#muses as babies

[lleann-art]

yamaguchi doodles

[tiafrye]

For Bloodweave reasons I'm posting them together.

The forbidden fruit of referencing from VAs has consumed me.

[physical-manifestation-of-spite]

Took me three hours to find a fanfic where the main character has any other emotion outside of bone-crushing fear for the other characters to sympathize over

[goddess-of-graphite]

thinking about how you could combine the “ghosts fight socially” and “strongest ghosts make the rules” with the “Danny is a baby ghost and needs a ghostly guardian/parent” and I have decided that it’s “if you can defeat and then keep the baby contained then it is now yours” and thats why Danny’s experiences with ghosts are Like That

[wienners]

"dude its not that embarassing to rewatch some creepypasta stuff you liked as a teenager" the character i imprinted on like a baby duck at 16 was a demon from new jersey that acts like the humanization of every offspring song and canonically listens to scissor sisters. His favorite color is purple and his favorite pokemon is gengar. He leaves people notes with emojis on them. He acts like a beetlejuice scare actor at halloween horror nights. His catchphrase is "feeling sassy?" Hes (allegedly) worked with every war criminal throughout history and been every serial killer. even the gay ones. he ate a baby. his animal motif is a rabbit. hes kind of based off donnie darko. he almost exclusively wears merchandise of the Quentin Tarantino movie Death Proof. he talks to his cats in a baby voice. he wears a white fedora that makes every video he wears it in feel dated by like 7 years. hes 5'3. he hacked a girls tumblr blog. he added a laugh track over a video of him killing people. he named a chainsaw rex. he torments people by playing frank sinatra at them. his name comes from an animal collective song. theres a canon blog entry where he makes the speakers blare rob zombie before he enters a room, then holds a guy at gunpoint to describe what he did to to him while "making sure to leave in all the cool parts". Hes like ten tumblr sexymen traits rolled into one. His actor has gone on record saying heath ledgers joker inspired his acting choices. Sometimes his voice gets distorted and it makes him sound like bill ciphers first year on HRT. Hes basically like my artistic muse. For some fucking reason i associate the song cake by the ocean with him. I firmly believe that if everymanhybrid didn't require a masters degree in creepypasta autism to comprehend, he would've caused more teenage stabbings than the slenderman incident and more kin war tumblr scenarios than nagito komaeda.

[jkvjimin]

I love you babe I’ll come closer to you PARK JIMIN - smeraldo garden marching band (2024)

+bonus:

[myvirtuesuncounted]

defending ca$h is not enough, i need a gun

[kikithecorgi]

I love him sm he’s pretty. Gravity falls has me by the throat rn

[s0fthunny]

dolliest eyed angel face!!

[coochiekrab]

my period started and i have hardcore baby fever rn so bless u for all the baby and kid pics recently im so in love with freak thang and the lebeubies 🙏🙏🙏💕💕

does this help

[mctwinkdom]

them 🫶

[sioneve]

"You're still annoying to this day!" "And you're still as small as ever" *arguing while holding hands*

IT'S BEEN A WHILE.... SINCE I DREW NICOMAKI...... THIS MONTH GONNA ME A NICOMAKI MONTH...... JUST WAIT..........

Nico gave her 3rd year tie ribbon to maki but maki already bought like 10 spares (rich people problems) but she still use nico's _(´ཀ`」 ∠)… heheheheheh AAAAAAAAAAAA NICOMAKI OM NOM NOM NOM %$^$%&^&%^& GAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Trivia: nicomaki height difference is 7 cm (161 & 154 cm) but i had this headcanon where maki grew 2 cm more in the future (Goodbye nico)

[notthecity]

if you don’t love me at my mania then you don’t deserve me at my so much (for) stardust

[bericas]

sceo weekend 2024 (day 3) → on the road

it might not be long, but baby, I'll love you 'til the day that I die.

[estrellami-1]

Never Forgot

Based on this post.

Steve knew something was wrong when she ran out of the room, choking back tears.

He felt bad, felt like there was something missing, but he didn’t remember her. Thinking about it, he realized he didn’t really remember anything.

“Robin?” Dustin asked when she all but ran out of the hospital room.

She stifled a sob and collapsed onto the bench next to him, holding a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Dustin, he… he doesn’t remember me.”

