#also hi hello i love you too

[wispmotherr]

Shit man check this out get you some sick ass gloves. Be on that Tifa Lockhart shit

Better yet, go to a ren faire, buy some fucking gauntlets. Hand issues? Not anymore motherfucker, SLAP, now you're the vbitch with a +5 to unarmed strikes

Catholicism? Gurk me too but if you watch neon Gnesisi Evangelion you'll just think "oh that's like when Shinji did that" and it makes the guilt kind of stupid, it did for me

I've been drinking I'm not fixing this hi I love you

Someone call the Louvre, they need to make room for this masterpiece.

[raycatzdraws]

A Linked Universe meets The Dark Crystal AU! I don't even remember what started it at this point. I remembered that the Dark Crystal and Age of Resistance are things I like, blinked, and woke up three days later with an AU and a bunch of art.

The designs and the story are a wip and for fun so expect a lot of variation! (I have a few different beginnings, ideas for different designs, etc)! :D

In addition to #linked universe I'll be using the tags #the dark crystal lu au and #courage of the dark crystal!

[flowercrowngods]

@steddie-week

part 1 (bc this is one big 7 part story)

day 02: bittersweet & angst

1 new message

eddie The Problem munson: engagement party on saturday babyyyy 🥳🥸🕺

Steve’s been staring at the message for two days now. It's sitting in his notifications, staring at him like a painful reminder of what happened exactly seven days ago. A week. It's only been a week, and Steve somehow it feels like it was both only one day or seven months ago.

It's an almost liminal experience, walking through life without texting Eddie every second of the day – because texting him would mean opening his message. It would make this real.

And that's the last thing Steve wants.

"I'm not going," Robin declares as they're cuddling on the couch, wallowing in their misery as Mayday Parade's Oh Well, Oh Well is playing for the eighth time on repeat. "Tell me you're not going, Stevie."

"Robbie," he sighs, squeezing her tighter as she tries to wriggle out of his arms to glare at him.

"Steve."

"I can't not go."

"Yes you can." She pokes him in the ribs, but he doesn't budge. She pokes him again. "Not going to things is literally the easiest thing in the world. It's a hundred times easier than going to things. You should try it sometime, trust me. You go to too many things, and–"

"Bee," he hums to get her out of the rambling spiral before she can get lost in it.

"What I'm saying," he interrupts herself dramatically, "is that you can't do this to yourself. They're engaged. They're getting married. We're going to keep our distance until our brains and hearts and the traitorous little chemicals in our bodies catch up to reality, and then we get over them, and then we can go back and see them ever again. That's the logical thing to do, Steve. But you can't... You can't just go and get your heart broken and talk yourself into thinking it's the right thing to do. It's not."

Steve sighs into her hair and buries his face in her neck. He knows that. Technically, logically, he does.

But not going feels wrong. Wronger than anything else that's been hollowing out his chest and leaving nothing but emptiness and the ghosts of every smile, every touch, every baby, love, sweetheart, sunshine. Every imaginary future, every scenario where Eddie meant it. Meant those words, meant those smiles, meant it when he took Steve's hand to hold it.

But Eddie did mean it. Every time, he meant it; because he calls Argyle and Jeff and Gareth baby and sunshine and sweetheart, too. He takes their hands, too, leans in to kiss their cheeks and just holds them when he needs to. That's just the kind of person Eddie is. Always has been.

To go and assume he never meant it would be unfair.

To go and hope it could ever mean more when Chrissy has always been right there would just be stupid.

Well, good thing Steve has that kind of reputation with a few people anyway, so it's not even a statistical outlier, that one. It's not even worth a side note.

"I know," he rasps, his eyes beginning to sting as the next lyrics are carved into the empty space of where his heart used to be.

Oh well, oh well I can't live with myself As I'm climbing in your window to get to your bed.

And I'll be what you need, You can call me anything. Just as long as we're still friends.

Tears prickle in his eyes and he doesn't bother to hold them back. Not now, not with Robin. They've both been crying on and off all week, even though Robin took it better than him.

"I know," he sobs, wrapping his arms around her even tighter as she lets herself be held because she knows that's what he needs. "I know, I know, I know. But I have to. I can't just... I can't just stop, Bee."

"I know," she sighs, climbing out of his hold eventually to wrap her arms around him in return as he cries into her shoulder.

The world (read: his Spotify playlist) makes it worse by playing Sum 41's With Me next, ripping out even the newly carved words.

Robin holds him for the rest of the night, even as he finally opens Eddie's message and types out a reply.

—I'll come!

And especially when there's a new message immediately.

—hot 🥵❤️

He leaves Eddie on read after that.

~*~

Saturday rolls around in a haze, and suddenly Steve finds himself looking at the front door of the little house Chrissy inherited after her mother passed a few years ago. It's a nice little house. Quaint. Perfect. Everything Steve could ever dream of, actually. And she deserves it. All of this and more.

There's noise coming from the garden, where people are laughing and having a great time. A happy time, celebrating their friends and all the good things in life that come with a love well placed.

God, what is he doing here? He can't do this. There is no way.

He's just about to pull out his phone and call Robin, tell her he's coming home, or ask her to tell him everything's gonna be alright, when–

"Steve!" Chrissy hurries towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight, warm, perfect hug. God, he loves her so much. He melts right into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle to spin her around with a grin.

She giggles in delight and tells him to let her down again, which only makes him spin for another round, his grin turning into a genuine laugh.

