#he's SPECIAL TO ME !!!!!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text

Boromir, 02.2024
Hi everybody, just so you know I love to talk to people so if you want to chat about anything (Tolkien related or not) go for it :)
Anyway, I wish whoever sees this post a very good day or night <3
#boromir#boromir fanart#lord of the rings#the lord of the rings#lotr#lotr art#lotr fanart#art#traditional art#artists on tumblr#this man occupies my every waking thought#he's special to me
415 notes
·
View notes
Text









Textless 4x4 icons of emo Kal-el in Absolute Superman #1 (2024) by Rafa Sandoval
#he's special to me#asolute superman#kal-el#superman#absolute universe#rafa sandoval#dc comics#dc#comics#jason aaron#edit#icons#comic panels#reading log#dc all in#wednesday spoilers
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
uploading sketchbook content to keep this blog alive while i finish decon and hancock
more ree-dee bc he makes up 90% of this sketchbook at this point >:}
#stinky rat man#he's special to me#fallout 4#fallout#fo4#fallout fanart#fo4 companions#fo4 fanart#robertmaccreadyfallout#robert maccready fanart#robert joseph maccready#maccready fo4#maccready fallout 4#fo4 maccready#maccready#fallout 4 maccready#fallout art#fallout 3#fallout series#matt mercer#matthew mercer
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
kevin korchinski in rockford | 10.08.24
#if y'all knew what the lighting looked like before i fixed it......#anyways#he's special to me#my irl saw me making these and thought i was making a thirst trap edit btw#had to refrain from telling her that he's actually a lesbian so#kevin korchinski#hawks#my gifs
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
I love that Hunter Jeremiah Hartley is
1. Canonically schizophrenic

[ID: a screenshot of a woe.begone transcript, showing part of Hunter's dialogue reading "I'm not judging. I'm in the same boat. I had some incidents growing up and a couple even as an adult. I'm not gonna dance around it, bud. Meltdowns. Voices. Hallucinations. I didn't really understand it until I finally went to a doctor and they figured out that I was having schizophrenic episodes" End ID]
2. Canonically religious (seemingly Christian?)

[ID: Another screenshot of a woe.begone transcript showing a conversation between Hunter and Mike reading: "Have you made peace with the Lord?" I shrugged. "No, I'm not a believer," I said. "That's fine. I'm in cabin 44C up that ways a little if you ever wanna talk about it, but I'm not the converting type unless someone really wants to". End ID]
And neither of these two things have anything to do with him being an antagonist. 💖
37 notes
·
View notes
Text

happy birthday nico di angelo! (january 28th, 1932)
"kore, kore, fauna and flora
how did you get your throne?
you made a deal, traded daffodils
for a kingdom of ash and bone"
#he's special to me#💀💀💀💀#pjo#hoo#percy jackon and the olympians#heroes of olympus#nico di angelo#*mine
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jack Edwards is my special white boy
#asra talks#daniel howell is up there too#jack edwards#what he says is well thought out and yeah he can afford a neutral stance on things and to be objective#but he's also aware of it#he's special to me
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm a big sensitive baby when it comes to chase. i need you all to know that. i don't like seeing anyone who talks about not liking him.
#typewriter dings#he's from my childhood#we've been together so long#that's why i don't go around the fandom if i can avoid it#he's special to me
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rolfe Whitehouse from Affliction (1997) being an adorable, introverted pacifist for about 5 minutes.
#he's precious#and i want to protect him#he's special to me#and i'm sad he was only on screen for a little while#rolfe whitehouse#affliction#willem dafoe
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
When irl pisses me off, I rewatch the Honda Odyssey scene to relax
#and it works#rewatching a movie because murder is wrong#i find it too easy to live vicariously through those gays in fact#logan especially#i love logan baring his teeth like a pug or a bulldog 99% of his fight scenes#i love how he enjoys swiping at wade. they're both little shits#i love how wade fights back. that backseat camera zoom holds a special place in my heart#the Homoeroticism of it all#it soothes me#deadpool and wolverine honda#deadpool and wolverine honda odyssey#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#wade wilson#wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#deadclaws#deadpool 2024#buy a honda odyssey now and resolve your marital spats today!#“I haven't had this much fun in so long!” ahh grin
23K notes
·
View notes
Text
This was just so sweet. I love the care in his reaction. It was really well done, Sarah. You write kisses so well. I think it's your jam.

I do also enjoy a well placed gawfaw so extra points for that.
I'm so glad I read this. I know who I'll be thinking about as I fall asleep tonight.



The Third Date
Eddie Munson x Anorgasmic!Reader
It’s finally the night of your date with Eddie and everything is gonna be fine. Great. Fine and great. Right?
Part One. Part Two.
cw: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, making out, fingering, sexual anxiety/panic attack, discussion of difficulty climaxing, eddie being sweet and reassuring, fluffy ending.
I was kinda in my feelings and needed Eddie to tell me all the right things. Sue me. 6k 18+, MDNI.