Dustin took a deep breath and very carefully did not freak out. “Okay. You stay here, I’ll go talk to him. See if we can shake it loose or something.” He rolled his eyes at the look she gave him. “Not literally, Buckley, jeez. Keep your pants on.”

He squared his shoulders and walked into the hospital room. Steve looked fine, if tired—hospital lighting never did anyone any favors—but the absent smile he sent Dustin spoke volumes. “Hi,” he said quietly, stilted in a way he never was anymore. Not with Dustin. “Um, can you apologize to her for me? She seemed really upset and I’m not sure what I did but I think it’s my fault.”

Dustin sighed and sat in the chair by Steve’s hospital bed. “You really don’t remember her, huh.” It wasn’t a question, so Steve didn’t answer. “And I’m guessing you don’t remember me, either?”

Steve picked at the blanket on his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus fuck,” Dustin whispered, screwing his eyes shut. “Don’t apologize, Jesus, it’s not your fault. It just… sucks.”

Steve snorted. “Imagine waking up and only remembering one person.”

Dustin looked up at him sharply. “One person?”

Steve shrugged. “Guess I’d be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I didn’t, yeah.”

“Boyfriend?” Dustin blinked. “Steve, you’re not dating anyone.”

Steve frowned. “I am. Maybe you don’t know him? Eddie? Eddie Munson?”

“Eddie- Christ, Steve, of course I know Eddie, and you two aren’t dating. You’re, like, as straight as they come.”

“No- no, I am, I’m dating him, I’m- we’re-”

“Whoa, okay, hold up, calm down,” Dustin said, holding his hands out. “It’s fine, dude, okay, we’ll figure it out later but I don’t think you should be stressing this hard after just waking up.”

Steve hummed. “What, uh. What actually happened to me?”

Dustin sighed. “The doctors said your body essentially performed a hard reset. You’ve been running on fumes for too long. You collapsed from sheer exhaustion. At least you didn’t hit your head this time, though maybe that would’ve prevented you from losing your memory, so who fuckin’ knows.”

“Language,” Steve chided, then blinked when Dustin looked at him excitedly. “I don’t know where that came from.”

Dustin just laughed. It was only a little forced. “You’re just incapable of not being a mom.”

——————————

Robin went back in next, lightly tapping Dustin’s shoulder as she passed him in the doorway. He shook his head, and her heart sank. “He-” Dustin shook his head, bit his lip. “He thinks he and Eddie are dating. Eddie’s the only person he remembers.”

Robin gave him a little half-smile. “He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while. I didn’t realize it was this bad, but.” She shrugged. “I’ll talk to him. You call everyone else?”

“Yeah.”

She took a deep breath and walked into the room. “So,” she started. “You really don’t remember?”

Steve shook his head, eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry. I wish I did.”

“Dustin said you remember one person?”

“Mhm. Eddie.”

“Right. And you and Eddie? What are you?”

Steve frowned even deeper. “Boyfriends. If we’re this close, shouldn’t you know that?”

Robin shrugged. “I’d like to think so. That’s why Dustin and I aren’t convinced you are dating. Maybe your memories are just… really vivid daydreams.”

“You really think so?”

Robin sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to think, Steve. Hell, I didn’t even know how bad it was until you collapsed. Some soulmate I am.”

“With a capital P,” Steve said, holding up a hand before Robin could say anything. “Sometimes certain memories are triggered. It’s… like a puzzle piece slotting into place. But I’ve got about a million more pieces missing. I can’t see what that specific piece connects to.”

Robin hums. “Okay. So you remember Eddie. And if I say Hellfire..?” Steve just frowned. “Or… Metallica?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I know that one.”

“Did you know that before I said it?”

Steve nodded. “Hellfire’s related to Eddie?”

Robin chuckled. “You could say that.”

“What is it?”

She laughed again. “I think I’ll let your boyfriend explain that one.”

“Even though you don’t believe we’re dating.”

Robin spread her hands. “Soulmates with a capital P, Steve. I can’t think of any reason you wouldn’t at least tell me. Especially since you know—err, knew—I’m a lesbian.”

