#edd sweatshirt

[tntummin]

Thursday Night Tummin' || ATOMic Challenge

Wait, who's world is it again?

Oh, right, heh... Tomsworld. No, of course I knew that, what are you talking about?

Yeah, seems like just about every one of these types of things has to have this kind of challenge where you go up against a sweatshirt-wearing twink and his gang of friends, consisting of an alcoholic tsundere and self-absorbed himbo...

What? Of course that description's universal!

Uhm, wait, where was I? Oh, right, "Hey what's up, what's you name, my name is Edd, Edd!"... Or something.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Special credits to @friendlyfox34 for being my Girlfriend. :)

[ededdneddy-artrefs]

[rockeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

updated darstry height chart + some design changes

[cosmic--marmalade]

Gormenghast Body

A/N: I'm feeling too lazy to format this proper, or tag it proper. It's Hurt/comfort

Neurodivergent!Jon hasn't figured out a healthy way to cope with being overstimmed yet and almost has a panic attack/full blown meltdown. Eddie helps.

Being intentionally unteatherd from ones body, from needing to TendCareForceUsefullness for it, is a delicate process when done on purpose. He knows this, knows it helps even, but pushes the urge to ask as far down as he can make to go. As a result he floats away from himself at the most inconvenient of moments.

He's aware that they're all in the middle of dinner, while he's stuck looking up from the bottom of a swimming pool. Watching everything and everyone move around him, too far away too care

The music of the restaurant is distant, warbling through his watery mind sluggishly. He nods, a quick jut of the chin at a question someone asks him (he has no idea what the fuck it was, but the silent response must have been enough because no one is looking at him now), and he cannot feel it. The world is a never ending loop of BrightnessDarkness, rippling in his vision. Colors, shapes, distant rumbles of laughter all dulled by his disconnect, shades away from his physical body.

It'd be pleasant if he felt like he could breathe. He has no idea how long he's been holding his breath for, letting it out in a long gust of a BubbledAir.

"That was a big sigh." The voice next to him cuts so clear that Mox is totally back before he even finishes blinking. Fresh out of the pool startled, Eddie looking at him like he was drowning.

He might have been.

Mox shrugs, sinking in to his sweatshirt, pretending he didn't forget how to breathe. Like the obnoxious din of the restuarant wasn't grating on every freshly soaked nerve he has. Like he didn't not want to be here.

He can see the way Eddie had already pushed past his bullshit. Past the QuietSurfaceTired, right into that thrumming pool pump of anxiety in his chest.

He can't stop the way his leg bounces as he orients himself to the real world again, even as he tries to stop. But his skin's too tight, and silverware's too light in his hand, and his leg fuckin bounces along of its own will.

Eyefluttering, breathholding, pure fucking chlorine soaked Mox chances a glance at Eddie. Which was the wrong thing to do.

Maybe.

He's so jumbled up and weary that he doesn't know what the face Eddie is making means. Maybe it means he's mad.

Jon really fucking hopes he's not mad.

"Hey, I think we're good for tonight. Exhusted as shit-" Protests ring out from around the table, the cacophony of disappointment sits heavy in Mox's chest. "Nope, nah, don't want to hear it. If any of you motherfuckers want to sleep your hangovers off in the car tomorrow you're gonna let us-" Jon tries so so hard not to jump out of his skin as Eddie's hand connects with his chest. "Sit your dumbassery out."

He has no idea if Eddie pays, or it's for both of them, he waves a short goodbye over his shoulder but couldn't tell you who was sat at that table if his life depended on it.

He's all swim tired, head too light, and legs almost shaking as Eddie walks them back to the hotel. For summer the night is almost bitingly cold, must be the wind.

Yeah, the wind.

He's a pace or two behind Eddie, who is walking more slow, cautiously, than he usually does.

He's mad.

He has to be mad. Jon ignores the tightness at his throat.

He's breathing. It means nothing.

The hotel lobby is brighter than a football field, and the elevator is the same. Eddie doesn't protest or grumble as Jon pushes his body into his space. Or when he tucks his face into the crook of Eddie's neck. Just lays a heavy hand on his nape, thumb pressing soft circles into the skin.

Doing what he always does, feels obligated to do.

Jon wants to crawl out of his skin, he doesn't fucking deserve it. Not one bit. Not at all. Not when he definitely ruined the night.

He's not certain when they got to the hotel room, just knows because Eddie has to pry his StupidNeedyUseless frame off of his to open the door.

He follows Eddie in, trembling, as most of the lights are flicked low or off. The dimness of the room is warm, inviting, a fucking relief really.

"Hey, c'mere." Eddie wraps Jon up in an embrace, to soften the blow of the scolding that's sure to come. Has to be.

"Whoa hey, what the fuck? What you crying for? Thought you wanted to get outta there, looked like you were gonna float away if you didn't." Eddie wipes the tears from Jon's face with a tenderness that he can't quite wrap his brain around. When did he start crying?

He opens his mouth to try to say something, anything, and- and-

"You're not mad?" It's a pathetic, watery question, rasped out from the deepest part of his fear. He catches sight of some slouched, teary, shaking twentysomething in the reflection of the bedside lamp on his side. Skinny like he hasn't eaten enough, peaky and pale like he might throw up anyways. Was that him?

Was that really him?

Eddie's pulling him in close and tight again. Murmuring softly into his hair in a way he can't quite parse.

"No man, I'm fucking worried. You were sitting at our table all night but you weren't there. Where'd you go, huh?" His tone is fond, light but-

"I think it was too much, it was...one second I was there walking in with you and the next I was just," Jon's not sure how to finish the sentence, heart pounding.

"I don't know. It's like my brain puts me on autopilot." The need to move his body, shake out this weakness in it, burns in his fingers. He rolls his neck, pressing his palms into his eye sockets like he can compress the rest of his mind back into its container.

Tendrils of himself float away, riptide confetti, as he talks. He can't hold all of himself together like this, not alone.

"Can you just," Mox let's the words ping pong around till he can get them out of his mouth.

"Hit me, kiss me, I don't I just- take me out of my skull? Put me back together?" He grinds his teeth, he hates asking. Makes him feel like he's chewing glass.

Eddie watches him try to detangle the singular thought from his brain, the longer he thinks the more Mox is sure Eddie is gonna dump him on his ass and go back to the restaurant.

A car alarm goes off in the parking lot and Mox thinks he flinches. His vision snaps like he does.

"Yeah I can do that." Eddie's timber SinkMeltSmoothes its way into Mox's marrow. A warm hand sliding along his face, cupping his cheek makes him realize how cold he is.

The car alarm shuts off, and Mox is more than thankful for that. More than thankful when Eddie presses their mouths together sweetly, like he can pull Mox back onto land from the crush of their bodies alone.

Jon shivers, pressing closer, arms looping around his friend's shoulders as Eddie picks him up and lays him down gently in the bed. God, when did they start moving?

