tide, though not always the most traditionally pleasant, was a comfort. It reminded me of days spent on the beach with my… with Dad. 

Dad. It was hard coming home since he died. I hated even thinking about it. He wasn’t there to greet me at the door with some embarrassing nickname. He wasn’t there to insist on teaching me how to make Chicken Parmesan for the sixth time. He wasn’t blasting some political YouTube talk show on his phone in the middle of the living room. Taking Josh here knowing that Dad wouldn’t be here felt wrong. I wasn’t showing him my home. Not really. Sure, it was where I grew up. Where I loved and cherished and longed for. But it wasn’t complete. It never would be again.

Before I knew it, my eyes started to fill with tears. Shit. I didn’t want to cry today. But, dammit, this felt so terrible. I didn’t want to distract Josh from his moment on the rock. His moment in the middle of nowhere and everywhere at once. I kept my sniffles well-timed in accordance with each wave that broke at Josh’s feet. I dared to take my hands out of my pockets and wipe the tears from both of my eyes. I didn’t want him to see me.

“Don’t you thi- hey.” He had turned around. “Hey, what’s… can I…” Ugh.

“Hey! Nothing! I-“

“You’re crying.” Very astute observation. 

“No, the wind. It’s just so… ya know. It stings… I guess.” 

“I know you better than that, chief. Come on.” In an unexpected rush of confidence, he leapt off the rock. Once on my level, he grabbed my hand - oh - and led me back toward the sea grass and sand. 

“I really don’t ne-“

“Shut up and sit with me,” he smiled, shaking his head. He sat down on the slope of the dune, back to the grass, and let go of my hand to pat the spot next to him with an expectant look on his face. I gave in, knowing we probably wouldn’t last long on the chill of the ground. 

“I know you’ve been a little off. I’m not blind. What’s up? For real this time.” His eyes pleaded with me to open up, and every part of me wanted to let my deluge of emotions spill onto him. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t mess this up. I wouldn’t be a ‘needy bitch’ again. 

“Josh, you know I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know..” He put his hand on my knee and shifted a little closer to my side. “But I hate this. I hate knowing you’re upset and not knowing how to fix it. You’re my… you’re my best friend.”

I tilted my head to the left and let my hair fall between us. A little curtain of privacy. A brief moment of respite. 

And then I broke. 

I didn’t mean for an ugly sob to fall out of my mouth. I didn’t mean for my tears to fall across my cheeks and onto my jeans below, staining them the saddest color blue I’ve ever seen. I didn’t mean for him to feel my breaths come in heaving gasps as I fought every instinct I had. But there I was. And so was he. Still there. Not retreating. Shouldn’t he be backing off by now? 

The most gentle, “hey,” whispered across his lips as he came close and enveloped me in his arms. I stayed tense, not wanting to go there, not allowing myself to hug him back. But, it didn’t last long. 

I let go into him. I grabbed the back of his jacket in my fist and squeezed it with all my strength, my face tucked into the space between his collar and his neck. My tears fell onto his skin and raced down his collarbones, and he began to rub my back with his thumb while his other hand held the back of my head. He pulled me even tighter against him. I felt the pain seeping out of me and onto him as we sat there. I hated myself for forcing him into this position.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he kept repeating so quietly, barely louder than the sound of the waves crashing. So patient. He didn’t rush me as I worked myself back to a calm to the rhythm of his strokes against my back. 

“You know, you’re really comfy,” I managed to squeak out, hoping to lighten the moment just a bit. I felt the rumble against his chest as he chuckled in response. I pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just, cry in front of you like that. I don’t really know what happened.”

He winced and scrunched his brows together as he lifted the hand that had been holding me to my cheek to wipe off a stray tear that his chest hadn’t caught.

“Don’t say that. Don’t apologize.”

“I don’t want you to be… ya know… like, a burden or anything. We’re having so much fun and I’m so glad you’re here.”

“A burden? Why…” he almost looked offended, “I mean, why would you even say that?”

“I just mean. Like. Friends aren’t supposed to put that kind of stuff on each other.”

He thought a moment. His knee bounced a little beside mine. 

“What if we aren’t supposed to be friends?”