"No, I hate you!" she laughs, but still doesn't step away from him when he puts her down again. Instead, she leans up and brushes a kiss to his cheek. "Hi, asshole."

"Hi."

He grins and takes her hands in his, just smiling at her for another moment before his eyes trail down to a ring he's never seen her wear before. Ah. Right.

"Oh shit! That it?"

"That's it," Chrissy says, looking down at her hand to look at the ring with a fond, happy little smile, her cheeks flushing red. It breaks Steve a little, but it also fixes something inside him to see her so truly, genuinely happy. "Pretty huh?"

"Very," Steve breathes, hiding the lump in his throat with a sound of awe.

Chrissy hugs him again for good measure and then takes his hand to drag him into the backyard the same way she just came out front, through a little gate off to the side instead of through the house.

Steve loves their backyard because it's always covered in sheerly endless colourful strings of light that are wrapped around decorative arches or poles, framing the back doors and the canopy swing set on the lawn, and just give it the most homey and comfortable atmosphere.

"Stevie!" Eddie exclaims immediately and jumps off from his chair, interrupting a conversation he's apparently been having with Argyle and Nancy to run up to him with such a giddy expression that Steve wants to cry. His heart leaps in his chest, coming back to life and saying one last goodbye at the same time.

"Hi," he says, hugging Eddie close before he can so much as think about what he's doing. But no matter how hurt he is, there will never be a world in which he won't want to hug Eddie Munson. "Sorry I'm late."

"No sorries, it's fine," Eddie murmurs into his neck, staying in the embrace endlessly, and Steve takes the chance to breathe him in. He smells so good. So, so good. It clogs his lungs and renders him unable to speak.

But who needs to speak when they have Eddie in their arms? Who needs to speak when all they have to do is never let go?

Eddie squeezes him a little tighter, and Steve wants to cry. He slowly, gently pushes away from the hug and turns towards the other guests, greeting them with a grin, a hug, or a handshake if they're not familiar.

When he gets to Wayne, the man eyes him with a look that Steve doesn't want to read too much, and his embrace is just a little longer, just a little stronger than usual.

“You look tired, son,” he says by way of greeting, and Steve can’t help but snort and shake his head a little.

“Good to see you again, too, old man.”

Wayne eyes him for one moment longer, then breaks into a small smile and pats Steve’s shoulder before stepping around him to go grab another drink.

After that, the night passes in a blur of talking to his friends, trying to understand what the hell it is that has Nancy and Argyle arguing so profusely, but with smiles on their faces. He fails. But it’s good to see them again, so he just basks in it for a while.

Or, he tries, because every second that he’s not talking or listening to someone, his eyes flick back to Eddie. Eddie, who’s lifting Chrissy from behind and smacking a loud, wet kiss to her neck, her jaw and her cheek, accompanied by her delighted squeals and laughter.

Eddie, who’s looking larger than life, a happy grin permanently plastered on his face as he reminds their guests that Chrissy was his bisexual awakening.

“I swear, she just swept me off my feet after years of thinking I was only into dudes. Knew I had to marry her, but man, I don’t know why she said yes.”

“I’m settling, honey,” Chrissy calls from the other end of the table they’re sitting around. “Only in it for that rockstar money and all.”

The whole table laughs at that.

“Hear, hear,” Eddie snorts, lifting his glass in a toast. Steve and the others lift theirs, too, even though Steve’s hand and arm and whole body feels numb and he’s not entirely sure he’s breathing.

A while later, he grabs a drink and retreats to the canopy swing, illuminated in the soft pink flow of the fairy lights wrapped around it. Eddie’s eyes land on him for a second and Steve thinks that he’ll come over and join him — but then one of Chrissy’s friends says something that distracts him and seemingly makes him fall into a monologue of sorts.

Steve watches, feeling only loss and longing as he does. Eddie is a force of nature. A spectacle. Something beautiful, something powerful, something secret that only a select few get to witness. To know. To appreciate.

Staring as he is, blind to the rest of the world, he startles a little when the swing jostles with another weight settling on it. He didn’t see Wayne coming to join him, and he’s not quite sure whether he should be grateful for the company or apprehensive of what the man who’s like a father to him might have to say.

“How are you doing, son?”

He frowns. “I’m alright.”

Wayne only hums, and Steve’s frown deepens. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him Wayne knows something. That he knows.

“Y’know,” he continues after a while, not looking at Steve but rather at his nephew and his fiancée. “I always figured it would be you.”

Steve crumbles. Yeah, me too, he wants to say, but that would be a lie. Watching the way Chrissy sits on Eddie’s lap with his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder as he tells her something that makes her laugh that cute, pretty, adorable laugh that Eddie then can’t help but join — that’s just something Steve would never compare to. Nothing he’d ever want to come in between.

Eddie and Chrissy are perfect. They’re happy. They fit, they match, they work. They worked so hard and treat each other so right.

They look giddy and serene at the same time, and it makes Steve’s eyes sting. Because he can never make Eddie look like that. He can never make Eddie look at him like that.

I always figured it would be you.

But he couldn’t. That bubbly kind of love, the sunshine kind of love. He knows that’s not for him. Steve’s too much for that. He would never be enough for Eddie — even if without Eddie, there’s nothing left of him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Wayne continues, unaware of Steve’s thought spiral. “I love that girl, I do. Always will. I think she’s too good for Eddie. Don’t tell him I said that,” he adds hastily, and Steve smiles through the tears that threaten to fall again.