Eddie's kisses are warm molasses, soothing the distant cold ache in Mox's body. His heart finally slowing down as Eddie crowds into him, all soft and insistent. Like he wants this, like Jon isn't just someone he's obligated to care for, like he gets something from this too.

Jon sighs into his mouth pulling away from the kiss, holding himself close as he can still. His head is starting to slow down too, he's finding it easier to gently unravel the knots in his brain now.

"Hey." He breathes out softly, voice still on the edge of watery, eyes still stinging as if he might burst at the seams with tears at any moment.

"Hey yourself." Eddie grins back, eyes mirrors of his own.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to ask for this again. Maybe asking didn't mean waiting till someone noticed he was drowning already.

Maybe he should just kiss Eddie again.

So he does.

[supercherrydraws]

First date

Tom looked at himself in the mirror in Matt's bedroom, who lent his room to the shorter one who didn't have full-length mirrors in his room. Usually whenever they needed to see themselves in the mirror, they went to the redhead's fourth bedroom.

- Why are you fussing so much? You are great! You don't have to have that worried look in your face-

Matt said, sitting on his bed analyzing the other and helping him choose a good outfit.

- I don't know if it's too much. It's just a date after all, I don't have to take it so seriously. It would be easier if I knew where we're going, but he insists on being a "surprise"-

Matt chuckled as he straightened the black blouse he wore, with faded dark blue jeans, black sneakers, and a thick plaid-print bracelet. He was handsome and while it wasn't a big deal, it was funny to see him so concerned about what he wore.

- You're very simple but you're neat. That's what he told you to wear. I'd go with more, but you're exactly in the discretion he gave and what I know Tord likes. I mean, he likes you, I think anything you wear will please him-

Matt lightly teased the Brit who laughed sarcastically, disagreeing with the taller one. As they laughed together, the door was opened

- Matt, can I use your mirror?... wow-

Tord walked into the room, amazed at the same instant that his eyes met the black-eyed one. He wasn't that dressed up, but seeing him in something other than his blue sweatshirt delighted him so much.

Thomas was looking at him with equal delight. Tord was wearing a black T-shirt with a red flannel over it, black jeans with white and black sneakers. Along with a silver army chain. He was beautiful in Thomas' eyes.

- Yes, you can, but you don't have to. You are great-

Matt said smiling, snapping them both out of their trance. They looked embarrassed that they'd admired each other in front of someone else, as well as being their first date. Unfortunately Matt should have known to borrow the mirror and Edd ended up knowing in consequence.

- Just fix the bangs... come here, let me throw them to the side-

Tom walked over, tossing Tord's bangs to the side, smearing them across Tord's forehead. He had recently cut it and it was longer, he was growing his hair out and that pleased Thomas a lot. He stared into the younger man's face, taking in how he was doing. He ended up smiling unconsciously, his hands slipping lightly on Tord's strong arm. They came out of their trance embarrassed, while Matt smiled at the two from afar. Edd was leaning against the doorframe now, watching them with a dirty grin.

- Hey, what are the lovebirds waiting for? You two look great, get out of here before you flood this house with love. We need everything but all that sweetness from you-

The two made a disgusted face and walked away. They weren't much for romance and their friends knew that well.

- Well, it's true. We will-

Tord said walking out of the room, walking past Edd who made fun of them once again. Tord said he would drive and Tom just accepted, even though he would love to get behind the wheel, he wouldn't know where to go anyway.

Along the way, they didn't talk much at first, showing nervousness about the new situation. Tom decided to bring it up, not taking the silence any longer.

- I know you don't like my songs, but is the place far enough for me to put something to play?-

Tord nodded with a smile, giving Thomas the freedom to put on his music.

- I like your songs, it’s the rest who doesn’t like it. They listen to those generic radio songs that no one can stand anymore and songs to put children to sleep-

Tom nods with a laugh, choosing a compilation playlist of various rock styles. They sang together Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Aerosmith, AC/DC, Queen, KISS and many other classics. When they arrived at their chosen location, Tom's eyes widened, amazed at the place.

- The Arcade?! I thought this place had closed many years ago!-

They got out of the car almost at the same time. Tord locking the car right behind by pressing the lock button on the car key.

- Yeah, I did too. But I was doing some research and luckily I found a guy doing a video about it on Instagram. They recently renovated-

Tom gave him a dirty look, approaching him teasingly and with a mocking look, holding back a small laugh.

- Did you do research before taking me on a date? Wow, how important am I?-

They both laughed, as much as Tord looked a little embarrassed, even as the other approached.

- Enough that I don't want to take you on a generic date at any romantic restaurant. I know you well enough to know you wouldn't like that-

Tom nodded, thanking him for making the effort to look for a different, cool place to take him. They entered side by side, avoiding much physical contact so far. The truth is that they were a little afraid of touching each other and the other not liking it, because they knew that neither of them was a big fan of having their personal space invaded. So they thought about taking it easy and if they had any opportunity to feel each other, they would try.

They bought the tickets for the games and decided to go to the easier ones first, to de-rust their body and mind to be ready for the more difficult ones at the end of the day. There were some competitions between the two and small arguments, but that was what made it all more interesting for both of them. In one of Tom's chosen shooting games, Tord decided not to participate, with the excuse that he wasn't a big fan of that one. But the truth was that he just wanted to see the shorter play. During the game, Tord noticed that Thomas was not holding the gun properly and this was causing him to lose points in the game.

- You're holding it wrong, like this you shoot less and have less aim. Oh, hold it like this-

He entered behind the other. Leaning his chest on the other's back to straighten his posture and held his hands to position them correctly. Tom blushed brightly, but took advantage of the heat of the taller one, snuggling slightly, letting the other show him the right way. When Tord realized what he was doing, he walked away, apologizing for the space invasion.

- No no, it's all right. It wasn't bad...you're...warm-

He admitted in embarrassment, walking away from the game once it was over. Thanks to Tord's help, he got some more points and with that, he had more tickets for a prize at the end. Tord looked at him, his silver eyes widening in surprise, showing an emotional side of him that Thomas hadn't known. Tom laughed, inviting him to try the hardest shot. During the game, Tom asked for help from Tord, who let go of his side without a second thought and snuggled into the smaller one, squeezing the grip tighter, resting his chin in the crook between the smaller's shoulder and neck, who shrugged it off to feel more of that cozy warmth.

When the game was over, they walked away slowly, unwilling to sever the connection they'd established. They looked at each other embarrassed but with a sincere smile on their lips. After seeing that all their points could be redeemed for a simple dull flashlight, they donated their tickets to a child who was collecting to get the biggest prize. They decided to eat a slice of pizza somewhere that would only sell a slice to be quicker and simpler. They found a quick little pizzeria and chose the slices they wanted, sitting at a small table for two outside the store. They talked and laughed while they ate without any hurry. Even though they weren't much of physical contact and affection, they fought the urge to hold hands. Thomas resisted the urge to hug Tord's strong arm as they walked, just because it felt soft and fluffy, as much as he imagined it to be hard because it was a trained muscle. As Tord struggled with the urge to hug Thomas as hard as he could and squeeze his tight little body.