Ah, yes. The moment I’d been waiting for. The exact reason I was hesitant to open up in the first place. He didn’t want to be my friend anymore. Immediately, I was brought back to three years ago. Sitting in a world of hurt in my college dorm room, screaming into my pillow, leaving the door locked and my phone unanswered for days. The depression had taken a turn for the worse about a month after Dad died and I was supposed to be back to my daily routine. On the rare occasions I did leave my room, I made it a point not to see anyone I knew. If I did, I feared I’d unleash my anger on them. 

My Dad didn’t deserve to die. He was too young. He had so much to look forward to in life. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle, become a Papa to my kids, and retire to Florida with Mom. I was pissed. Why was this my reality? Why was it his? This wasn’t how life was supposed to work out. 

After weeks of this kind of isolation and avoidance, Caroline had had enough. She had been so supportive at the beginning, coming to my town for the funeral and making sure to contact all of my professors to let them know so I wouldn’t have to. She called out of work for me and brought me my favorite meals. I felt so cared for those first few weeks. But, she could only deal with my sadness for so long. 

Caroline wanted to get back to our routine and I didn’t blame her. I missed spending nights on Eaton Street basements without a care in the world, too. I missed when homework and grades were my biggest stress, too. I missed when my Dad was alive. And so, she gave up. A loud argument in my room and a few nasty remarks back and forth. She couldn’t carry the weight of my depression. I hadn’t thought I’d been putting it on her. 

‘Selfish.’ ‘Enough is enough.’ ‘Needy bitch.’ 

She stormed out and I hadn’t heard from her since. We spent the rest of senior year avoiding each other. What was supposed to be the year of our lives became the year I felt most alone. My sadness had ruined it. I wasn’t about to let it ruin this, too. 

What if we aren’t supposed to be friends?

“Oh,” was all I could muster. My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. But before I could finish the phrase I’m sorry, my face was met by the chill of Josh’s cold hands, and my lips were being introduced to his. He held me so delicately, like he was afraid I’d fall apart if he pushed too hard.

After a moment of shock, (I still wasn’t totally sure what was happening), I let go again. This time, into his kiss. My hands fisted the front of his jacket, and he moved one of his to the back of neck, leaving the other one to wander down my side.

He grasped around like he didn’t know what to do, where to go. Like he’d had a million places he wanted to touch. After a moment, he pulled away, but reached out to interlock my right hand in his. I looked down at them, molded together. 

“I never wanted to be your friend.” 

Silence.

“And before you respond, just listen.” I allowed my silence to act as an agreement. “I don’t know what it is that you’re feeling. But I know about me. I know that I’ve never wanted to take on someone’s hurt so badly before in my life. When we were little and Jake broke his arm, I felt so frustrated that I couldn’t fix it. I would’ve gladly switched places with him to spare the injury. But even that’s nothing compared to… whatever it is I’m feeling right now.”

I bowed my head and looked off to the side to hide my embarrassment at Josh’s confession. I didn’t feel worthy of this kind of care. That was, until, he reached out and lifted my chin so our eyes met again.

“Look. I- I know I haven’t been like, super clear, the past, well… however long we’ve been friends. But I care for you. More than the way a friend does.” He ran his palm down his face but kept his honey eyes locked on mine. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I just, I didn’t want to ruin this. And I hope that I didn’t. You’re my best f-“

This time, I was the one to shut him up. 

“I don’t want to be your friend either, Josh.” 

He allowed a tiny grin to take over.

“Well, all right then.” He looked pretty pleased with himself and, dare I say, embarrassed? It was kind of nice to know I made him flustered and I couldn’t help but let out a little bit of a laugh. 

“… I can’t believe you kissed me.”

His eyes went wide, looking from side to side. “Was I not supposed to?” 

“I don’t know. But… could you do it again?” And so he did. Eagerly. In a mess of sand. Bits of grass found its way into my hair as he laid me back on the slope of the dune. 

On the walk back to the car, Josh reached down and grabbed an empty muscle, instructing me to do the same. 

“Here, come fill it with a bit of the water.” Once both of our shells were full, he raised his to the wintery blue sky. “Here’s to us not being friends.”

“To us not being friends,” I agreed and we clinked our shells together before tossing them back to the sea. He reached for my hand and laid a sweet kiss on each of my knuckles, before tucking our folded hands into his pocket.

I wasn’t sure where this would go. I knew I was in for a shitload of hard conversations and emotional spillage about the past. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe he would have the right words to say. 