“They’re perfect,” he rasps, laughing wetly as Chrissy starts chasing Eddie, who’s hiding behind a very distressed Argyle, who just wants his brochachos to chill!

Maybe it’s a laugh, maybe it’s a sob. He doesn’t have it in him to find out or care.

“They are. Doesn’t mean they’re right, son.”

Steve sighs and tears his eyes away from Eddie. “Wayne.”

“I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “Shutting up.” After a long pause of holding Steve’s eyes, he asks, “Will you be okay?”

No, he thinks immediately, the lump in his throat too big to say anything. So he just shrugs and swallows. “Sure.”

Maybe. Hardly. Probably not. Definitely not.

"No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me. You’ll always have a home with an open door with me, you hear me?"

"I’m not going anywhere, wayne," Steve says, though for the first time ever he doesn't really believe that. Maybe he needs to leave. To leave Eddie behind. Get over him. Cut out his heart and leave it here, run away to heal somewhere else, come back as a new person, or just stay away forever.

The thought makes a tear spill as an empty kind of desperation spreads it’s ugly wings inside his chest, and he's too frozen to wipe it away.

"You hear me?" Wayne repeats, gentler this time, but no less urgent for it.

"Yeah," steve rasps. "Thanks."

Another tear falls as Eddie gently pulls Chrissy closer to him and kisses her in the soft glow of the fairy lights above and around them. Their friends cheer. Steve wants to cry his heart out again.

“I—“ he swallows, wiping at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I can’t do this, he wants to say. For the first time, that’s what he wants to say. “I think I’m gonna head home soon.”

“You bring your car?”

He shakes his head, feeling foggy and dazed and empty and endlessly, endlessly sad. “Was gonna, uh—“

“Let me drive you.” There’s no room for debate or argument there, and Steve wants to crumble again, but still he shakes his head.

“Wayne, no—“

“I’m taking you, son. Make sure you get home safe, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Don’t wanna keep your old man up all night, do ya?”

Steve concedes with a fond eye roll and a grateful smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They sit like that for another ten minutes — and if Steve leans into Wayne’s side a little, then that’s nobody’s business but theirs.

The car ride is quiet, but it feels weighted even as Wayne pretends not to see the way Steve keeps wiping at his cheeks as the silent tears keep falling, leaving him powerless to stop them.

I can’t do this, he keeps thinking over and over again.

“Just a little warning,” Wayne speaks up again as he pulls up to Steve’s building. “I think he’s going to ask you to be his best man, Stevie. Don’t do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”

I can’t do this.

He nods, numb again.

“I’ll do anything for him,” he breathes.

“That’s what I’m afraid of, yeah.”

He gets out of the car before he can find out what exactly Wayne means by that. The car stays where it is until the front door closes behind him, until he’s up in his bedroom and finds Robin already asleep.

Ten minutes later, he cuddles close to her and tries hard not to cry, but tonight’s memories have burned themselves into his mind. And he shouldn’t have gone. He knows. He knows.

I’ll do anything. I can’t do this. I’ll do anything. I can’t do this.

He can’t breathe, and Robin holds him through it, whispering sleepily to him as he cries himself to sleep, wishing for a world where he’s not absolutely and utterly in love with Eddie Munson, but failing to imagine one.

I’ll do anything. Anything but this.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen come back tomorrow for idk which prompt | read part 3 here

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Master manipulator vs Master manipulator

 [First] Prev <–-> Next

[puppyeared]

The garment, worn by those in good standing with Hyrule royalty, has been reworked with the latest improvements, such as a new shoulder guard.

[akai-anna]

Hello there, dear @itsokaytomakemosstakes!

I was your assigned gift maker for the @dcmk-exchange event!

Ever since you shared your lovely mugs with me, the thought that Ran would get them as a matching kitty set for herself and Conan, wouldn't leave me alone. So I decided to embrace the idea; for both the headcanon and the personal touch.

Originally I planned something more silly, but the soothing vibes of my first sketch were just so lovely, I went with this instead (especially since I thought you might appreciate a bit of peace).

I hope you'll like this, and I really have enjoyed chatting with you, Moss!

[cubbihue]

TELL US ABOUT HUEY

HSKADHSBAD!! I MUST ADMIT. HUEY'S. huey's originally a minecraft oc 😔✊ I just like porting him into every fandom I get into...

Hey's just a silleyyy guyy!! ("What's wrong with you??" "LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS!!")

(have some old art of my boy)

Dying again and again is Huey's favorite pass time!! So is killing god. Or sleeping with God. Either or.

In FOP, he's just as bonkers. Huey's been exiled several times from both Anti-Fairy world and Fairyworld. But he. Keeps coming back. He loves provoking other Fairies and triggering Magic build up in them and himself. Huey's explosive with magic!! Can't seem to do any magic properly but doesn't really care to.

He likes it when Magic builds up and then goes wrong!!! It feels funny to him. Like firecrackers!!!! He wants other fairies to feel that feeling (very bad). Just some. silleyyy guy.

Nobody knows what happened to his fairy counterpart.

[moeblob]

You literally spent three hours having an ENTIRE SCHOOL (teachers included) slut-shaming a guy just for him to be a (spoiler).