They were bringing their hands together as they spoke, discreetly and acting naturally, as if nothing was happening. At the points the fingers were getting closer, the lines getting shorter and the faces getting hotter. Tord excited to intertwine their fingers, but Tom went ahead, fitting his small, broad fingers into Tord's long, slender ones, continuing the story he was telling. Tord began to feel comfortable and to press Thomas's fingers against his own, feeling how soft they really were. They were soft to the touch, but you could tell they were slightly rough. The masculine hands of both didn't take away the masculinity of that touch, which seemed rough in a way, they didn't seem to fit very well for the outsider, but for the two, who felt the touch and all the sensations, they fit perfectly. They began to caress each other with the tips of their fingers, feeling every crease, scar or callus.

They were bringing their hands together as they spoke, discreetly and acting naturally, as if nothing was happening. At the points the fingers were getting closer, the lines getting shorter and the faces getting hotter. Tord excited to intertwine their fingers, but Tom went ahead, fitting his small, broad fingers into Tord's long, slender ones, continuing the story he was telling. Tord began to feel comfortable and to press Thomas's fingers against his own, feeling how soft they really were. They were soft to the touch, but you could tell they were slightly rough. The masculine hands of both didn't take away the masculinity of that touch, which seemed rough in a way, they didn't seem to fit very well for the outsider, but for the two, who felt the touch and all the sensations, they fit perfectly. They began to caress each other with the tips of their fingers, feeling every crease, scar or callus.

- Do you have calluses on your fingertips? Why?-

Tord asked, touching Thomas' callused fingertips.

- Oh! This is for playing bass. The strings are thick, so over the time the fingers get calloused. And your calluses on the palm of your hand? What are they from?-

He asked back as he massaged the calluses on Tord's left hand.

- Ah, a lot of things hahah, exercises, like climbing the bar, lifting bench presses. It can also be a weapon, a rifle, the army etc-

They both laughed softly, tightening the grip of their hands. Tom stared at his clasped hands with a smile, before bursting into laughter, pulling Tord into another laugh, which asked what all the fun was about.

- It's just that I've always hated it…that. I've never liked touching anyone and I've always found it super ridiculous and stupid to hold someone's hand or these stupid displays of affection. But look at me here, holding and caressing your hand. I'm too hypocritical hahahahha-

Tord laughed out loud, squeezing the other's hand tighter, kissing it in a romantic and cinematic way, drawing a laugh and a forced disgust face from Thomas, pulling his hand away. But soon returning it to the highest as soon as he finished his scene. They played and joked some more, until they decided to get up and go to the parking lot where they left the car. Thomas asked to drive this time, as he wanted to go somewhere else first. Tord allowed it, asking Tom to surprise him. Upon arriving at the destination chosen by Thomas, he smiled pleased to see that it was a bar that played old rock live, he knew that Thomas could not end that night without a glass of vodka.

- I'm not going to drink with you, but feel free, just don't abuse it-

Warned Tord, sitting at the table next to Tom, who laughed sarcastically.

- You're weak, aren't you? It's okay, I don't want problems. I won't give you problems either, don't worry. Just wanted to hear the song with you-

Tord feigned exaggerated relief, taking a deep breath with a hand on his chest, causing Tom to chuckle lightly. The black-eyed one ordered a glass of vodka and promised it would be just that, just to leave a taste in his mouth. Tord accompanied him with a can of lemon tonic in his glass. After the first sip of the drink, Tom took more courage to show his will to the other.

-Hold my hand again-

He ordered, giving his hand to the Norwegian who laughed, holding it affectionately and supporting it on the wooden table, lightly stroking the back of the brunette's hand.

- With pleasure-

They both laughed discreetly, sipping their respective drinks. Thomas finished quickly, since there wasn't much of the drink in his glass, Tord took a little longer, which didn't bother the other, who enjoyed every touch and every word that came out of the Norwegian's mouth. He didn't want to feel that way, he didn't like it, but he knew he liked Tord a lot, he couldn't deny it anymore.

After paying, they got into the car again, this time heading home. It was already midnight, surely the others would be sleeping, as they both warned that they were fine and that they would be arriving late, so they wouldn't have to worry about them. They were silent for most of the way, enjoying the empty street and the lull of the night.

Arriving home, they parked the car in the garage and got out quietly, trying not to make any noise as they realized that all the lights were off and that the house was completely silent. They took off their shoes so they wouldn't make any sound when walking. They went up the stairs side by side and when they were going to separate to go to their respective rooms, they looked at each other once, with a happy and grateful smile, of someone who really enjoyed the night.

- Thanks for the night Tord...it was really good-

Thanked Tom, clearly embarrassed. Tord smiled even wider, taking the other's hand and lifting it to his lips, kissing it classily. He knew it embarrassed Tom.

- I thank you. I hope the next one doesn't take long to arrive-

He let go of the other's hand, which unwillingly pulled away. They continued in short silence for a little longer, before Tord spoke up once more.

- Is it okay if I…kiss you? I don't want to go too fast for you-

Tom's eyes widened in surprise, not knowing what to make of this situation. He'd deny it not to give in if he hadn't been equally craving it since the beginning of the night. He then decided to treat himself to that sensation and new experience. He took hold of Tord's arm and brought him closer, standing slightly on tiptoe just so Tord didn't have to bend over so much. He excited before touching the other's lips, but soon the smallest distance he set was cut short by Tord, who finally touched them. Initially the kiss was calm, kind of awkward. Just a deep, shy peck, but they soon began to elaborate it in a subtle way, letting their hands roam the other's body: they squeezed arms, caressed the back and Tord even let himself risk touching Thomas' butt, which was well received by for a while, but soon asked to stop playing it in that region. Tom wasn't much of those things and he was afraid to move on to something that wasn't just innocent affection anymore.

They parted the kiss slowly, enjoying each new sensation they provided. They smiled at each other and Tom leaned his head against the taller's strong chest, trying to hide his face in shame. Tord bit back a laugh, hugging the shorter one a little tightly and placing a small kiss on his head. They said goodbye unwillingly, said good night and went to their rooms, carrying a wide and sincere smile of joy, originating from the love they shared. As much as they were sure it was just a crush that wouldn't last long, they were experiencing true love for the first time.

[justadram]

Fic: Beach Week, pt 3

Parts 1 & 2; Jon x Sansa

Beach Week: You drink. You hook up. And it’s so good. Your brother will just have to deal.

Sansa wants to tell Jon to wait a few minutes to follow her, so no one suspects anything. A little discretion--more than they displayed on the back porch--is probably a good idea around his annoying teammates. It would give her some time to pull herself together too. Not a terrible thing, considering the smell of Jon’s soap has her feeling her pulse in embarrassing places.

But they don’t make it around the beer pong table without the team’s goalie snagging Jon’s attention.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I’m a little busy, Edd,” Jon says with his fingertips hovering above the waistband of her shorts.