Maybe. Just maybe home could feel some kind of complete again.

[ticklyenderman]

welcome to the rp blog:)

last updated: may 30, 2023 12:48PM

main: @strangleetomz

This account is strictly SFW, the owner of this blog (me) is a minor. NSFW DNI!

Hc’s are a work in progress.

general hc’s💜

Originally, Ranboo is from the End and was royalty. That’s why they wear the crown.

They are nonbinary and use they/he pronouns //they mostly prefer they/them but doesn’t particularly mind he/him.

They’re often caught carrying a grass block or their memory book. If not either of those then they will most likely just have their hands in their pockets.

Constantly surrounded & followed by enderman particles.

They are very anxious and shy, all the time. They speak quietly a lot unless around somebody they really, really trust.

They are typically found either in snowchester or a forest, sometimes just wandering the SMP.

They spend way too much time mining, they overwork themselves.

appearance hc’s🌓

Their skin & hair is very messily split black and white. On the white side of their body, their hair is black. On the black side of their body, their hair is white.

This isn’t a hc considering it is canon, but they are 8’5. They’re often more hunched over to appear somewhat shorter, and it’s entirely fucked up their posture. Their platform boots make them about 8’8-8’9.

Their wardrobe consists of black suits, black dress pants, black skirts (hardly ever wears), red ties, black ties, black platform boots, and white platform boots. They do own a couple sweaters and more comfortable pants, but they almost never wear them. They have flower crowns from Tubbo and Tommy, and emerald earings from Techno and Phil.

They have light purple scars on their face, streamed down like tears. Water burns them because they’re an enderman, so when they would cry it burned them badly and scarred their face.

they have fangs

they’re hair is long, it reaches their shoulders and sometimes their neck / ears get tickled by their own hair

they also have two tails that r very fluffy!! and they have horns !!!!

lee hc’s🌙

this poor. poor baby/hj

they are very much a shy and gentle lee

they love gentle tickles

but they also love rougher tickles

when they get tickled, if its going to last a bit then they prefer it starting gentle and gradually leading to rough / playful

they cannot handle any teases or complements. at all.

they can NOT say the “t word.” if they try it’ll just be “t- t- t.. ti- t… aagh! i can’t do it..”

THEY BLUSH PURPLE. PURPLE BLUSH/pos

they are most definitely a lee leaning switch.

they looooveeee tickle kisses/p, raspberries & nibbles ! :D

they don’t really say many protests, they just take whatever torture (/j) theyre given. unless with tubbo or tommy or sometimes wilbur, then threats and protests will be given.

they can’t handle rough or light, both techniques will kill them. they can never win/hj

(to the mfs w/ wings they are very feather sensitive btw😇)

ler hcs⚡️

they are also a shy ler!

they don’t really tease as much because they’re very anxious almost all the time and just not confident when it comes to tickling others. so, they resort to complements.

example; “aww, look at you!” “you’re laughter is adorable, i could listen to it all day.” “you’re so cute!” etc etc

they will eventually gain more confidence once it goes on long enough, until then enjoy being a puddle of giggles and flusteredness

fangs. nibbles. they give nibbles. have somebody prepare ur funeral when this happens/hj

they are suprisingly very good at raspberries as well

they love giving tickle kisses just as much as they love receiving, however they’ll only do this to certain people. (they accept them from anyone though)

they have claws! perfect for light traces>:} /vpos

they will often ask things like “is this okay?” and start off really gentle, because they’re afraid of hurting their lee, making them uncomfortable or “doing it wrong.”

spot hc’s🌺

palms / hands: 3/10, not insanely bad but you’ll get some really soft / squeaky giggles !

arms / shoulders : 3.5/10, about the same as their hands just sliiightly worse

sides: 5.3/10: any technique here will get them to be really reallyy squirmy and giggly, tasering / poking gets them to squeal and raspberries or even nibbles if u decide to do that will get them to shriek. (nibbles or raspberries anywhere get them shrieking)

underarms: 6/10, any tickles here get loud squeals n giggles, rough or light, tracing or scribbles, anything here gets them rlly bad

stomach: 7.5/10, this spot’s not horrible, however, if you you use the right techniques that can escalate to a 10/10 real quick. raspberries or nibbles?? they are a deadman/j. you go for their navel ??? deadman !!/j if u do that thing where its like you trace / circle their stomach, getting closer to their navel before attacking ?? deadman./j BUT light tickles ?? hello?? gentle tracing, light scribbles / spidering ?? loud giggles, squeals. tickle kisses here ?? oohh they’ll melt. blushy giggly melty ranboo !!/pos

back: 7.6/10 this spot is great for gentle tickles, it is mostly a melt spot but it depends on what techniques u use!