You’ve barely finished knocking on the bright red door to Eddie’s when it swings open to reveal him grinning back at you. He ushers you inside, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he shows you around his place.
It’s a small apartment, but for two young guys living together it’s surprisingly tidy and well furnished. That must be Steve’s influence, you muse, noting the plushness of the sofa and an overstuffed armchair. Shelves piled with books and board games sit off to the side and next to the screen door is a plant that could do with a little water, but ultimately is surviving fine. It’s bordering on cozy in here, cast in the glow of a couple lamps and a candle flickering on the coffee table. The warm, sweet smell of some nonspecific baked goods filling the room.
“So, this is my castle,” Eddie says, bowing slightly and brandishing his arms.
“I like it,” you nod as you glance around. “It’s not quite what I expected.”
“What? You were thinking empty liquor bottles, a couple camp chairs, a half dozen posters of babes in bikinis?” He quirks his brow at you, seemingly reading your mind.
“That may be exactly what I was picturing,” you reply with a knowing smirk. “Though it is you, so maybe a dragon in a bikini instead?”
He laughs at that and bobs his head a few times in agreement as his eyes drift to the overnight bag you’re clutching. “Here, let me put that in my room for you,” he says with a sweet smile.
You hand it over and your eyes follow him as he heads down the hall. He pushes open the door at the very end and you catch a glimpse of his old Corroded Coffin banner hanging on the wall that brings a smile to your face. Below it is his bed, nicely made up with a navy duvet.
Just the sight of it makes your heart race and every thought falls right out of your head.
When he re-emerges from the room, you realize he’s been talking to you and you have to force yourself to focus on his voice rather than your deep contemplation of his sheets.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered dinner already,” he says. “There’s this Thai place that’s seriously incredible, but it takes a while to deliver, so I wanted to be sure it got here on time.”
“That sounds great,” you say, still milling about to take in the rest of Eddie’s place.
He rattles off all the dishes he ordered, each one sounding better than the last, and you pause by the fireplace. A row of knick knacks interspersed with framed photos sit on the mantle. Some are his figures from Hellfire and you delicately touch a fingertip to the top of each one until you reach a photo in a frame made from popsicle sticks.
It’s a picture of you and him—one of the few in existence. You think you must be six or seven based on his buzzed haircut and your braces. Instinctively, you run your tongue over the front of your teeth, almost expecting to feel the thick metal wires there. Eddie moves silently to stand at your side and peers over your shoulder at the picture now held in your hand.
The two of you are at Forest Hills, sitting on top of the dome climber across from he and Wayne’s trailer. You must have spent all summer on that thing, pretending it was a deserted island where you’d been marooned after refusing to marry the merchant sailor your evil father had betrothed you to. The picnic table nearby played the role of Eddie’s pirate ship where he spotted you climbing to the top of the island’s mountain to signal for help. He would oblige, rowing an imaginary smaller boat to your island and bravely scaling the mountainside to sit beside you at the top. He offered you passage on his ship as a member of his crew, assuring you it would be hard work but that your new life would be filled with riches like the freedom to sail the seas and explore worlds unknown you could not even imagine.
Wayne must have interrupted your epic play to snap this photo. Eddie is in his signature pose. He’s got his hands raised to the sides of his head, fingers pointed to resemble horns and his tongue flicked out with his eyes wide and wild. You’re not even looking at the camera, enamored gaze unable to tear away from him.
“It’s like you had a crush on me or something,” Eddie says teasingly.
“Yeah, clearly I wasn’t hiding it as well as I thought I was.”
You chuckle, but Eddie’s brow furrows and his voice loses that playful edge as he dips into pensiveness. He takes the frame from you and carefully places it back on the mantle.
“Did you really?” he asks. “Did you really like me all that time and I was too stupid to know?”
The question catches you off guard. You’d sort of just assumed he had to know that was the case, given how things had progressed between you, seemingly overnight. Well, overnight plus five years. It's the first time you’ve stopped to question what had inspired his pursuit.
“I’m not sure,” you say slowly. “At the time, I don’t think I knew the difference between how much I liked having you as my friend and how much I liked you. Eventually, I figured it out.”
You pause, summoning the strength to ask the question you’re dying to know. The one you’ve been wanting to ask practically your whole life.
“Did you ever think of me like that? I mean…before now?”
Sadness flickers in Eddie’s deep brown eyes and he takes a steadying breath. He moves into you, slipping his arms around your waist and holding you by the small of your back. You feel yourself tremble as he tucks his chin down and gently rests his forehead against your own.
“All the fucking time,” he whispers. “I liked you so much, but I…I couldn’t imagine you’d ever want me back. I guess I was too scared to find out.”
“Oh, Eddie,” you sigh mournfully. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he mutters. “Trailer park loser. Criminal. Freak. Who would want me?”
You shake your head at his disparaging words and overwrite them with your own. “Honest. Fearless. Kind. Trustworthy. Genius.”
A bashful smile spreads across Eddie’s face and he tries to look away, but you surprise yourself with your own boldness as your hand comes up to catch his face and turn it back towards you.