“Have you seen the bathroom down here?” his reed thin friend asks, completely undeterred. “Or smelled it?”

Sansa wrinkles her nose. She really hopes he doesn’t mean to ask her to clean it. That’s the kind of thing some of her brother’s friends think is okay to ask her or Jeyne to do. But Edd has this shot of grey hair at his part that makes him look more mature than the rest of them. She’d inadvertently put him in a different category of guys, who don’t treat girls like servants.

He jerks his thumb towards the bathroom. “I’m realizing that putting my name on the rental contract is going to end as badly as it did last year. I’m never getting that deposit back.”

His point seems amply proven by a clang from the kitchen only he wheels around to acknowledge.

“Shit. That sounded bad.”

“Maybe not,” she says with a shrug.

“Might as well enjoy the destruction, I guess,” he says, lifting his cup at them. “Since I’ll be paying for it either way.”

“Sure, I’ll um... play a round with you later,” Jon says like he hasn’t followed a word his teammate and fraternity brother has said.

“Are you drunk?” she asks, bumping him with her hip.

“What?” he asks, eyes slicing to hers. She’s about to repeat herself, but he understood. “No. I’m fine.”

He seemed into it on the porch. Okay, he felt into it--that was unmistakable--but these days, there’s always that gnawing self-doubt ready ready to creep in. Having your boyfriend cheat on you does wonders for your self-confidence apparently. But, there’s probably no point in worrying whether Jon really wants her, when he can’t even focus on what Edd’s saying.

She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip. Jon is downright cute all dumbly aroused like this. How did she never notice how sexy he was?

For God’s sake, one time, she rode the team bus back from a game, when Harry disappeared on her, totally stranding her without a ride, and she fell asleep on Jon’s shoulder. He’d been the safe choice of a seatmate, and it’d been so comfortable rocking along in the dark, her shoulder leaned into his, that she passed right out. Probably drooled on him and didn’t give it a second thought, because it was just Jon Snow.

“You?” he asks, eyes skimming over her as if that might aid in his assessment of her sobriety.

“Nope.”

She’s never dated a guy that would have bothered to check. How messed up is that?

No, he definitely doesn’t have country club manners, but Jon’s an actual good guy. It makes her want him more if that’s possible. Screw doing the casual thing: Jon should be hers.

“Judging by the bathroom, you two are the only ones who aren’t. But there’s a fresh Pony Keg they just tapped if you want to contribute to the draining of my bank account through drunken mayhem.”

She runs her hand down the length of Jon’s arm, tracing the ridges of ropy muscle, until their fingers are linked. Just a firm squeeze, a silent message to hurry this up, and he taps Edd’s cup with his own.

“Later, man.”

Edd’s mouth opens and closes, fish-like, as he looks between the two of them and then squints over his cup. “Sans, if you’re that bored, you can always use my Netflix password.”

“Text it to me,” she says, as Jon gives her a sideways stare that makes her stomach flip.

“You’re an asshole, Tollett.” He tugs on her hand. “Come on.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Edd says loudly enough that she can hear him over the din, as they weave through the living room. “That’s how they stuck me with the rental contract.”

There’s a spilled beer soaking the corner of the rug, so he’s probably right about the deposit. Poor Edd.

Except, he’ll find a way to tell at least four people about them tonight in that matter of fact way of his, managing not to seem like a gossip, when he absolutely is. So, she doesn’t feel all that bad for him. Not when she’ll be lucky if her phone doesn’t blow up with angry texts from Harry before the night is over.

He’s that guy. The guy who screws you over and then has the nerve to get pissed when you let someone else screw you. Pure ego.

So, there’s Edd, and Asha of course, and Sam knows what’s up based on how he stares, eyes glued to the ceiling like he’s trying really hard not to react, as they brush past him at the bottom of the stairs with their hands clasped. Robb probably knows. Even if she won’t glance back towards the kitchen to see if he’s watching them, when Jon steers her around the banister, he’s got to have noticed.

This isn’t the low-key hookup she planned out.

Well, her brother is just going to have to deal. Because when the bedroom door shuts behind them and Jon backs her into it with his thigh between her legs and his hands sliding up underneath her sweatshirt, she thinks she deserves this.

Marg really wasn’t off-base: this is precisely what she needs.

Forehead pressed to hers, his hands still. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you... ”

“All week?” she teases, wrapping a hand around one of those solid arms.

“Hey,” he says, running his thumb along the band of her bra.

She tips her face up, inviting him to kiss her again like on the porch. He doesn’t take the bait.

"I want you to know something.”

She has to swallow to answer. “Okay.”

She toys with the hem of his softly worn t-shirt sleeve, waiting. The silence that stretches out between them makes her want to chew the inside of her cheek, but she wears her most practiced, cool expression.

Something flickers across his eyes. They’re so dark they’re almost black in the dimly lit, musty beach house bedroom, but whatever it is, it’s gone, when he hikes her thigh up around his hip.

“You are such a menace in these shorts.”

She’s pretty sure that’s not what he was going to say, but his fingers depressing her flesh is almost all she can concentrate on. “Trouble?”

“You have no idea.”

He kisses her with the same gentle assault that drove her crazy outside.

First kisses aren’t like this. As far as she knows, they’re either bad sloppy or tentatively unsure, but never this tender. Like they have forever. Like he wants to take forever with her. It feels like he’s been thinking about kissing her for much longer than a week.

A sharp breath at the feather-light brush of his lips on hers and her lips part, but instead of taking advantage, he continues to linger.

The kisses he presses to her lips--her lower lip, full, off-center, and back--aren’t gentle like this from lack of certainty. He knows exactly what he’s doing: this is purposeful and deliberate, winding her up for something. His soft, thrummingly erotic kisses build with such slow promise that she can’t help but dig her nails into the muscle of his arm.

God, what could he do to the rest of her?

Her pulse thuds in her ears, she feels it between her legs, her whole body focused on him with a drugged kind of pull. His scent, every point where their bodies touch, even the sound of his breathing and the creak of the floor under his shifting weight--she can’t get enough of it. His arm must hurt with the vice-like grip she’s got him in, but he gives no sign of it with this measured testing of her mouth.

She nips his lower lip, tugging, asking for more, and he smiles into another soft kiss. His steady breathing brings his firm chest against hers with every inhale, the sort of contact she wants more of, as much as she wants to taste his mouth and roll around in sheets washed in whatever laundry detergent he uses. He smells so damn good.

While she paws at him helplessly, he’s going to kill her, drive up her blood pressure until she has a heart attack with her back pushed against a cheap slab door. Lingering longer with every kiss, the anticipation coiling in her belly will end her.

And he knows it. Smiling against her mouth, she’s convinced he knows it.

Bastard.

She says his name like she’s begging, because she is.

He takes pity on her.