[bericas]

isaac & scott / mason & theo | sometimes all i think about is you

[crystallizsch]

a thunderstorm woke me up and now my veins are running on pure caffeine and (unfortunately) i have jamil on the mind.

so now i'm thinking about what if yuu has an extreme fear of thunder

imagine there's a thunderstorm in the middle of the night.

you've just been weirdly anxious, and when jamil inquired, you begrudgingly admit that you're afraid of thunder.

it's embarrassing. why would you be scared of thunder, they're just loud sounds. it’ll pass.

jamil had to stop himself from making a judgmental remark. even if jokingly.

he’s deathly afraid of bugs, he literally has no place to make fun of you for it.

at least with bugs you can get rid of them, but you can’t just fight the weather unless you’re a powerful mage.

so the least jamil can do is to comfort you.

maybe listening to music sharing headphones.

or make you focus on his voice instead so you don’t pay attention to the loud noises. either by chatting or reading a book together.

of course, maybe he could also use snake whisper on you so your mind would effortlessly cease those fears.

jamil would if you asked. but he’s not going to offer it himself.

(besides, it’s a bit weird if he’s using his unique magic on you again, considering whatever your relationship is at this point.)

and it’s not like that idea would even cross your mind when all you could think about was the agonizing dread of oncoming thunder.

plus it kinda sounds crazy knowingly asking someone to put you under mind control.

every time thunder boomed you found yourself clinging to jamil's clothes. burying your face in his chest. as if you were holding onto him for dear life.

he'd laugh if he knew you weren't deathly afraid of it. so he'd make soothing gestures instead.

the thunder was still unbearable, but eventually you found comfort in jamil’s warmth.

it really helped to drown it out. at least mostly.

this seemed to be a better outcome anyway than forcing you to just forget about it.

and it would’ve been easier, sure. but how many times could you get the chance to cozy up to jamil

and on the other hand, jamil kinda wanted this moment to last. how many times could he have an excuse for "relaxing" with you.

as much as it makes you suffer, him wanting this moment to last longer meant wishing for the thunderstorm to last longer as well.

jamil hopes you can forgive him for being selfish in that regard.

[lethality-of-dual-strike]

perirep drawings I also have on my Twitter - lil thing I’ve been working on and off where Dev wishes that Peri and Irep would switch places so they’d understand each other better, before everything derails into madness

really just an excuse to make fairy irep and anti-fairy peri teehee

[v8mpvrse]

my theory for eddie’s arc in s8:

so i think by now we’ve all picked up on the fact this man needs severe therapy! jokes aside i really think chris leaving BECAUSE of him will be the final straw and eddie this time will be going to therapy and sticking to it, similar to s5 where he told frank he also went for chris yk.

so he goes to therapy to work out the root of how he’s the “problem” and how he’s “broken” and he yk goes through the history of his failed romantic relationships and at one point frank picks up on the catholic guilt. and similar to when maddie went to frank for doug and he sent her to big bear, frank tells eddie to go to a church. because the church STILL holds so much power over eddie’s decisions and how he views things and even who he is and what parts he ignores. which would fit in the eddie realizing he’s gay storyline perfectly bc ofc he would repress that shit HE COULDNT HAVE SEX WITH HIS GF AFTER FINDING OUT SHE WAS A NUN. “reservoir of catholic guilt” hmmmmm interesting….. like i’m also pretty sure he went to catholic school?

so like latino catholic in texas who went to catholic school, teen dad who married his first gf (bc he got her pregnant) bc of the church, whose been told since he was a CHILD to be “man enough”, who served in the military. CMON. HELLO. he could never at any point explore and figure out WHO he was. he was ALWAYS given a title. needs to be man enough. is a father. is a husband. is a solider. is a single father. is a firefighter. those are his roles and he STICKS BY THEM CANT BE ANYTHING ELSE. BC HE IS A DAD FIRST but now with chris gone he’s all alone. again. and for real this time. and he has to learn who he is. who is eddie diaz. not the father, the solider or the firefighter. who. is. eddie. diaz.

point being early special thanks to frank the therapist and firework priest 🙏 yall doing the lords work ironically enough LMFAO

[wexhappyxfew]

"Hello, love! Could you please write from seeking out physical affection”, specifically comparing hand sizes, holding their hands against each other's, and then just holding hands” Could you also add a kiss on the cheek? For Judy and Rosie.

Tarzan and Jane vibes!

P.S Resending this, because I forgot to say that it is for Judy and Rosie 😆

Love you ❤️

AH HELLO!!!!! thank you so so much for sending this in! both you and @archival-hogwash sent in Judy x Rosie for this AND the same prompt so i hope you *both* enjoy this one!!!! i certainly had a GREAT time writing this, as i haven't done judy x rosie in what feels like AGES!!!!! SO!!! this is probably one of my favorite things for judy and rosie because we really get into their connection on multiple levels, along with their emotions and a piece purely focused on them. i would say this is purely self-indulgent on my part haha! so, i truly hope you enjoy! <3 THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN BOTH OF YOU!! :D

know it's you

(a/n): to the judy x rosie girlies, your joy and support and love for this duo has truly transcended, and so this piece is for you! judy rybinski is an OC i hold incredibly near and dear to my heart and it seems she's made quite the impact as well. plus - her and rosie make my heart melt and there's a whole lot of that here. so please, truly, enjoy! :) definitely love the jane/tarzan vibes in the gifs too hehe - that's so them in ways!!! AND -- to the judy anons earlier talking and asking about judy's past, we see a bit of why that is important to her character right here! ps — there’s some intimacy here but nothing super intense past that! just incase there are some not interested parties!