thighs: 8/10, loud laughter n shrieks from this spot !! and kicks ! i reccomend pinning lmaoo they r a KICKER /pos

knees: 8.3/10 wHEHWW you should DEFINITELY pin them for this they WILL kick you WILL receive brain damage once kicked with those long ass legs /hj they will be yelling and most definitely trying to get away from you bc its just. SO. bad/pos

ribs: 9/10, they SCREAAM once this is targetted ! lots of squirming n bucking, if u do the rib counting game they’ll die. lower ribs are worse than upper but they’re both still very bad! weeakkk to raspberries here, and their back ribs ?? they’ll die. they will die. raspberries or nibbles there kill them btw

hips: 100/10 UUEHEHAHAHFJS THIS SPOT GETS THEM SCREAMING !! Shrieky laughter, squeals, bucking their hips, you MUST pin if you tickle them here they will be ALL OVER THE PLACE!! raspberries ?? killer. nibbles ?? killer.

neck / ears: 10/10!! especially the back of their neck, they’ll die!! but theyre so tall that nobody can ever reach up there, no one expects them to be so insanely ticklish there! they keep these spots protected at all costs even if the person doesnt pose a “threat.” raspberries to the back of their neck will kill them, raspberries anywhere on their neck will kill them but especially on the back. nibbles will kill them. absolutely destroy them. kisses ?? squeals n melts its adorable

boundaries

NSFW DNI!! I WILL NOT RP WITH YOU IF YOU ARE AN NSFW BLOG.

I prefer rping with people i already know / am friends with! sorry

i am not really comfortable with feet tkls i guess something brief like a tail or smth brushing on their foot would be fine ?? but try to just like not do anything w/ it at all

do not constantly remind me to respond! i will respond whenever i can think of a response or whenever i want to respond

No stocks or tools. Pinning and holding hands up or pinning hands under ur knees is fine but NO STOCKS OR TOOLS

[anemcia]

Have you ever stalked the ship of another mun? Have you ever been intimidated by somebody based solely on their writing alone? Have you ever been late on replying to ooc messages/dm’s? Have you ever deleted a sent ask?

Munday: Guilty as CHARGED - [ACCEPTING]

Question 1✨: [HEAVY BREATHING] I mean, I suppose I stalk your ships most of the time HUEHUEHUEHEUHUE-- But I do keep mini tabs of people's ships in my brain in general! Especially when it comes to days when they might want asks about some ships, or something fun/creative for them to play around with? Stalking in the most polite way possible, I just want to see y'all thrive and be happy with the romances. It's big reminders that I just... Need to look after my own OTP(s) too.

Question 2✨: Mostly answered here! But suppose I get more specific? It took me a couple of deep breaths before approaching your blog ngl. Nothing to do with anything you're doing, I'm just the boob who assumes that I'm being a bother for requesting the muses I'm interested in (which is most of them tbh). I don't feel that way nearly as much as I used to, but I admit I've got the squeaky boots back on since returning to tumblr. Baby steps, that's all I need to remind myself of.

Question 3✨: All. The. Time. Though I tend to be a bit faster over discord, I just get swept up in mommy mode until they're off to bed and I can actually recollect my thoughts. And sometimes I'd rather crash and watch TV shows and think about it the next day. Sometimes it leads into a bit of a loop, hence my true motivation to find more time for myself with friends. Get back into my hobbies, relax a bit more.

Question 4✨: Yeah, usually just to clean out or I've missed the window for a meme and I get embarrassed. ;0;

[keyleth-clay]

I posted 4,527 times in 2022

That's 4,132 more posts than 2021!