No, worse. So much worse, she realizes, arching her back, as a callous on the palm of his hand snags on the soft lace of her bra. It a flimsy unlined thing, the prettiest one she packed, and it does nothing to keep her from feeling the warmth of his hand. His warm hands at her waist and breast and the puff of his breath against her neck, drives a needy sound from her throat, as he kisses from her jawline down.

Looping her arms behind his neck, she tilts her pelvis, straining towards him for more. Her head thuds against the hollow door, as he lifts her off the floor, two hands gripping her ass. If the dull contact hurts, she doesn’t feel it. All she feels, when she wraps both legs around him and he shifts her--just so--is the length of him hard against her. Right where she’s sensitive.

“Fuck.” His curse vibrates against her chest, while the thrill of the power shift between them sends tendrils of pleasure up her back and down her limbs.

Finally, he kisses her hard, lips parting and tongue sweeping over hers with a demanding heaviness that mimics the thrust of him against her. It pushes her up the door. Just an inch, so he has to chase her mouth. It’s more desperate, the good kind of wet that feels like sex. And again her back slides up the door, when he thrusts once more, head tilting, as he deepens the kiss.

As good as this is, and it really, really is, she’s not going to be able to just kiss him: she wants to do a lot more than that. He does too based on that thick erection pressing into her stomach.

One-handedly fumbling with the doorknob that locks with a click, he walk-stumbles back the three steps to the bed, turns, and deposits her atop the sheets. Toeing off his sneakers, the way you shouldn’t because it ruins the heels, he grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls.

The only light in the room filters in through the closed plastic blinds. She’s seen him shirtless before, dozens of times. So, when he throws his t-shirt to the side and steps towards her, she shouldn’t suffer this Pavlovian response, mouth filling with saliva like he’s a damn meal. But she does. Her heart practically knocks against her chest at the thought of touching him.

The bed sags under his weight, as he crawls over her, easing her down into the pillows and caging her in with his arms.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I am now, she thinks, since his mass pushes her into the mattress, satisfying some of that ache he’s triggered inside her.

Proximity is good too. It gives her the opportunity to run her hands over his chest down to where he narrows. His muscles twitch. His jeans are just low enough on his hips that she can see the v, the one that is practically an adult advertisement, she thinks with a lick of her bottom lip. He was skinnier back when she clung to him in the Lannister’s pool, and he didn’t have this path of hair above the fly of his jeans.

It’s sexy. Really sexy.

Her fingers curl into his waistband on either side of his fly. His pale skin is velvety. If she pops the button, she can find out what the rest of him feels like.

She frowns at the dip of his head, disappearing down her body and putting that brassy button out of her reach. It puts nearly all of him out of her reach, she realizes, letting her head rock back in frustration.

“What are you doing?”

Pushing her sweatshirt up around her armpits, he kisses above her navel. “Kissing you.”

The light rasp of the shadow of his beard on her skin and his lazy kisses paired with the tense hold he has on her hips sends waves of sensation out from between her restless legs. His mouth marks a path over her stomach--lower--and her hips cant.

She screws up her face. This isn’t like her. She’s a little actress in bed, but in her most enthusiastic, male ego boosting performances, she’s always been more reserved.

“What should I be doing?”

“Oh my God,” she says, twining her fingers in his hair.

Like she could actually bring herself to say? She can picture a couple. His head between her legs, for one, but she doesn’t say stuff like that out loud.

“Sans,” he says, all raspy and low, his breath ghosting over her damp skin. “What did Asha say to you?”

She chokes on a laugh, because that’s not something she really wants to admit, as he works his way up her body to kiss over her bra. All she can see is the mop of his faintly curling hair, as his mouth closes over her nipple, hot and wet through the lace. Her knees bend, drawing up at the spike of pleasure.

“Hmmm?” he hums, peeling back the cup of her bra with his teeth.

Giddiness bubbles up in her chest. Oh, what the hell. “Uh, that you’d rock my world actually.”

He raises his head enough for his eyes to meet hers. His gaze is oddly dull before he rubs his chin between the valley of her breasts. “No pressure, huh?”

“Seems promising so far.” She ruffles his hair and bites back a grin.

There’s just a glint of white at the crooked upturn of his mouth, as he twists his head and scrubs the back of his neck. She’s always teased Jon a little, but this kind of teasing is so much better.

“There are condoms in the pink bag over there,” she says with a lift of her chin towards the cracked veneer dresser on the far wall.

She saw them in Jeyne’s cosmetic bag, when it tipped over, spilling its contents, as she was fiddling with her charger in the outlet.

“Yeah?” His brows draw together. The furrows make him look more like the Jon she’s accustomed to, all guarded and sullen. You’d think she’d offended him, instead of suggesting they have sex.

Yes, she’s really suggesting they steal Robb’s girlfriend’s condoms.

“Look, I don’t want you to think we have to.”

“I know.” She reaches up to smooth her fingertips over those dark brows. Whatever niggling uncertainty, she can erase it. “Don’t you want to?”

If he’d pull back, she would die right here of mortification, but he shifts his weight up and over her, not away. He cradles her cheek in his hand. “Sans.”

She turns her face, bringing herself nose to nose with him. It makes his eyes look huge. “Okay, well, I do too.” Seductive might be the better choice, but all she can manage is a light little chirp. “You don’t like... think I’m a virgin, right?”

A red flush spreads up his neck and he looks over at some spot beyond her ear. After a long pause, he huffs against her forehead, presses a kiss that’s painfully sweet there, and swings off the bed to pad over to the dresser. It’s a small bag, so there’s not much searching necessary to retrieve the silver foil square, which he brings back and tosses on the bed beside her.

"In case,” he says, as she sits up in the bed and reaches for his jeans.

Right. In case, Sansa thinks, as she pops that button.

Other people in her family are known for being stubborn, but she’s just as stubborn as any of them. She’s just more adept at persuasion, which means she’s going to turn this beach week thing into something more. Turn it into a summer. Turn it into whatever she wants.

She wants him.

When he kicks free of his jeans and boxers, there’s no denying he looks good. He’s got the kind of cock Marg would wax poetic about, which makes her cheeks go pink too, because she’s staring, fully dressed at Jon’s naked body like a pervert.

Only one way to fix that, she figures, but he stops her when her hands go for the ribbing at the bottom of her sweatshirt. “Let me.”

Her head and arms pull free of the sweatshirt, and once he’s nudged her back into the bed, she lifts her hips to shimmy her shorts down.

“Cold?” he asks, snatching up the sheet and ballooning it up over them before she can respond.

The goosebumps are partly from the cool night air, partly his hand skimming her side. That and the slow way he kisses her again, teasing her lips apart and licking into her mouth. She spreads her legs, letting him settle into the cradle of her hips. The pressure of him there heightens her impatience, and she urges him in closer with a hand to the small of his back.

He rubs against her and she answers back with a matching roll of her hips. The head of his cock doesn’t hit where she needs, but she chases the feeling, rocking with him, following his rhythm.

His hand slides down her side again, pausing at her hip, as she shifts, trying to rub against him again.

“I want to touch you.”