The barracks were much emptier these days - it still housed the Silver Bullets group, but with them 40% down their normal crew, which was now dispersed halfway across continental Europe, with the other 60% obtaining various positions in the air and on base - quiet was the new normal.

It was an off day and Judy hadn't been one to complain - they'd been doing missions and training relentlessly for days and by this point, to say the exhaustion wasn't getting to her would be a whole other level of lying lunacy. She'd had dinner with the rest of the girls - Dougie joining in beside Carrie because ever since they'd seemed to silently make it official between them, they'd been attached at the hip when they didn't have to be apart.

By that point, everyone else had gone out to the flying club, but Judy wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and read the rest of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - she'd gotten close to the part with the love confession - she could feel it.

Freshly showered, hair nearly dry as it clung to her nightshirt and neck, she sat crossed-legged sideways on her bed, back leaned up against the wall of the barracks, listening to the silent hum of all the bugs outside, the crackle of voices somewhere in the distance and the hum of the lantern light turned on beside her.

If this was peace, she never wanted to let go of it.

It was almost a weird comfort that reminded her of training days - first getting the group of women together when Birdie had called on a crew. Meeting the girls, hanging out late into their off-day nights, talking, hearing peoples' stories and backgrounds and family history. By that point, Judy had taken to wearing her PT shorts to bed with one of the pale wool button-ups that Birdie had requested for the crew. Now, cuddled with her blanket, her button-up and her book, she was as happy as a damn lark. A gentle knock came from the door.

"You in there, Judy?" the voice called through. The corner of Judy's lip drew upwards.

"Who's asking?" She knew. She always did. She grinned wider.

"Who do you think?" the voice called back, a slight chuckle on their lips.

"I don't know…."Judy called back, "kinda hard to distinguish entirely with a wooden door breaking up the noise." She heard the laugh behind the door and couldn't help but take a split-second to brush her lose strands of hair behind her ears and rub a bit underneath her eyes, hoping the dark circles weren't as big as they had been earlier.

"Am I good to come in?"

"All clear." Judy called back. The door slowly pushed open and Judy couldn't help but feel her heart spin a bit out of control at the sight of Rosie Rosenthal stepping inside, crusher cap perched on his head, layered in his A2 and button-up, that look on his face that was a mixture of soft worry and concern all at once.

"Hi." Judy said, watching as he shut the barrack door behind him, waltzing over towards her with that silent look on his face and lips.

"Hey." he said back, pulling over one of the chairs from a table and placing it beside her cot and settling himself into the chair comfortably before leaning forward, "You doing okay? Didn't see you at the officers' club." She could feel the tension in her shoulders slowly unknotting at his worrying question, watching him peel off the A2 and crusher cap; it only took her a matter of seconds to slowly nod, a small smile on her face as she tilted her head.

"Yes," she said quietly, "just didn't feel up for being out tonight, I'll be honest. What about you though?" Rosie watched her as she let her eyes gently draw over his entire face, taking in each aspect of his eyes, his cheeks, his lips that made her feel all over the place on the inside. He grinned.

"Well, I'm glad you're here then," he said quietly with a nod, "sometimes you need a night away." She grinned. "I was at the officers' club. But, I don't know….didn't feel up for being out tonight. Wanted to come and see what you were up to." Judy let out a laugh and gently closed her book and leaned towards him over her crossed legs with a smile.

"Thanks for joining me then," Judy said, "can't promise to be as much entertainment as Dougie thinking he can dance, but….I can tell some pretty good campfire stories around the potbelly stove, I must admit." Rosie chuckled at her words, before looking up at her with a quiet look on his face, blue eyes watching her intently.

Rosie Rosenthal was like that though - he knew there was more behind it. He always did and with the way his mood had shifted, she knew in an instance that he'd been worrying for her longer than just the past hour when he came to see her. He could be in the flying club with the rest of the crews, drinking, having a grand old time, but instead he was here. With her.

"Just you here?" Rosie asked her, a slight tinge of concern in his voice and Judy nodded.

"It's okay," Judy said, looking down at her nails and picking at the edges of them with a shrug, "the other girls needed a night and I just wasn't feeling it. Didn't want them to miss out though. And sometimes just being here is what I need." Judy nodded towards the four usually empty and fresh-made cots. "Sometimes it's like they're here, ya know?"

They glanced towards the footlockers and cots across from Judy - mainly at the end of what was still Lieutenant Bradshaw's cot. Francis generally didn't allow anyone to touch it, open it, hardly even look at it. She always told people that they were coming back - if there was no word on any of the missing members of Silver Bullets or their bodies - they weren't dead. It'd be there until they got back. And Judy always believed Francis, she always did.

Judy couldn't help but feel her emotions wrangle with her heart as she stared at those four lone footlockers, untouched for months, cots forever-made on that last morning they'd been here.

The chair screeched slightly closer and she felt warmth overwhelm her hands, Rosie's large palms taking her small fists into his own hands, the nerves and tension immediately seeming to dissipate. Looking back towards him, she couldn't help but feel a small smile grow on her face, his face inches from her own.

"They're still out there," Rosie whispered quietly, his thumb running circles underneath the knuckles on her left hand, "I know that." Judy slowly nodded, knowing her words would fail her if she tried to talk. Rosie seemed to catch that in a matter of seconds and let out a deep breath.