“I wanted you,” you confess softly. “I always have.”
He leans in and captures your lips with his. It steals every speck of breath from your lungs and you think you could fly apart into a million pieces if it wasn’t for his hands gripping your waist. It feels like the kiss goes on forever and yet it’s not nearly long enough. You instantly miss the feeling of his mouth when he pulls away, but he keeps his face close to yours.
“Sorry I wasted so much time,” Eddie whispers. “We could have been doing this all along.”
When dinner arrives, you guffaw at the array of food before you. It seems entirely possible he just ordered one of everything on the menu. You dutifully sample a little of each dish and have to resist stuffing your face full after one mouthful of this roasted duck Eddie asserted was the best thing they made. Delicious as it is, your nerves have made your stomach too jumpy to eat much and before long you’re helping Eddie box up the absurd amount of leftovers.
Guilt pangs in your chest thinking how much he must have spent, but Eddie chatters excitedly about how it only gets better the longer the flavors have to sit and meld together.
“Are you sure?” you ask, handing him the last container.
“Absolutely,” he says as he pushes the fridge closed. “You can take some home with you, too.”
His hand finds the small of your back as you walk back into the living room. His touch is gentle and reassuring as you head to the couch, but it does little to quell your nerves.
“How about a movie?” he asks. “Steve brings home a bunch of different stuff. We’ve got some horror, some comedy…”
There’s a knot in your stomach as he bends in front of their entertainment center, rifling through the rentals piled up next to their VCR. The lingerie under your clothes rubs raw against your skin as you shift in your seat on the couch, threatening you with the stinging humiliation of wearing it all night long only to never be seen.
What if he’s changed his mind? What if he doesn’t want to anymore? What if he thinks you don’t want to? Is there some signal you should be giving him? Some move you should be making? Ears now ringing, you clear your throat and he glances back at you over his shoulder.
“Maybe later?” you say softly.
Eddie smiles and nods in agreement before returning to his spot on the couch. He sinks down next to you and lays his arm across the back of the cushions. His eyes stay fixed on your face, taking in every inch. It makes your breath catch as you study him back, his features as mesmerizing as always.
You hurl yourself at him, realizing just a second too late his head is dipping down to kiss you at the same time. His face knocks against yours and you wince as you pull back, a dull aching where his chin connected with your cheek.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter frantically. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he laughs. “No permanent damage.”
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely,” he says, his head tilting to the side.
He reaches out a hand and cups it against the side of your face, his thumb stroking your jaw. You have to resist the urge to ask again if he’s sure, he’s sure. You know you ask it too often. It’s not even conscious at this point, it just comes out. Are you sure? Are you sure?
“Hey…are you okay?” he asks. “You’re shaking.”
“Yeah, I-I’m sorry,” you stammer out your response, heart still pounding in your chest. “I don’t know, I thought maybe I was supposed to like…make a move.”
Eddie’s brows raise and smiles impishly. “What kind of move?”
“Like a…a hook up move.”
Eddie chuckles, his dimples deepening in his cheeks as he scoots closer and leans in so close you can feel the warmth coming off his skin and smell the light, fresh scent of his aftershave.
“How about you let me worry about the moves?”
You inhale sharply, his words zinging straight to your core and making you squirm in your seat from the need to be closer to him. His eyes flit down to see your thighs pressing together and a knowing smile curls up the corners of his mouth. His beautiful, perfect mouth…
He helps you climb onto his lap and wraps his arms tight around your waist, squeezing you against him. He stares up at you, the tip of his nose bumping against the bridge of yours and then mashing into the softness of your cheek as his lips cover your own.
The kiss ignites everything inside of you. Years and years of built up feelings for the boy beneath you begin to smolder—a pile of kindling finally stoked into a flame.
Experimentally, you shift your hips and begin to rock back and forth in a slow, deep grind. You can feel the effect you have on him in his stilted breath and the prodding of the hardness growing in his jeans. He kisses his way along your jaw and when his lips ghost over a sensitive spot on your neck just behind your ear, you give an involuntary thrust forward.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, tightening his already firm grip on you. “Do that again…”
You oblige him happily. Enthralled by the need in his voice and spurred by his gritty tone, you grind down on him again and squeeze your thighs around his hips. A strained gasp bursts from his lips and he fumbles to grip the back of your neck and hold your mouth against his.
He’s wearing another button up tonight, dark hunter green this time that sets off the rich brown hue of his eyes. Your fingers find the hem of his shirt and begin to unbutton it from the bottom, revealing inch by inch the clingy white tank underneath. It does little to nothing to conceal the solid muscled form of his chest and it makes your heart pound imagining it bare. But sitting down, there was still that soft roundness to his belly you’d always liked. It made you want to scratch him like he was a stray mutt from the junkyard, scraggly and carefree.
When the last button is pulled open, you help him shrug off his shirt, revealing corded arm muscles that twitch and flex as he reaches out to wrap you back up in his arms.
“God, Eddie, I need you—please.”