She nods. Yes, she wants those long fingers on her, in her.

He pushes the thin cotton of her panties aside. There’s no fumbling, no awkward game of seek and find. The air leaves her chest in a rush at the wet slide of his fingers over her and then to the center of all her spiraling need.

“Christ,” he curses. His elbow slips on the pillow and he makes a low, urgent sound. “I wish I’d asked you out before.”

“Before?” she says, trying hard not to whine, as his thumb tightens its circle and one and then two fingers curl into her.

Bracing himself alongside her, the sheet slides down his back, and his eyes go from hers to what he’s doing like he can’t decide what he wants to watch most.

Before. Before. Before Harry?

Her thighs squeeze around his hand, trembling. If he keeps this up, she’s going to come around his fingers.

“Why didn’t you?”

Why? When they could have been doing this?

It’s a bit of a pretzel, but she tries to work her hand around his arm to reach him, so he can feel like this too. He blocks her with a nudge of his elbow.

“I will come all over you if you do that,” he warns, and her heart skips hard.

Slipping his hand free of her, he grabs for the discarded condom packet.

She instantly misses his touch, throbs with the absence, and her legs fidget purposelessly on either side of where he sits back on his haunches. She has to actually bite back a command to hurry up.

It’s not the first time she’s been eager to get to this point--with a boyfriend. Sex is easy to romanticize. The problem is, it’s never turned out so great in practice.

Please let this be different, because all she can think about is Jon moving inside her. Now.

He tears the packet open with his eyeteeth. Well, he’s hurrying, but that’s not the safest thing to do, smoothly accomplished or not. Really smooth, almost practiced.

No, she won’t think about Asha or that other girlfriend of his--the redhead--as he pinches the tip and rolls it down. What was her name? Yvette?

His eyes find hers. “Would you have said yes?” he asks, brows raised and mouth in a flat line, as he grabs himself at the base of his bobbing cock.

Dear God. “I don’t know.”

She’s not sure if that’s an honest answer or just what came out given the circumstances. Her brain is seriously scrambled right now.

But it doesn’t much matter, when he grips her hips and drags her half a foot down the bed towards him. The tip of his cock brushes where she’s slick and ready and he bears down. Just the head, and then more, working his way inside of her.

A warm flush starts low on her belly and spreads up her chest with the steady stretch of her body. His jaw is tense, breathing tight with restraint. Watching him like this, holding back and framed by the slatted light from the window, it’s not what she needs.

He’s too far away. Stretching out an arm, she clutches at his shoulder and hauls him down. Falling forward, the angle where their bodies meet changes. He bottoms out inside her.

He freezes at the hitch in her breathing.

“Oh, fuck.” Weight supported by his one forearm, the fingers of his other hand go taut, flexing against her thigh. “I hurt you?” he asks.

Her hands map his shoulders, down his side to grip his ass. “No. It’s good,” she says, rocking up into him.

Intimacy didn’t sound appealing at all, when Marg suggested a harmless little hookup. Sansa didn’t trust guys; didn’t trust herself.

But Jon wouldn’t hurt her. He’s not built like that. She’s safe and wanted and he’s moving inside of her so slow and deep that she can’t help her head lifting off the pillow.

“Oh God,” she repeats endlessly in whispery pants.

His hand threads into her hair, anchoring at the base of her skull. “You feel so good,” he puffs out in agreement.

And then he’s kissing her again along her neck, behind her ear, taking her earlobe in his mouth and between his teeth. Tingly swells of pleasure build in her belly at each long stroke and meeting of their bodies.

She wants to tell him it’s okay, that he can lose control--it would make her feel powerful to make him lose control--but she’s lost to speech, when his hand fits between them. The slippery tension he builds is too good. She pulls her leg up higher, shifting him inside of her and making more room for the play of his fingers over her.

His mouth misses hers, his hips breaking rhythm, as she scrapes her nails over his ass. “Don’t stop,” she manages to whimper, circling her hips, trying to fight against his shallow, erratic movements. He can’t come before she does; she needs this.

“I won’t. I’m not. Just... fuck,” he says, rolling his hips harder. His eyes lock with hers, pupils blown wide, lips parted. “I want you to come. With me inside you.”

Almost. Almost.

She comes hard. It’s blinding, it roars in her ears and bows her body around him. She wants to croak out something--oh my God would be appropriate--but she can’t form words, only groan as he drives into her and she comes around him. All she can do is cling to him, as he swallows her noises with a sloppy kiss and fucks her in shallow quick, slow deep pumps.

Peeling one arm from around him, he knits their fingers and stretches their clasped hands above her head. He says her name, face contorted and the tendons in his neck strung tight. His last thrust slams into her, and he collapses.

She can feel his heart, pounding, and his labored breath stirs the damp hair at her temples. He feels good, sinking her into the mattress. She doesn’t want him to move. Maybe ever.

She squeezes his hand, a silent message; he squeezes back.

Part 4

[everythingeddsworldkin]

Fashion for a female Edd with fluffy things and scarves!!! I imagine tucking in the sweatshirt and pairing it with any high waisted pants, but I think a light brown would work best. Hope you like this!! - Mod Michael

Pink floral scarf with green lace

Light green sweatshirt

Long hand knit olive green and blue scarf

Dark green cardigan

Fuzzy sage green scarf

Green stripped socks

brown vintage shoes

Vintage brown pants

Leather oxfords

[animutate]

I just realized that I have all of my old edd the cola man and the sweatshirt brothers™ fanart from 2016 and I hate it all

So I'm gonna find some of the worst ones and post em

[joqatana]

Today I

Did two yoga classes

Had a phone interview with a person from EDD about the new unemployment categories/applications. None of which can help me, so I’m glad I could give them input. I can’t be the only one in my situation.

Went up the hill with @zanshinart

Worked on the sweatshirt. One arm to go!

[thestarsaroundyourscars]

eddie steals all of richies' sweatshirts,,, and theres one that's big on Richie so obvs its huge on edds and hes wearing it and richies just over there fuckin dyin

Enjoy almost 900 words based on this precious idea, anon. ❤️

It was Friday night and Richie and Eddie were having a sleepover at theTozier’s house. It was just the two of them there tonight,since Richie’s parents were trapped in Bangor due to a snowstorm, forcing themto stay for a couple more days than they had planned. It had been growingcolder and colder in Derry the past couple of days, which is why Richie found himselfdownstairs in the kitchen making hot chocolate for him and his boyfriend, whilehe was curled up under a pile of blankets in Richie’s bed.

Once the microwave beeped, Richie grabbed the two mugs and left thekitchen, using his nose to turn off the light switch. He climbed up the stairscareful not to spill hot chocolate on himself. The door to his room ispartially closed, so he used his shoulder to push it open. He was eyeing themugs, so he didn’t notice that Eddie was not on his bed, but standing in frontof Richie’s closet.