176 posts created (4%)

4,351 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@quinn-of-aebradore

@vethbrenatto

@viciousmollymaukery

@sparring-spirals

@rainydaydecaf

I tagged 4,527 of my posts in 2022

#critical role - 4,434 posts

#fanart - 3,255 posts

#cr 2 - 1,518 posts

#cr 1 - 1,489 posts

#cr 3 - 883 posts

#moodboard - 578 posts

#vex'ahlia - 317 posts

#keyleth - 313 posts

#vax'ildan - 312 posts

#exu: calamity - 282 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i'm also fully prepared for some emotionally devastating shit in their backstory and how that affects their relationships with the other pcs

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Critical Role Moodboards: Essek Thelyss

165 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

#4

I genuinely love Callopea and I hope that it goes fully canon.

Not because a ship has to go “fully canon” to be legitimate, or to be enjoyed by the fandom, but because I think the dynamic between Fearne and Chetney is so different from the vast majority of ships that we’ve seen on Critical Role so far.

Because the thing is, I feel like a lot of the fandom kind of sees Callopea as a joke? And not just goofy or lighthearted, but kind of mean-spirited. Like, the idea that this could ever be a “legitimate” ship or that it has any meaning to it is laughable. (This is also kind of reflected in fanworks, since there’s basically no art of them, and there’s like... two people making gifs. In comparison to pairings like Imodna or Dorym which, while I do also ship, there is arguably less concrete evidence of in canon at this point in time).

Which I don’t think is true! I think there’s a lot of depth to both Chetney and Fearne, despite being largely comedic characters, and I think there’s also a lot of potential depth to their relationship, despite it being largely played for laughs.

Take Chetney, for example. I think the depth of his character is best summed up with this quote from The Night Before Critmas (and yes, I know that was Chutney, but he was the basis for the character):

“He told me to make Voltron out of wood. No one wanted it. He told me to make a Game Boy. I can't do circuits. He told me to make the little trolls, but the hair didn't move.”

Again, yes it’s comedic, but the core idea of the character was here – because Chetney/Chutney isn’t just talking about toys. He’s talking about himself. A huge part of this character is dealing with the feeling of obsolescence, of the world moving on without you and you not being needed anymore. That same idea also shows up with Bertrand at the beginning of the campaign, and I don’t think that’s an accident, and I don’t think Travis is doing that just for the joke.

Growing older can be scary. Feeling like you’re out of touch with the world, or that you aren’t needed anymore, or that you just don’t understand things anymore – that’s scary. In a way, it feels like parts of the fandom treat a character being old as a punchline – it sometimes feels like the very idea of a character being elderly, and an elderly character wanting some form of intimate relationship in particular, is worthy of mockery.

I’m sure we’ve all seen commercials or interviews or something that contain some variation on “as we age, our need for intimacy does not diminish”. Yes, Chetney has flyaway white hair and wrinkles and a squeaky old voice and a hat he’s almost laughably attached to and goofy curly toed boots, and he is still deserving of love, and that isn’t a joke. Not that that love needs to be romantic love, necessarily, but love nonetheless.

And I think that it makes perfect sense that Fearne would be the one to recognize that! For one thing, she’s the only one in Bell’s Hells that is anywhere near his age (though there is still a noticeable gap, but who knows how the fuck time works in the Feywild anyways). For another, with her wildshaping and his werewolf transformation, the two of them are the only ones in the group that understand that idea of letting animalistic instinct take over, of the freedom of being wild, and also the occasional lack of control or fear that can come with it. Not to mention both of their… impulsive morals.

But there’s two more ways I feel that these two connect, which are even deeper than what I previously mentioned – one of which I only realized after this most recent episode.

The first is related to this wonderful bit of meta from @captainofthetidesbreath, which I’m not going to reiterate here because a) you should go give them some love, and b) because this is long enough as it is. But to sum it up, Chetney is a toymaker, and takes great pride in that. He takes great joy in seeing other people, especially children, finding joy in what he’s crafted. Out of everyone in Bell’s Hells, I feel that Fearne is the only one who would truly appreciate that. Just look at what he’s made for everybody else – a box, which isn’t a toy. A skyship, which was immediately left behind for a child who would actually play with it and appreciate it. A wooden hand? And a house for Pâté and Sashimi, which is kind of a toy and kind of being played with, but also kind of not.

Fearne, on the other hand, has always had a certain whimsy about her. She enjoys the frivolous, she appreciates the silly, and she makes it a point to collect and steal and have things, simply because they make her happy. That, to me, is closest to the heart of why Chetney is a toymaker in the first place.