Your voice is plaintive and desperate in a way it’s never been before. He groans into your neck and you feel your hips take on a life of their own. The seam of your jeans catches perfectly on your clit and the feeling makes you rock harder, sliding back and forth on his lap and despising every single layer of clothing separating you.
“Hang on, hang on,” he pants, breathless as he sits up and slips his hands up your back to hold you in place. A chill runs down your spine and you sit back on his thighs, body going rigid.
“What is it? D-did I do something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” he laughs, his pale cheeks tinging pink with embarrassment. “But if you keep that up, I’m gonna come in my fucking jeans.”
Heat rises in your own face, his words filling you with a mix of excitement and shyness. And you know he has to be able to feel how it causes you to flutter. He smooths his hands firmly up and down your back, bringing one of them up to the nape of your neck and beginning to massage your hairline with his fingertips.
“How about we…slow down a little?” he asks, his voice gentle but still husky with need.
You nod wordlessly and let your eyelids drift closed, rolling your head into his strong fingers as they continue rubbing your neck. Shivers ripple down your back and your mouth falls open with relief when he finds a knot in your shoulder and presses down on it. A heavy, resonating moan releases from deep in your chest and you immediately stiffen.
Panicking at the realization the practically pornographic sound you just heard came out of you, you slap your palm over your mouth and stare wide-eyed at Eddie. He just smiles.
“Don’t hide it, sweetheart,” he hums. “I wanna hear you.”
He pulls your hand from your mouth, bringing it to his own instead. Warm lips and hot breath caress your fingers and the pad of your thumb brushes over the impossibly soft skin of his lip. You tug it down gently, letting it spring back up.
“Your moans are so pretty,” he sighs. “Will you make some more for me?”
The words are lilting like he’s writing lyrics for a song. He looks up at you with those pleading eyes and you bury yourself in the crook of his neck, hiding your face in his curls. His lips and teeth nip at the skin behind your ear, causing you to release breathy sighs and moans just for him. He shivers beneath you and the evidence of his pleasure throbs, unable to be ignored.
Your mouth seeks his blindly, messily, desperately. Your own hands slide up his chest and around the back of his neck, raking your fingers into his curls until the heels of your palms meet the base of his skull. Firmly and slowly gripping the hair close to his scalp, you guide him deeper into the kiss. He moans into your mouth and relaxes his whole body, giving you the control to put him exactly where you want him.
So much for slowing down, you think.
His hips suddenly jerk upwards, lifting you with him, and you moan again. It’s not as loud as before, but its enough to make your lips break from his. It all feels too good, too overwhelming. The anticipation is killing you now. You’ve spent your whole life waiting, you can’t waste another second. It’s time. It has to be. It’s now or never.
“Can I, um…freshen up?”
Eddie looks up at you with a dreamy expression, his eyes a little glazed and pink lips puffy from kissing. He nods down the hall to the door adjacent to his bedroom, his eyes never leaving you as you slip off his lap.
You don’t enter the bathroom, though.
Instead you push open the door to Eddie’s room and slip inside, leaving it just ajar enough to spark his curiosity. You place yourself at the end of his bed to wait for him, half sitting up leaning back on your elbows. The mattress dips as you sink into the softness—a far cry from the lumpy thing he slept on in Wayne’s trailer. Your heart races hearing the soft clinking of his belt as he comes down the hall and pushes the door fully open.
He leans against the frame and smiles.
Eddie looks at you like a kid on Christmas Eve—not feral and wide-eyed like he’s ready to tear through a mountain of presents in an early morning frenzy, but serene and reverent like he’s looking at the tree bathed in the soft glow of twinkle lights strung on its branches.
��Hi,” he whispers.
You smile and tuck your bottom lip behind your teeth. “Hi…”
He gently pushes the door closed behind him and moves towards you where you sit on the bed. But rather than climbing onto the mattress, he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you and rests his hands on the tops of your thighs.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, voice still hushed like he’s afraid this is a dream and you’ll twist into smoke if he speaks too loudly.
You nod back at him. “Me too.”
His hands move steadily up your thighs to your waist and he gathers your blouse to lift it gently over your head. Lit only by the lamp on his bedside table, the blue of your bra looks even more like the night sky and the light catches on the silvery threads, making the stars sparkle. Your whole body shivers with excitement as he takes you in, his eyes drawn to the swell of your breasts and your nipples standing rigid, pushing out from behind the unlined mesh.
“Fuck…”
His voice is soft. So soft, you think he might not even realize he spoke out loud. You smirk at him, a little disbelieving even as he sounds genuinely awestruck. His eyes dart back up to yours and he grins, chuckling with mirth at his own reaction.
“Sorry,” he says. “I just…you’re so…god, you’re gorgeous.”
Eyes falling to your breasts again, he reaches out to cup them gently and lets his thumbs brush over their stiff peaks. You hum softly at the feeling of him flicking your nipples with calloused pads worn that way from years of guitar playing. With a soft kiss, he continues on—his hands reluctant to leave them, but eager to touch you more places.