Richie lifted his head and the sight in front of him almost made himdrop the two mugs, because Eddie was wearing one of Richie’s sweatshirts, his favoriteone in fact and he looked fucking adorable in it. Richie bought it one day he wentthrift shopping with Beverly and even though it was too big for Richie it wastoo iconic not to buy it. The fact that it was already big on him, meant it washuge on his boyfriend, who he towered over.

The sweatshirt reached Eddie’s knees and the sleeves covered his hands,giving him the most adorable sweater paws ever. He looked so cute that Richiecouldn’t stop the whine that left his mouth.

“I hope you don’t mind I went through your closet. I got cold withoutyou.” Eddie said, before yawning. He must have dozed off while Richie wasdownstairs because his face was soft from sleep and he was rubbing at his eyes,having trouble keeping them open.

“Come here baby, I’ll warm you up.” Richie teased, waggling his eyebrowsat his boyfriend. Eddie snorted.

“You come here, I want my hot―”

“Boyfriend? Of course, Eds.”

“―chocolate. My hot chocolate.” Eddie said, shaking his head, a lazy smileon his face.

“Fine. But first, can I say you are the most adorable little thing I’veever seen?”

“I’m going to ignore the ‘little’ you threw in there because I’m stillhalf asleep.” Eddie said, yawning again. “And you say I look adorable all thetime.”

“It’s the truth. But right now, Eds, you, in that huge sweater, all softand sleepy, I just― gah, you look so fucking cute.” Richie whined and bounced on his feet like a kid. He was still holding the mugs in his hands, and some hotchocolate spilled on the floor, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. “Ineed a picture of this.”

And with that he put the mugs on his desk and took out his cellphone. Instinctively,Eddie covered his face with his hands. Richie took a picture of him like that,regardless.

“Richie.” Eddie whined. “Youknow I don’t like it when you take pictures of me.”

Now it was Richie’s turn to whine. “Come on, Eds. I want to rememberthis moment. You look so cute, I could die.”

“Will I get my hot chocolate after?”

“And cuddles from your boyfriend.”

“Fine. Take the picture.” Eddie sighed.

Richie grinned. “Smile for me, baby.”

And Eddie did, a tight lipped smile just to please his boyfriend. Richietook the picture and immediately set it as the background for his phone.

“Fucking adorable.” Richie muttered.

“Can I have my hot chocolate and my cuddles now?”

Richie put the phone away and stared contemplative at Eddie, a mischievoussmile appeared on his face.

Then he tackled Eddie into the bed and started peppering his face withkisses.

“You.” A kiss to his forehead. “Are.” A kiss to his right cheek. “So.” Akiss to his left cheek. “Fucking.” A kiss to his nose. “Precious.” And finallya kiss to his lips.

Eddie just laughed and half-heartedly tried to get Richie off of him. “Richiestop! It tickles.”  

“Oh, I’ll tickle something else of yours.” Richie said, nuzzling Eddie’sneck.

“Beep beep, Richie, oh my God.”

“I’m sorry, Eds but you look so―” Richie groaned infrustration. Then he lifted his head and looked at Eddie. “I love you.”

Immediately, Eddie’s face softened and he smiled at Richie. “I love youtoo, dummy. But you’re crushing me.”

Richie lifted himself by his arms and kissed Eddie’s lips one last timebefore getting off from the bed entirely. He went to the desk to pick the mugsand frowned.

Eddie noticed his boyfriend tense up. “What is it?”

Richie turned around and smiled apologetically. “How do you feel about cold chocolate?”

In the time he left the kitchen, walked upstairs, almost died over howcute Eddie looked and attacked his boyfriend with kisses, the hot chocolate hadgone cold.

“Richie.” Eddie whined.

He sighed. “Fine, I’ll be right back.” Riche said, grabbing the mugs andwalking downstairs for the second time that night per his boyfriend’s wishes.After all, it was his fault he had gotten distracted by Eddie being the mostadorable person alive.

You can send headcanons or prompts to my ask box anytime.  

Tag list:@daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @pennys-pet-kitty @tinyarmedtrex @richiefuckfacetozier@sam-i-am2468 @nicoperryy @richardtoz @aizeninlefox @chocolatemangoose @fluidrich

I’m using this opportunity to apologize to the people on my taglist for not posting stuff recently, have this while I work on changing that ❤️

[wehedgehogbald-blog]

Edd : I'm not a bun, just a big sweatshirt.

[mushroomminded]

Hot

  Idea from here

  Tom’s head was screaming, throbbing, he could feel his heart pulsing in every inch of his body. Cold stabbed every pore like an icicle through his skin. His vision was blurred, the room was spinning, he could feel warmth radiating from downstairs. He needed warmth. Tom stumbled out of bed. It was a small bed, a small stack of ice cold blankets on it. There was no warmth in it but it had a smell: the same smell coming from the first floor: the smell of something alive and warm. He staggered across the floor, the boards creaking below his feet. He could hear a voice. He fumbled for the door.

  The voice stopped when the door creaked open, but the warmth was still there, radiating. Tom could feel it on his face.

  “Tom, are you up?” The voice was familiar, but Tom couldn’t place it. He proceeded down the stairs.

  “Tom what’s wrong? you look awful,” the same voice. A figure. Dressed in a long black coat over a green hoodie, black boots, a hat and goggles. The figure touches him, withdraws.

  “You’re so cold,” the voice says. There’s warmth. The figure is warm, but there’s something warmer. Tom pushes past.

  “Tom, hold on,” the figure grabs his shoulder. His hand is so warm. “You really don’t look good, what’s going on?”

  Tom growls, something low something animal. Then he sees it: there’s a figure seated on the couch, staring up at him. He’s stripped down to his jeans, there’s sweat dripping down his face. A light emanates from his chest and there’s heat cutting through the air in waves. Even from the distance, Tom can feel his body warming in the presence of it.

  “Edd…” The figure says, weakly, fearfully. The first figure steps in front of him, hands on his shoulders.

  “Let’s get you back upstairs,” he says quietly. Tom doesn’t even feel his claws come out.

  Warm, warm, WARM.

  There’s a cry and a blast of heat down his front. Tom’s head feels like it will explode, his heart rate rising higher and higher.

  “Edd!” The warm one cries. Edd stumbles back, four parallel red stripes across his collarbone. Torn through the coat, the sweatshirt, the T-shirt, his skin, his hand flies to cover it but Tom can still feel it...the heat.

  He pushes past.

  “Stop!” Edd grabs his arm, holding him back. His grip is tight. Tom keeps walking. Edd stops him. He’s strong.

  Tom snarls. He can feel his claws stretching out, his scales spreading, covering his skin. He needs to be warm. He needs to get at the warm one...he needs in his chest.

  “Tom I don’t want to but I will hurt you,” Edd threatened. “Go back upstairs.”

  Tom paused, then he turned, claws out, slashed at him, but he didn’t reach. His wrist was stopped with a strong hand. Then he was thrown. Across the room, he hit the wall. He scrambled back to his feet and snarled. He could still feel the warmth giving him strength and needed more. He lunged.