"Tell me about what you were reading," he said quietly, nearly therapeutically, "that's a good one."

"You've read it?"

"I have." Rosie said, his voice a soothing sound to her ears, "When you have sisters, they convince you to read books like that." Judy gave him a look and he chuckled. "Didn't complain, I promise." Judy laughed lightly, eyes growing soft at his gaze on her as she smiled lazily.

"Mr. Darcy has just confessed his love for Elizabeth Bennet." Judy said quietly, retracting one of her hands to reach up and brush her fingers past some of his lose curls near his forehead, smiling slightly at the chill racing across his body underneath her touch, the way his eyes shut slightly and a small breath left his lips, "I would say it didn't entirely go as planned, but it has been one of my favorite things to read, I must say."

"You think it's a good book so far?" he asked her quietly, and she nodded, hand continuing to slowly careen back and forth over those few curls on his forehead.

"It blows some other books I've read out of the water." she said and she watched as he grinned, his eyes refusing to leave hers as he continued to watch her, the two of them falling into silence.

Watching each other in this quiet way was far more intimate than anything else she'd experienced in life and she hadn't experienced much. Her hand running through his hair, his hands holding her other, inches from each other's faces. Inches.

They each seemed to linger closer to one another, their eyes holding one another's gazes and she found herself welcoming his touch up onto her neck, the warmth making her whole body feel as if it were on fire.

It was always this.

Never touching this way, but still going to an extent before they'd back away. But now, they were alone and it was a warm, spring night and it was different; she wanted to feel something different than grief and loss.

Feeling his fingers grow up her neck towards her cheeks, her eyes shut at his touch; it was a little crazy to think about how close they were, his touch on her neck and face, breath fanning across her face. Maybe this crush wasn't as stupid as she had thought it to be. She was scared to open her eyes that had since closed and look at him, feeling his continual warm breath inches from her lips.

Kiss me, her voice seemed to whisper inside her head, please kiss me. His thumb brushed her warm cheek and she shivered a bit at the touch.

"You're shaking." Rosie whispered, and she shivered again, her heart racing inside her chest. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't do it.

"You make me nervous." she whispered back, her voice sounding light, almost like she was floating. Slowly, she opened her eyes - he was right there. He was so close, staring at her face like she was staring at something holy. His eyes were beautiful so close to her face, deep and caring and full. She had never been touched by someone like him, cared for, held and loved by.

"May I kiss you?" he whispered, his own voice sounding strained, "Please?"

"Please do." she whispered and it was in what felt like milliseconds where she was engulfed by him. His arms wrapped around her back, pulling her into him, his lips pressing earnestly against her own, her body snaking into his lap on the chair and her hands crawling into his hair and messing up those curls that were so perfectly done day in and day out.

Judy melted into him, his hands going up her back into her neckline, her body hot all over the place it felt as he tugged at her bottom lip, a small sigh escaping as she pressed her lips back to his.

It was such a quick-paced and desperate array of kisses - something she had never even experienced in her life. Rosie made a noise at the back of his throat, which made Judy pull back for a second, almost caught off guard - she'd never done this before, what was she even doing - were her hands in the right place? Could she even kiss well enough for it to be worth it? Did it mean anything? For him? For her? For them?

"Hey, you okay?" managed Rosie, trying to catch his breath, his lips a deep red - she realized she'd been sucking a bit on his bottom lip - his cheeks an equally similar color.

"Yeah, yeah," Judy said, her body clinging onto him with her arms and legs latched around his frame, "fine, this….wow."

Words, Judy, words.

It was so intimate to be so close to his face, almost like it was some secret thing no one had ever gotten the pleasure of doing before. She stared at him and watched as he licked his lips and glanced at her lips.

"Just…." Judy started as he watched her, his hands softly clinging to her back, his fingertips sending sparks along the fabric atop her skin, "I…..I've never been like this with someone."

"Like this?" Rosie whispered back, reaching up a hand to clutch at her cheek, brushing her flaming skin and smiling. Judy nodded.

"This….close." Judy whispered, "But for the first time in my life, I trust someone to be like this with." Rosie stared at her, a tender look on his face.

"I feel safe with you." Judy said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Rosie continued to watch her and then smiled.

"Thank you." he whispered softly back, "I feel safe with you, too." Judy felt her heart skip a beat - multiple beats if anything - and smiled.

Within seconds of such a thing to say, Judy was kissing him, wrapping her body around him, pulling her hands up through his hair, every part of her body feeling her heart continuing to race faster and faster.

There was a deep-seeded need, but gentleness that came with his touch to her lips, the exhaustion of the day ever-present, but the want to feel showing in ways she couldn't quite understand as he deepened the kiss there in front of the fire. He slowly bit at her bottom lip as they parted, the two of them shaking, deep labored breaths escaping their lips as Judy slowly looked upwards towards Rosie, staring at his eyes in the quiet darkness that evaded nearly all the light. Judy's hands slowly moved down from his hair to his olive button-up, her fingertips dancing on the buttons.

"Do it." Rosie whispered, his breathing heavy, "It's yours." Just those words seemed to flip a switch in her head as she slowly, button by button undid both the shirt and him.

As she came to the bottom, his bare chest began to show and she slowly let her hands move towards his shoulders, peeling the fabric from his form, down his arms and to the ground. Her body was on fire, as she looked back up towards him, staring at her with those darkened blue eyes that made her go slightly insane. His hands lingered on her waist, hers on his now bare arms, their bated breath held for a moment as they watched one another.