He slides them downward, relishing every inch of the curve of your waist until he finds the top of your jeans. “Do you want these off?” he asks, voice wavering slightly.
Your own breath is getting uneven itself as the beginning flames of nerves start to flicker and nip at your ankles. Eddie’s eyes parse your reaction, but you divert his attention by unbuttoning your fly and helping him shift your pants over your hips and down your legs. He tugs them off until they sit in a heap on the floor and he can take you in fully, the reveal of your matching set clearlying having the desired effect.
“Wow…” He stares, eyes soft with awe. His strong hand flexes to extend his fingers and he reaches out to gently stroke the navy material. “I like this a lot,” he says.
“That’s good,” you say, peering at him shyly. “I got it for you.”
His eyes light up at that, brows raising in disbelief. Not that he thinks you’re lying, but that he can’t possibly fathom how he got this lucky.
“Seriously?” he breathes. “No one’s ever…”
He clears his throat, trying to choke back the incoherent stream of words threatening to spill out of his mouth. And his mind scrambles to say something that doesn’t sound completely idiodic. He feels like a caveman seeing fire for the first time and trying to think of a word for it.
He’s just so fucking happy.
Cupping your face tenderly in his hands, thumbs brushing the apples of your cheeks, he gazes deep into your eyes. “You’re so special to me,” he says. “I want to be sure I do this right.”
“So far so good,” you whisper.
He’s left his button down in the living room, leaving him stripped down to only his white singlet. The muscles in his shoulders ripple as he lifts his arms and you whisk off his tank to unveil his bare chest. A couple new tattoos catch your eye. A black widow spider now sits over the demon head on his left pec, just beneath his collarbone. There’s a sword etched into his ribs and as you follow the point down, you spot two pale nicotine patches in the usual spot on his hip.
It makes your heart swell thinking of how he’d explained it that night you played pool. For when I’m really nervous, he’d said. It still seemed so silly that you could make him nervous.
“Can I kiss you more?” he asks.
You nod and close your eyes to wait for the feeling of his mouth on yours, only to gasp softly when he goes to your neck instead. His lips vibrate with a gentle groan as he kisses down the column of your throat, sucking at it lightly and listening to how it causes your breath to hitch when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. Shivers cascade down your back as he continues on his path, kissing over the mounds of your chest, down your belly, nudging your legs apart.
“Eddie, you don’t have to—ohhh…”
His mouth trails over your hip and they flex upwards, seeking more. He smooths his hands over your legs and every inch of your skin he touches buzzes with anticipation.
“Please, sweetheart?” he says, baring his teeth in a sinful smile from between your thighs. “Been dreaming about this so long…I just want to make you feel good.”
His lips ghost over your heat, the tip of his nose brushing against your sensitive button through the thin barrier of your underwear. Your breath hitches in your throat as he starts to slowly nod his head, giving a preview of the motions he’s dying to use on you. Warm, broad palms coast over your hips and ringed fingers curl around the elastic band circling your waist.
“Can I take these off?” he asks. “I want to see you.”
You hum a noise of approval, so dizzy with need you can’t even form a real word. He glides your panties down your legs, nails raking over your skin all the way down to your ankles. Fighting the urge to cringe at how exposed you feel, you bring your focus back to Eddie—back to his eyes and the way they drink you in. The tip of his tongue ekes out between his lips to wet them and he turns his head to make a path of delicate kisses along the inside of your calf.
You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, you chant internally. God, you want this so much.
Excitement pools in your belly and the feeling mixes with your nerves into a lethal cocktail. As he kisses up one leg, your other begins to tremble against his ear. You feel as though you’re about to float away and drift untethered into the ether.
“Eddie?”
His kisses pause at your knee joint and he looks up at you. “Yes, princess?”
“I…I need you closer,” you admit meekly.
He obliges instantly and slides up onto the bed, cradling your body against his. The hardness in his jeans prods against your side and you almost black out thinking how he could be inside you any minute now. Except Eddie seems perfectly content taking his time.
He skims his fingers from your navel up your sternum, relishing every quiver of your body. His touch follows the graceful lines of your collarbone and neck up to your jaw. With his other arm under you, head resting securely in the crook of his elbow, he traces more of your outline.
At last he begins his descent, teasingly light touch weaving back and forth across your tummy in swirling patterns down to your mound. He tenderly spreads you apart and strokes your center, fingertips brushing ever so gently over your clit. His eyes stay fixed on your face as he applies more pressure, seeking your reaction.
“That feel good?” he asks, his breath warm on your cheek.
“Yes,” you gasp softly. “Keep going.”
With a little more intention, he dips a finger into your entrance and his chest rumbles with a moan. “You’re so wet,” he whispers. “Is that all for me?”
You can’t answer, your eyes falling closed and your head tipping back—almost wanting to cry because it feels so good in a way it never has. He slides further inside, gently massaging your warm, wet walls. With his thumb pressing on your clit in time with his thrusts, he adds another finger, stretching you open further. Your pussy positively blooms for him, enveloping his fingers and taking him in eagerly.