  Again he felt his arm twisted, his body thrown to the ground. His opponent didn’t hold back. A hand pressed to his throat, the boot pressed on his belly. He struggled, his body and tail writhing against the floorboards, teeth snapping at the hands holding him down.

  “Tom, stop!” Edd snarled, pressing harder. Blood dripped from his chest and fell on Tom’s face. He could feel Edd’s pulse on his throat, but his oxygen was running out. He gasped, trying to claw at the hand, but Edd held him firm. The room was starting to spin. Edd’s hand withdrew.

Gasping and coughing, Tom sat up, doubling over himself. His head hurt but the overwhelming heat and smells were fading away. A hand fell gently on his shoulder.

  “Tom?”

  Edd. Tom turned, Edd was there, one hand on his chest, one hand holding Tom’s shoulder, squeezing it so tight it hurt.

  Breathing heavily, Tom looked him over.

  “You’re bleeding,” he said, the memory of why floating somewhere in his mind.

  Edd let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I am,” he said softly. “Let’s get you back upstairs.”

[kseely]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Aerie Pullover Hoodie Sweatshirt Faux Fur Lined Kangaroo Pocket Pink Women’s Sm.

[undercoverwizardfanfiction]

one time i glanced at your pink axolotl in the yellow sweatshirt and thought it was eddy from ed edd n eddy (in a good way)

haha, if anything thanks for making me laugh XD

[madmom57]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Cartoon Network 2021 NWOT Hoodie Sweatshirt Size Medium Dexter’s Lab, Eddy.

[mutherplocker0665]

11 Questions (x3)

I’m sorry it took me so long to answer this! I got tagged by 3 lovely people!

Because I got asked so many question those tagged are free to answer 11 out of any of these 33 questions :D

Rules!

1. Always post the rules

2. Answer the questions given to you by the person who tagged you

3. Write 11 questions of your own

4. Tag 11 people you want to get to know better

***

@cocxaiscanonking Questions

1.  Do you have any guilty pleasure songs?

Yes…Rewatching old 2007 AMVs…like Romeo & Juliet for Kataang...

2.  The weirdest experience you’ve had in Public?

Seeing someone take a shit in an alley LOL

3.  Any other fandoms you like?

OMIGOD NO TOO MANY!!! Here are a few: ATLA, Naruto/Boruto, OW, KHs, VLD, Zootopia, HTTD, Ranma, TeenTitans/DC, Avengers/Marvel, FT and hundreds more...!!!

4.  Favorite animated movie? (can be anything!)

Complete tie between: How to Train Your Dragon 2/ Rise of the Guardians/ The Incredibles 2

5.  What do value the most in a friendship?

Sincerity and Loyalty. Friends that stick through with you no matter what.

6.  Do you watch any Anime? If so, any favourites? (or y u don’t watch it.)

I do…UGH SO MANY AGAIN! But recently I have been keeping up with Boruto and just finished Servant x Service!

7.  Least favorite Disney movie?

Disney has never been my favorite but probably Snow White…I’m sorry!

8.  Which VLD character do you relate to the most?

Lance’s insecurities, Shiro’s need to find balance, and Pidge’s curiosity. Also Coran is my incarnate.

9.  Have you watched the original 80s Voltron DoTU?

YES!

10. Does your star sign match your personality?

mmmm Maybe?? I’m a Libra-Scorpio Cusp :3

11. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

Introverted

***

@rueitae Questions

1. Movie(s) that had a great impact on you as a child - you know, the ones you vividly remember watching as a kid?

Casper the Friendly Ghost, Appleseed, Ed, Edd & Eddy, and How to Train Your Dragon is what made me decide to become a Vis Dev artist.

2. What is your occupation? Or what do you want to do as a career? Tell me about it!

Oh! NICE^^ As a said above I am a Vis Dev artist who does Character Design! I’m close to graduating soon and hope to move down to LA after :D

3. Spinning rides or Up and Down rides?

BOTH!

4 What is the most neat place you’ve ever visited? Would you live there?

I’d love to live in Japan for a while but Cali Suburbs will always be my favorite. Also Machu Picchu NEVER gets old!

5. How did you find your current fandom?

Uff…I saw a trailer on Netflix in 2016 the day before VLD was released and I never looked back. Cue also around the same time I was finally convinced to make a Tumblr!

6. What’s the hottest wing sauce you’ve ever eaten?

I’m no good with spoocey…. :(

7. What’s the fic/art you’ve always wanted to write/draw but haven’t gotten to for any reason. OC? Original story? Tell me all about it!

I have an original idea that I have loved and developed since childhood but never have actually done anything official for it…maybe I will…

Also the plance fic that I just can’t get around to fucking finishing… >:|

8. Comfort food. If there is one snack/meal that is your go to - what is it? Maybe it’s a drink?

Oatmeal, mini Quesadillas, and Cherry Tomatoes!

9. One person you really look up to as a role model.

Lots of artists and right now I’m mildly obsessed with being as good as Max Grecke

10. Favorite color combination?

Blue and Green  (//^o^//)

11. What is your favorite outfit? That one clothing combination that makes you feel hip or comfortable or both.

Black leggings, big ass sweatshirt, long scrunched down socks and my high top vans, and a big ass jacket to feel extra fluff!

***

@vivalachocolate Questions

1. What sort of animal person are you? Dog person? Cat person? Horse person? Rat/Lizard/Snake/Rabbit person? Are you an animal person at all?

I’m a die hard Dog/Snake lover but I’d be happy to be suffocated by ALL pets.

2. What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had (that you remember)?

I was shot in a dream once cuz my phone rang so when I woke up clutching my stomach and answered the phone I yelled at my brother for getting me killed -_-

3. What’s your opinion on betta fish? Yea or nay?

Meh?

4. What’s the most unexpectedly delicious meal you’ve ever had?

Potato Salad!

5. Who’s your favorite DC Comics character? Or, if you’re one of those people, your favorite Marvel Comics character?

DC is def Beat Boy and Marvel is def (a tie between) Deadpool, Captain Murica, and Spidey :3

6. Does your personality actually fit your Western and/or Chinese zodiac? If it does, how so?

Answered this previously~

7. What is the one pet peeve that drives you absolutely bonkers?

When people either do things while you talk to them or don’t make eye contact. It feels like I’m not being heard. Also I hate flip-flops…I don’t like toes lol.

8. If you had to choose between living in a forest for the rest of your life or living in a hot air balloon for the rest of your life, which would you choose?

Hot air balloon!!!

9. Favorite non-popular mythical creature? Dragons, unicorns, and fairies are not suitable answers.

Big Foot!

10. Favorite holiday? Your birthday doesn’t count.

Christmas *.*.*

11. What is your definition of happiness?

Doing what makes you feel the most accomplished.

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I’m tagging @daft-punky @planced @heraimisgettinbetter @badwhalenikki @elen42564 @elby-the-megnet @swindle94 @xpyzkx @bibohbii @vallahisenbiliyorsun @pidgeonlance @nicollini