Every movement made her want more, every look, every touch.

Everything made her live with want. Her hands slowly trailed down to his own hands, which felt like they were equally on fire, and she slowly guided them to the front of her wool button-up.

"Judy…." Rosie whispered. She slowly looked up and met his firm gaze and she sucked in a breath. It was so insanely attractive to her to know he was looking at her like this. She leaned slightly closer, still holding his hands to the buttons and watched his gaze.

"Will you help me?" she whispered.

"Yes." Rosie said, almost without any hesitation and immediately began unbuttoning her top, her heart pounding, the need growing.

As soon as the button on the bottom was undone, the top slid off her shoulders to expose her bare chest - and if she was honest, her rather sorry-excuse of a bra - his lips were pressing on her own and goosebumps danced over her skin at the slightly cool air and his touch. His lips were so gentle and soft, placed there on her own, a distant hunger behind each deepening of touch that made her crave more.

Taking in a shuddering breath, his lips moved to a tender spot on her neck and a small noise in the back of her throat escaped - it was almost so light-hearted as Rosie pulled back and softly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and chuckled that soft, breathy laugh.

"You okay?" he whispered and she looked to him, a smile on her breathless face as she looked at him.

"Yeah," she whispered shakily, "yeah. Wow." Rosie smiled at her through the darkness before slowly leaning forward and bringing her into another kiss, him biting her lip, a groan from the back of his throat and a whimper from her own mouth.

The slight grind of his body against hers was making it much harder to just focus on him and his lips. He was kissing her neck again, his lips exploring the whole of her neck, arching down to her collarbone as her eyes shut and far too many pleasant thoughts entered her brain. She was unbecoming in front of him, as he clung to her in a God-like way.

Slowly, Rosie shifted, clutching her to him and moving her to the cot, the blanket soft on her back as he laid her there and then pressed down onto her, his larger form a comforting weight there on top of her.

God, if someone walked in now, what would she say?

But, it was Rosie.

With Rosie, she was safe.

Rosie sucked on her neck, before pulling back for a second, his entire body shuttering as he looked towards her and then smiled, hovering overtop of her and softly kissing her forehead.

"You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met." he whispered softly, eyes honest, almost like he spoke and got choked up in the middle and recovered.

"Thank you." she whispered back, her own throat choking up as she stared at him, the light from the lantern tickling his features, making his face a honey gold.

No one ever had told her such things, touching her and holding her as gently as he had, caring for her like he did. Rosie smiled and then Judy followed, a giggle along with it. Then, they were kissing, their bodies pressed against each other again.

At some point, his lips were on her collarbone and her lips had traversed his face and neck and then they were curled into each other's bodies, as he traced her bare back with a warm finger and she stared at his soft, cuddly face that she planted a kiss to every so often.

Rosie Rosenthal was shy when he wanted to be, but he was nowhere shy about where he wanted to put his hands and mouth.

But in this moment, quiet and intimate, all she could do was watch him.

"I'll admit, I've never been like this with someone," she whispered quietly as his light finger touch sent chills down her spine, "I'm sorry if my kissing didn't offer much." Rosie watched her and then shook his head with a playful scoff, and continued tracing her back.

"Don't say that," Rosie whispered quietly and then brought his lips to her ear, "your lips were reverent."

Judy could feel her body get hot just at his words and slowly turned to look at him as they lied there under the blanket. Her heart pounded as her cheeks grew hot, staring at his devastatingly handsome face watch her right back, like he could see all of her - which in ways, he definitely could.

She leaned forward and captured his lips again in hers, hungrily deepening the kiss, both their lips red and swollen as she bit down tenderly and a groan filled his mouth. She was sinking underneath him as he deepened the kiss against her lips this time. His warm hands were dancing across her bare-skinned chest and eventually reached the waistline of her shorts.

And the second she felt a finger on her waistline, her entire body grew cold and froze. She stopped kissing him, her lips growing shut, her eyes blasted wide-open and her shoulders immediately tense. Rosie pulled back in an instant, his hands on her cheeks gently, his own eyes open above her, worry pooling in his blue eyes as he looked down.

"You okay, Judy?" he whispered quietly, slightly out of breath, "We can stop." Judy looked at him, her eyes suddenly filling with tears she hadn't quite expected.

She didn't want to cry, why was she crying. No, no, no.

"Oh, hey, hey, c'mere." Judy put a hand over her mouth, Rosie coming off the top of her, reaching over the edge of the bed to grab his collared button-up. As tears grew down her cheeks, Rosie gently guided her arms into the long sleeves of his button-up, pulling it overtop her bare shoulders, before slowly buttoning it up, button by button.

"C'mere, Judy." Rosie whispered quietly, positioning himself sitting up against the pillows on the cot, allowing her to curl into his body, head snuggled against his bare chest, comforted by his presence, the scent of his shirt that always smelled like that pleasant cologne he always wore, and the quietness of the world surrounding them, "You okay, Jude?"

Whenever he kept repeating her name, it always brought her back, it allowed her to ground herself and think and keep her mind clear. Because it usually meant he was trying to get through to her and calm her down. And it always worked.

Judy could feel his hand around her waist, his other hand gently brushing through her hair, over and over in the most soothing manner. A mixture of embarrassment and guilt hit her in that moment curled beside him.