“Oh, god, Eddie…”
“That’s it, beautiful,” he husks, his digits expertly curling inside of you as his thumb swirls outside. He lowers his voice further, a heated whisper in your ear. “I wanna hear you come…”
His voice sends a jolt straight to your core, but the words cause your mind and body to diverge. You try to stay present. You try not to dwell on it, but his statement echoes. It fills your head and ricochets around the inside of your skull, taking over everything. That’s when you feel it.
Suddenly, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing down there or how good it felt just moments ago. That rigidness you know all too well permeates your body and stills everything—a boulder at the bottom of a frozen lake kind of stillness. You can’t believe you let this happen. You can’t believe you’re ruining this. You can’t believe how stupid you were for thinking it would be any different. Your heart races, pounding like a battering ram behind your ribcage like it’s trying to burst out.
“Eddie,” you croak. “Eddie, stop!”
He pulls back immediately, his eyes round with concern at the sudden panicked tone in your voice. He stares at you, his own expression descending into remorse.
“Shit, shit, I’m sorry,” he says. “Does it…did it not feel good?”
“No, no, it—I mean, yes, it did, I just…”
Your chest gets unbearably tight, the pressure crushing your windpipe. You try to inhale, but it feels more like sucking air through a pinhole. You sit up, hands fumbling for the sheets to cover yourself. Your whole body is on fire. Blistering, burning, searing pain replacing every speck of the pleasure you’d been feeling. And Eddie…poor Eddie is looking at you like he’s about to cry.
“Hey,” he soothes, timidly reaching to touch your knee. “Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know,” you gasp, still struggling to get air and failing. “I-I-I feel…”
“It’s alright,” he says, voice steady but urgent. “Look at me, yeah? Take a deep breath in and blow it out quick like you’re blowing out a birthday candle? Okay? Do it with me.”
He locks eyes with you as he demonstrates, sucking in a breath and holding it in his chest until you do the same. Once you have, he blows out a big puff of air and begins breathing steadily in through his nose and out though his mouth. You mimic him, remaining held by those deep brown pools until you feel your heart rate slow and finally steady.
“That’s good,” he says, shifting so he can rub his hand in wide circles across your back. “You’re doing so good, just keep going.”
You can’t decide if he’s patronizing you, praising you for breathing of all things. But his words are calming regardless and his hand on your back has a comforting weight to it. He keeps up with rubbing small circles across your back until you swallow hard and open your mouth to speak.
“I have to tell you something,” you say.
“Okay. What is it?”
“I can’t, um…I’m not going to…I don’t…finish.”
He frowns, brow furrowing as they knit together. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been able to get there. And I-I guess I panicked. I didn’t want you to spend all this time on it when it’s not going to happen.”
“Oh,” he exhales softly. “So…never?”
You shake your head, hugging your knees to your chest. “No,” you sniff. “Never.”
“But what about with Carl? You guys were together for like years.”
“Yeah, but he never…” You sigh and pinch your eyes closed. “I mean, I never—”
“He never made you come?”
Shame radiates in your chest like heartburn and you feel the sting of tears that threaten to spill over your eyelids. “I know, okay?” you whimper. “It’s humiliating.”
“No, no! That’s not what I meant. I mean, it should be humiliating for him. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t see how,” you shrug. “It’s not your food’s fault for being cold if the microwave is busted.”
“You’re not busted,” Eddie insists. “He’s got to try. He should have helped you get there.”
“He did try. We’d have sex and it would feel fine, but we’d always get to this point where I knew it wasn’t gonna happen. And it…it was just easier to get him taken care of.”
“But what about with his fingers? Or his mouth? Or a toy?”
Your face burns at the memory of similar past conversations. Bringing up things you thought seemed obvious only resulted in Carl feeling insulted, like you were saying his dick wasn't enough for you.
“It, um…it took too long.”
“What’s too long?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble. “It felt like an eternity. And I’d get all wrapped up in my head kind of…kind of like I did just now. And it didn’t make sense to waste all that time—”
“It’s not a waste of time,” Eddie scoffs. “Did he actually say that to you?”
Anger flashes briefly in his eyes and you quickly shake your head. It was true, Carl never outright called it that. He just didn’t disagree with you when you apologized for taking so long. And when you started to feel him getting tired and frustrated, it only added to your stress.
��How about like…on your own?”
“I mean, I-I’ve tried.” You look down again, your body still prickling as you try to answer without crying. “I don’t know why, but I can’t relax? I start thinking about, like, f I’m doing it right or if I’m doing it wrong. And I wind up laying there for hours trying and I feel like such a failure. Like I can’t experience this thing everyone else can and I don’t think I ever will.”
A dark, wet splotch appears on his sheets as a tear falls from your eye. You brush furiously at your cheek, smearing the trail it left behind.
“I guess I get close. I think? I don’t know, it feels good up to a point, and it feels kind of, vaguely, like something, but then it just starts to hurt and ache. And I guess that could be it, but…like, the way people talk about it? I can’t imagine what I feel is what they’re referring to. You know?”