The second was something that Fearne said in episode 25. When Dusk showed her the locket that contained the portraits of her parents and that whole conversation started up, Fearne said”

“I don’t know where they are, and I’ve been looking for them, but maybe they just forgot? ‘Cause it’s been a very long time since I’ve seen them.”

I’m very curious as to whether this is a thought that she’s had before during her search for her parents – or if this will continue to weigh on her now that she has thought of it, at least until she’s able to reunite with them.

Because I feel like this ties in with the idea I mentioned above of Chetney feeling obsolete now that he’s gotten older. I could see a real and genuine heart-to-heart happening between them over this. I also wonder – Chetney’s never mentioned any family; no parents, no siblings, and most importantly for this Callopea ship manifesto (apparently), no spouse(s) or children. I get the sense from both of them of just… getting used to being alone and being lonely. That they are genuinely lighthearted and humorous individuals, but that humour does still help to hide some heavier feelings.

CHANGING TOPICS ENTIRELY, I also want to touch on something else that might seem completely counter to everything I’ve written here so far, and that is that this ship doesn’t need to be deep! They don’t need to have a “You know I’m in love with you, right?” or a “My heart belongs to someone else” or a “You were not born with venom in your veins”,  etc etc etc.

A ship doesn’t need to be deep and intense and Romantic-with-a-capital-R to be real and genuine and enjoyable! It can be as simple and light and fun as just two people being attracted to each other and having fun exploring that attraction. Hell, their relationship doesn’t even need to be romantic! I’ve seen people headcanon Fearne as arospec, and I love the idea of a non-romantic but still sexual relationship being explored, and not being treated as lesser because of that.

Hell, they could still end up as a romantic relationship, but start out here, with heavy-handed flirting and overt sexual overtones, and see their relationship as fun but ultimately not particularly meaningful, but then *intense and emotionally-heavy moment later in the campaign happens, especially if one of them nearly dies or does die and is brought back*, and then they realize Oh shit, this isn’t just for funsies, I’ve got real actual romantic feelings for them and I’d be miserable if they were gone. Oh fuck.

And that’s not even touching on the wolf/deer theme they’ve got going on, or the sun/moon vibes that they’re rocking, etc.

Basically there’s just… SO much potential for Callopea, guys. I can’t wait to see where it goes.

244 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

#3

Y’know, the “Big moon, little moon” reveal makes the whole conversation with Fearne and Dorian about big/middle/little spoon hurt a whole lot more in retrospect.

305 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

#2

You’ve heard of Elf on the Shelf, now get ready for

783 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

From the moment that Exandria Unlimited: Calamity was announced, everybody was saying that “we already know how it ends, what matters is how they get there. We already know it’s a tragedy.”

Except... it wasn’t tragic. Not really.

Nydas made sure that as many citizens of Avalir survived as possible. He made sure that the students of the Sorcerer’s Academy, his pride and joy, made it out of the city. His brother and his sister-in-law made it out of Cathmoira.

Zerxus got to see his husband again, got to see his son one more time before everything went to shit, He made sure Tempus got out, and because of that, they were reunited. And even though he ended up damning his soul and serving the Lord of the Hells, he did it because there was no other choice he ever would have made.

Patia realized as she died, 1 in-game second into the episode, that you can have all of the knowledge in the world, but it means nothing if it dies with you. Against all odds, she got a second change, a grand total of an hour and a half before she ended up dying for good, and she fucking took it. She made damn sure that that knowledge didn’t die with her. And she always served Avalir, but Avalir is not the cobble streets or the ivory towers or any of the Rings. Avalir is it’s people, and she served them to the very end.

Loquatius was given the opportunity to leave, and he chose to stay with the woman he loves, with the world he loves, with the people he loves. He got one final message out, and with it, made sure that as many people were warned of the danger as possible, made sure that they knew to escape and where to go to do so. He got to be there to see Laerryn’s life’s work reach completion, and that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

Laerryn got to see her life work reach completion - not the way she thought it would, but in a way that mattered infinitely more. She did something brilliant and incomparable, surrounded by her loved ones, in and for and as the Heart of Avalir. She and Loquatius made amends and rekindled their love, and in the last few minutes of their lives were married again. ‘Til death do they part.