Would he think that he'd done something wrong?

Would he not like her because she couldn't do it?

Whatever it really was?

Would he think she was too inexperienced and naive?

Would he-?

"I'm sorry," she whispered out against his chest, the tears continuing to well in her eyes as she let out a shaky breath, "I just….it's me."

"No, no, it's okay," Rosie whispered quietly above her, gently pressing a kiss to her head - she could hear the smile in his voice, "it's okay." Judy snuggled closer into him and let out another shaky sigh.

"I'm not ready," she whispered through tears, "to do that yet. I'm sorry."

"No, no," Rosie said quietly - quickly, "don't apologize. You don't have to apologize to me, okay? Or…better yet, at all. You're ready when you're ready and if it's not yet, that's okay." Judy slowly peaked up at him, red-rimmed eyes, her nose probably getting drippy, looking far less unpleasant than she had earlier.

"Are you sure?" she asked him quietly and he gave her the sweetest smile she'd ever seen.

"I am." he said quietly, reaching up to brush at some tears on her cheeks, "I just want to be with you, Judy, that's all. In anyway I can." Her heart released the tension it had held for a brief moment and she nodded, a small smile peaking out.

"There's that grin," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her forehead this time, "there it is." Judy smiled wider and couldn't help but press closer to him, trying to gain access to every part of him there, curled into him in anyway she could. In a quick second though - she came quickly to the realization of what had just occurred and looked up at him.

Kissing him, kissing Rosie Rosenthal, kissing him the way she had and him kissing her back with just as much desperation as she did to him.

"That was my first kiss." Judy whispered quietly, staring out in front of them, towards where the sun had finally set out that little window, "My first….anything like that."

Maybe Judy should've held off saying that because Rosie froze there beside her, the hand on her hair going still, the hand on her waist tightening. She slowly peaked up at him and saw him watching her, a mixture of worry and concern mixed in his eyes and maybe a slight bit of nervousness that wasn't there before? She sat up a bit, and reached forward with her free hand that wasn't tucked against her body and lightly brushed her fingers against his face, smiling automatically, his own grin growing on his face afterwards.

"I'm…quite honored to be your first, Judy." he said quietly, the nervousness in his voice probably one of the cutest things she'd heard in a while, "Firsts are always special, so…."

"You always make everything special for me, you know that?" she said quietly, tilting her head against him, "That was really special though. Truly." Rosie watched her with that soft grin and she couldn't help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, the quickness of the familiarity of his lips almost insane to her - that her body could so instantly store in her mind the touch and feel of his lips just like that, his presence, his touch, him. Pulling back slightly, she watched him.

"Even if my first didn't…..go all the way, I guess." she said.

A few years ago, she remembered when all the towns girls would talk about their firsts - she remembered some were even getting married or having their first born! And there'd been Judy, waiting and waiting. Feeling left behind, embarrassed, too quiet not to say anything, too much of an outlier to say that she felt she was behind in the first place.

In her mind, she knew she was being too hard on herself, but it was something about her past few years that did it to her. But Rosie was stopping that and telling her there was no rush - he just wanted to be there. With her. And that was more important than anything.

"It doesn't have to," Rosie said quietly, cupping her cheek and smiling tenderly, "it doesn't need to. It's whatever you want it to be. And to even just….know it's you…." Judy watched him, eyes darting back and forth between his eyes as her cheeks slowly heated, despite the realization she'd been heavily making out with him moments earlier. He'd probably always have that effect on her.

"Know it's me?" she whispered. Rosie smiled, lovingly running his hand back through her hair before coming to dote underneath her chin, raising it up gently and pressing a kiss to her lips.

"Yes." he said quietly.

"What does that mean?" He watched her and grinned again.

"Ask me again in a few months." he whispered back to her, pressing another kiss to her forehead, making her feel all warm and fuzzy. Slowly, he held up his hand and she reached out her own hand to press against his - she giggled.

"Your hand is so big, Rosie, God," she said with a laugh, hearing his chuckle from somewhere above her, "mine is so tiny."

"It's cute." he whispered quietly, clasping his fingers around her hand, holding it there against his chest.

Staring at their intertwined hands against his chest, an aggressive feeling for him suddenly took shape and she realized how quick it was that it was in fact the feeling of genuine love.

Affection.

Adoration.

Love. For someone like him. For every part of him in every way.

Judy looked up at him, meeting his gaze again there in the lantern light and couldn't help it as she leaned towards him and lovingly pressed a kiss to his lips that slowly got deepened and rather emotional and slow and infused with a tenderness that she'd never felt before. It was slow movements, their heads and lips moving in unison, breaking every so often for a collection of air, before connecting again, their noses brushing, bits of laughter escaping every so often. Judy couldn't help but laugh at how ticklish his mustache was against her upper lip. It was all so gentle and peaceful - she had never felt so at peace with someone like this.

"If one of the girls came in now…."Judy whispered, before breaking into a laugh, "I'd probably never live it down." Rosie let out a small chuckle and shook his head against her softly, before pressing another kiss to her lips.

"You're something else, Judy Rybinski," he said quietly, eyes meeting hers again and she couldn't help but swell with emotion, "ever since I met you. Something special."

[juustozzi]

So I will carry you, until you'll carry me

[thebestusernamepossible]

‘We need more morally gray women’ you can’t even handle Ceroba from Undertale Yellow

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3