Eddie’s head hangs low. His expression churns with a myriad of emotions like he can’t decide which one to feel. Sadness for you. Anger at Carl. Disappointment with himself.
“I’m so sorry,” you sigh. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Furiously, you wish you’d just faked it. How hard would it have been to breathe sort of heavy and writhe around a little bit? It would have been worth it to avoid all this. But even as you’re thinking that, something tells you Eddie never would have bought it. He was too attentive, too attuned to any shift of your mood, of your body. He would have seen right through you.
“Don’t apologize,” he says calmly. “I’m glad you told me, I just…I wish I’d known. I wouldn’t have rushed you. I wouldn’t have said that…”
He hangs his head again and rubs his hand across the back of his neck. You sneak a glance at him, the sadness in his eyes that you caused making your heart ache. This is all your fault, you think. You don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve anyone.
“I, um…I’m gonna get out of here,” you say quietly, scooting towards the other side of the bed. Eddie’s head jerks up at your movement.
“Wait, what?”
“I should just leave, I’m…I’m really sorry.”
“Hang on, hang on, don’t go—” He lurches forward, reaching for your waist to stop you and then abruptly pulling back when he realizes what he’s doing. It breaks your heart a little, the look in his eyes like he’s afraid to touch you now. Again.
“Eddie, it’s okay—”
“It’s not okay,” he says. “Please stay? This is my fault, I shouldn’t have pushed so fast, I was just excited for you to stay over. And I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It was,” you say solemnly. “It is, I mean. I do want this. I’ve wanted this for so long, I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me and now I’ve ruined the whole night.”
“No, no, not at all.” Eddie shakes his head emphatically. He lifts his hands and cups your face, calloused thumbs rubbing the smoothness of your cheeks. “Absolutely nothing is wrong with you,” he says. “You’re perfect. The only thing that could ruin tonight is you leaving.”
“Are you sure?” you rasp.
He smiles and chuckles at your refrain. “How about from now on, you assume when I say something—anything—it means I’m sure?”
“But are you…” You catch yourself mid sentence. “…certain?”
Eddie rolls his eyes at you and chuckles as your lips finally quirk into a small smile. “I’ll give you that one,” he says begrudgingly. “But no more.”
You give a reluctant nod and he grins.
“And yes, I’m very certain,” he says. “I bought all these snacks for breakfast. And I found this little basket we can put them in. I thought maybe we could drive out to the lake and read like we used to? And then go to that diner way outside of town? With the great milkshakes?”
Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks again, but now it’s from happiness burgeoning in your chest. “That sounds really nice,” you whisper.
He grins back at you.
“Okay, then. I tell you what…why don’t we table all this for right now? Neither of us is gonna make any moves for the rest of the night. We’re going to get in comfy clothes and watch TV, or smoke, or play cards, or talk…whatever you want. And whenever you’re ready, we can go to bed.”
Reactively, your shoulders stiffen and his eyes go wide.
“No, no, no! I didn’t mean—” He slaps his hand to his forehead and sighs at his own flub. “I meant sleep. I…I really just want to sleep next to you. And wake up with you in the morning. And spend the rest of the day together. Is that okay?”
He gives you those eyes again, round and open and vulnerable. Hopeful. It makes it easy to nod at him with a gentle smile. Because it’s more than okay, it sounds perfect. He smiles back and reaches for your hand. You let him lift it to his lips and his breath is warm as he kisses your fingers.
“I just want you here,” he murmurs to your knuckles.
You bite your lip to stop the Are you sure? already queued up on your tongue. Eddie lifts off the bed and pulls a pair of sweatpants and a clean t-shirt from one of the drawers in his dresser. The fresh smell of his detergent wafts towards your nose and you inhale it deeply.
“I’ll change in the bathroom,” he says. “Just come back to the living room when you’re ready.”
Still smiling as he leans over you with ease, balancing on his fists pressing down into the mattress, he kisses you. It’s not a messy or desperate snog, but not quite a chaste peck either. It’s deep and yearning. Full of wanting, but asks for nothing.
He heads into the hall and his bedroom door clicks as he pulls it shut behind him. When you hear the bathroom door also click closed, you creep out from beneath his sheet and reach for the panties bunched up at the foot of the bed. You strip off the matching bra and stuff the pair into the bottom of your overnight bag. To replace them, you exhume a simple gray pajama set of an oversized shirt and loose, flowy shorts. The light material is cool against your skin, soothing for the first time the existential itchiness that had consumed you all night.
In the living room, Eddie sits on the sofa, comfortable and casual as can be in his soft sweats. There’s not a speck of disappointment or frustration on his handsome face as he flips through the channels. His mouth splits into a grin when he sees you, eyes dancing as he takes you in, just as dazzled by the sight of you in plain pajamas as he was by your lingerie.
He pats the cushion next to him and jerks his chin up to beckon you over. From the TV, the eerie tinkling theme of The Twilight Zone begins to play and you all but scamper over to the couch. He chuckles as you pad across the carpet and nestle into his side, folding your legs under you.