And Cerrit broke off from the rest of the party, one of the most taboo things in TTRPGs, and because of that he was able to find a way to make sure his family was safe, he was able to get to his children before things got too bad, he was able to get them out of the city. He fucking killed Vespin Chloras, saved his friend’s life, and made it possible for her to prevent the Primordials from re-entering the world. With one final telepathic map from Laerryn and a symbol of a broken pact from Loquatius, was able to escape and make it back to his family.

None of them died with regret. None of them wished that they had done things differently, there was no would-a should-a could-a. There was more hope than anything else in this story.

925 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[captainlightbulbzz]

MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU SILLY GOOD GOOFY BUDDY CHUM PAL SCRUNG MCBUNG 6 PC CHICKEN NUGGET MCGOOBER PLOOBER MCGEES @driedlemonz @buggaboizz @alyay336 @cookiwi-octonauts @paintbrushscloak @star-scrambled @snowflakepenguin14 @spacefinch @0bs1d1ankn1ght @winterdimez @funky-frankie @c-midori @queerkingdom69 @tweakxkwazii @pee-hat-copy-pasta @arcturthenerd @celestial-draws @squeaky-boots-blog @sabiraclouds @astro-nautic @confusedyawn @enafuyus @panini1111 @pantpisser9000 @fizzycereal @xstarrydawnx @aaapril0987 @pezposting @harper---sea @batbitesthebat @notakoollad

boo nai jumpscare

2023 is coming to an end so this is my annual I love my online friends so fucking much you wouldn't believe me if I told you post.

[whirlibird]

I posted 15,221 times in 2022

That's 4,249 more posts than 2021!

10 posts created (0%)

15,211 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@themadcapmathematician

@randomizedred

@phoenixyfriend

@orange-catsidy

@professorsparklepants

I tagged 14,096 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#wrestling - 1,691 posts

#aew - 1,078 posts

#kits - 585 posts

#misc - 559 posts

#fate - 403 posts

#queue - 319 posts

#fandom - 314 posts

#death note - 289 posts

#tropes - 281 posts

#cm punk - 265 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#shelley was trying to tear sabin's acls again not 2 minutes ago and as soon as the match ends theyre back to being like this instantly

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

do i need to make a pinned post to tell people im not this whirlibirb person. please. this keeps happening. i dont care about whatever internet drama happened but it is SPILLING over into my backyard and i need some kind of shotgun to shoot at the sky and holler at people to get off of my property

6 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

#4

DC for the blorbo meme? :3

this is against the spirit of the meme but i think i can make all of these about hal jordan. i apologize in advance

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) - i didnt care about hal jordan at all until i was told that he was sky crazy. i had just seen come from away so any character that Just Wants To Fly is immediately my beloved. anyway then i shotgunned a bunch of green lantern comics and found out that theyre all deranged. love them all! but especially hal.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) - again Hal Time. i could probably make a collage of every time he gets grabbed like the damsel from king kong. spiritually he is making a squeaky toy noise every time.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) - Hal Is Absolutely Not Underrated but i think outside of the GL fandom most of the green lanterns get sorta neglected. f in chat for the dceu just having No Lanterns. even in dc comics fandom i think a lotta people just think of hal as the generic lantern, like how guy gardner is thought of as the rude ginger guy that batman punched once. theres more to them! they have layers, like onions, like ogres.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) i think this the only one i CANT make about hal but also, like in all superhero comics?? if you see YOUR favourite appearing briefly in someone else's run, you go poggers.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) - PARALLAX HAL. HAL'S HOT GIRL SUMMER. POSTER CHILD FOR MALE HYSTERIA. LOVE THIS BITCH. dc wanted to reboot GL and get a new boy, so how do we get hal out of the picture? destroy his city and make him go full wandavision trying to recreate it and all the people that died! the guardians say no, so he snaps and murders them, as well as like....all the other lanterns on his way to doing that. crushed by his failure to protect his people, he decides the world is fucked and the only way to fix it is to start it over. cue zero hour, where he very nearly managed to reset the entire universe! the death toll was ENORMOUS! he got shot through the heart by his best bud oliver queen before he could finish it though. this triggers ollie's depression arc WHICH IS A WHOLE OTHER THING,,, anyway. well he got shot but he got better because he's hopped up on ultimate cosmic power and whatnot. the 90s comics continue while he is moping in outer space until a sun eater almost destroys the earth, so he comes back and throws himself into the sun to reignite it, dying for realsies this time. and on top of all that the CHANEL THIGH HIGH BOOTS? THE CAPE? iconic. later all this was retconned to be because he was possessed by a yandere space worm that was in love with him. which is also hilarious. someone deworm this man. after he died he became spectre for a while, until kyle rayner dragged his corpse out of the sun and he got to be a lantern again.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) - hal really is most fun when he's fucking going thru it so like. Yeah. top 10 moments is when he's uncharacteristically quiet and looking blankly and ominously into the middle distance, so Every Character Who Was There For His First Hot Girl Summer is just like:

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) - he already went to hell like, twice. once it was with superman. they had a great boys night out. vaguely related but i think sinestro once went through an orpheus and eurydice-esque journey into the underworld and/or spectre hal's subconscious?? and then also one time he and sinestro shared a ring and ended up yeeted to the Death Dimension together. sinestro got himself out so hal had to fling himself off a cliff and Fall To His Death to solve this problem. you can put a lot of icarus flavour into this guy

7 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#3

drac collecting both mina and jonathan and having them nicely arranged on one bed. reverse unicorn hunter

21 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

#2

DOES ANYONE HAVE A GIF OF THE GAY LITTLE WAVE THAT ENJOU DOES AT THE END OF THE THREE REALMS GATEWAY OFFERING QUEST. PLEASE.

61 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

SHAKING AND CRYING AND FROWING UP!!!!! shoutout 2 my friend crane for turning calcifer!john into a gif!!!

547 notes - Posted September 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[spongebob-connoisseur]

More Bat boi but, coloured. I hope you like! May make a digital version of it later on.

×××××××

Ohh its so cuuute!!💖 He looks so vibrant and even more adorable! You should absolutely make a digital version of it! Thank you so so much for sharing it with me :) batbob looks like such a sweet little cutie bat! You could just squish him in your hands💞 tbh he's too spongey to get hurt but you probably shouldn't actually do that xD

I can imagine batbob would make cute stickers! You could make some 👀 I'd love to see what else you'd do with him! He's an adorable idea and I love his design!💖

[thalassic-p4rk]

o h- oh wait this is so nice imma cry-

@harper-sea @moonst0ne07 @hyperfixated-maybe @mooshie-blue @narimeeeeeene @pantpisser9000 @squeaky-boots-blog @toffee-beans @wyattlife @pezbiscuits @mimemamomymelody @spoofaloofa @4eyedloser

(If I didn’t tag u it’s either cuz u were already tagged, I couldn’t remember ur tumblr off the top of my head, or I’m scared of u lol)

BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS ITS INTERNATIONAL FRIENDSHIP DAY

I even pulled up searches to verify

We’re here to MLP style magic of friendship up this bitch up (tumblr) and y’all know it

@bixell-pixell @moshieee @bunnybunnsowo @vexation-816 @lilithloves-you @cherriisodapop @chaos-ace @voidmin @godofbeinghenry @dia-smthidk @darken-hollow @unfunnyaceartist @yunfox00 @anxiouschoco @gennefarious @creativehomicide @flowery-anon @gooblenoodle @gl1tched-r4bb1t @i-ate-your-children @nightmaretherabbit @neptunestoast @ner5y @onimusha095 @picturejasper20 @randompony03 @rayofmisfortune @writing-forever @roxasbooth @rabid-mercenary16 @izzy-the-chaotic-gremlin @iguessimfished @bolt-finnikin-official @butlerbugbunny @ark-fork @schnee-gheist @thisiswasabis @arrtsy-ash @solhunder @pink-pkmn-trainer @gummy-axolotl @tailsbot98761 @mr-mangrove @sturdyyyyy

Even if some of you aren’t necessarily my friends I have interacted with you directly at least a couple times and so yes you came to mind on this day :>

I’m still like half asleep so I probably forgot some people but just know I appreciate ALL OF YOU 🫵 you’re all so amazing, even just the people I interact with like once in every five years, yes, you are amazing. Some of you I’ve only talked to like once in dms or in reblogs/comments but I still enjoy our interactions so I’m putting them up here