He reaches behind your head to pull down the knit blanket draped over the back of the sofa and proceeds to tuck it securely around you both. “Comfy?” he asks, still smiling down at you.
You nod and his arm curls securely around your shoulder. It rests there naturally, like it’s the one place in the world it’s always been meant to be. “Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, stretching your neck to press your lips against his.
“Of course. Anything for you, sweetheart.”
His voice is tender and rumbly and you can feel his chest vibrate with the words as you lay your head against him. The softness of his t-shirt on your cheek and the warmth of his skin you can feel through it fills you with contentment. You mold yourself into his side, already thinking how nice it will be when you inevitably fall asleep right here. Right where you belong. Eddie’s head dips and he rests his cheek on the top of your head as he begins to recite along with the narrator, “You’re traveling through another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination…”
Thank you for reading/interacting - love you, mean it (◕‿◕)
tags: @vintagehellfire @mygirlchaos @autumnleagues @valerievortex
631 notes
·
View notes
Text

in anticipation for his birthday, here’s the one i made 3 years ago 🎂
#im surprised i never posted this!#my art#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanart#nanami kento#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#nobara kugisaki#i get very sentimental thinking about this drawing in particular#as cheesy and cringe as it is gojo is very special to me#i just dont talk about him as much but he was what got me into jjk
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Ratatouille would have been a better and potentially much more interesting story if Remy had partnered with Collette instead of Linguini. Two underdogs with talent and passion forced to maintain a dangerous ruse. Fiercely independent Collette giving up temporary control of her body to a creature who, despite the insanity of a rat wanting to cook professionally, she can relate to on a personal level and who she does want to teach. The inner conflict of wondering if Remy’s growing talents are eclipsing her own, if the praise their food is earning belongs more to him than to her. Her guilt over feeling resentment and jealousy towards this little guy who wouldn’t have a hope of realizing his talents if not for her trust and protection. Both of them unraveling the mystery of that sweet but bumbling kitchen boy with the obvious crush on Collette being Gusteau’s secret son, and working together to thwart the new evil owner’s plans to stop Linguini from claiming his birthright. The message of the movie not being this weird, almost smug “some people are born with talent, some people aren’t, and that’s how being a ~great artist~ works”, but something more like, “if you have a dream, you deserve to pursue it, and be supported and encouraged in your pursuit of it, even if other people tell you that, because of some intrinsic aspect of yourself or the circumstances you were born in (like being a human woman in the restaurant industry, or being a literal rat), you have no place pursuing this dream. Also, raw talent can only get you so far, and skill and passion existing in the right balance is key.” I’ve been thinking about this for seventeen years. I’m breaking my silence
#when I first watched this movie the moment near the end where Collette makes ratatouille and Remy rejects it outright#and makes his own super special beautiful version that everyone loves#even though Collette was the one who turned him into the cook he became and taught him everything#it felt kind of mean to me? like mean as a story choice. like ohh sure he needed her help before#but he’s this special little genius so now her skills aren’t presented as impressive or even worthwhile anymore#catie talks
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
when the 𝑓(𝑥) = 𝑎𝑥³ + 𝑏𝑥² + 𝑐𝑥 + 𝑑 😋
#bloodborne#micolash host of the nightmare#decadentart#Hello Again Ugly. Ew#actual title of piece is ‘function’#nothing rlly special just kinda playing around . this wasnt the original idea. was originally gonna have a bit more . Moths#saving that for latterrr :)#For those curious#it tooks mw like. 20 mins to get a good looking graph on demos. i hate math. UAGH#working on more art of this guy btw. he really makes me sick#this is kind of a quick scribble tbhh cuz . uah. inspiration struck hard randomly
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
HOT, SINGLE, UNSTUDIED SPONGES. 3000 NAUTICAL MILES AWAY. Come sail the distance and read Tiger Tiger!
#tiger tiger#ludovica bonnaire#remy bonnaire#jamis arlesi#This comic has been on my radar for *years* and I only recently - finally - sat down to read it. And by god is it amazing.#I don't want to spoil anything! But if you like amazing art and character writing *and* high seas adventure? READ TIGER TIGER.#If you asked my who my favourite character is I could not tell you. I truly like them all!!!#I even like the sleezeball who has less charm than a dead rat. He's *my* darling little rat man. With every disease.#A special shout out to my lad (he is the lad of all time) Jamis Arlesi.#Who - upon walking into frame makes me go 'Sir! Is your bosom too heavy? Do you need a new bra? My hands are free on Thursdays!'#And Ludo! My lass! I love her dearly! Every page made me more fond of her.#Book smart and uses it in very good ways! Naive enough to think it is all she needs! Learns a lot and stays kind through the horrors!#I could go on and on but...you...the person reading this...you *are* going to read it - aren't you?#So I'd hate to spoil you any more! Go read Tiger Tiger! Do it! For the sea sponges!#Rumour has it they are also freshly divorced. It was messy. Sea sponge needs a distraction. That could be you. Distracting that sponge.#You wont know until you click that link and start reading!
5K notes
·
View notes