Steve frowned. “Maybe Eddie didn’t want to? Does he know?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.” He frowned again. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “I’m not asking you to have all the answers. Especially now. Just… think about it, yeah?”

“I will,” he promised. “Um. Are you okay?”

“Jesus, Steve.” Robin laughed. It was only mostly hysterical. “Of course you’d still be thinking about everyone else. I’m fine. Or- I will be. You just take care of yourself, dingus.”

He chuckled. “Will do, Robbie.”

She sighed. “Another puzzle piece?” He nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go track down Dustin and see where he’s at with all the other ankle-biters.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” She lingered for a half-second, then sighed again and walked out.

——————————

He was released two days later. Drove himself home, Robin in the passenger seat and Dustin in the back row. Dustin quizzed him about the rest of the Party the whole way home, made sure Steve knew their names forwards, backwards and upside down, as well as what everyone was like. “Max is kickass,” he said. “Like, she’ll absolutely smile in your face as she knees you in the balls. And it’s the kinda smile that strikes fear into a man. She’s awesome. And-”

“Okay,” Steve said, amused. He didn’t know how Dustin could go that long without a breath. “I’ll know what you’re talking about as soon as we get out of the car and get inside, right?”

Dustin yelped when he looked up to see them parked before scrambling out the door and running inside.

Steve grinned at Robin, who grinned back, before they made their way inside, albeit at a slower pace than Dustin had.

Steve vaguely recognized everybody, but his attention focused in on a very specific person. “Eds.”

Eddie smiled, small and soft and sweet, one of Steve’s favorites. “Heya, Stevie.”

Suddenly he couldn’t help himself. He had to be with Eddie, right then, it couldn’t wait, so he didn’t. Practically flung himself at Eddie, like he knew Eddie would catch him (he did). Attaches his mouth to Eddie’s, a silent promise, I never forgot you, flowing between them.

When they pulled back, Eddie stared at him like he’d hung the fucking sun. “You remember?” Eddie asked in a whisper.

“Never forgot,” Steve promised, at the same volume.

“What. The actual. Fuck,” Robin said. Eddie and Steve froze as they turned to face her and the rest of the Party, who were all staring with the same expression.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered. “We forgot to tell Robin.”

[toomuchracket]

melted ice (dad birthday party!matty x reader smut)

temp play for day 1 of summer75. really, what else is there to do on a summer evening after your daughter's gone to sleep, other than make a cocktail with your husband and let him go down on you? enjoy <3

matty's arms are warm when they wrap around your waist. his lips are even warmer when they meet your neck, eliciting a smile from your face as you continue to concentrate on measuring the gin you're pouring. “hi, baby,” you murmur, transferring the alcohol into one of the crystal whisky tumblers you got as a wedding present. “amy all tucked in?”

“kicked the covers off in her sleep as soon as i pulled them over her, but yeah,” your husband laughs softly into you, kissing your skin again before resting his chin on your shoulder. “what are we drinking tonight, darling?”

“negronis.”

“nice,” matty's smile is audible. he unwraps himself from you, and you mourn the loss of him instantly. “i'll get the ice. do we need prosecco too, or…?”

you shake your head. “nah. i think we keep it classic tonight, if that's alright with you.”

“‘course. oh!” matty gasps, and you turn in concern; he's smiling, though, and holding up a ziploc bag filled with dried blood oranges. “can tart the drinks up a bit with these, though, yeah?”

you giggle. “i love you.”

he grins, wandering over to you with the fruit in one hand and a tray of ice cubes in the other before pecking your lips. “love you more.”

“that's impossible, you know.”

matty scoffs, delicately dropping ice cubes and orange slices into your respective cocktails and sliding one to you. “no, it's not.”

you roll your eyes as you take a sip of your negroni, matty matching you with his own. “it is impossible - oh, fuck, that's good - matthew. i love you so much. you can't possibly love me more than i love you.”

“come on, sweetheart - christ, that is nice,” your husband smacks his lips appreciatively, laying his glass down and tugging you into him. close enough to see yourself reflected in those beautiful eyes your daughter inherited, the grey is visible not only in his hair but in the day-old stubble decorating his pretty face, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't turned on by how sexily distinguished he looks. “but yeah. you're talking nonsense, darling. please stop.”

a smirk. “make me.”

another in return. “gladly.”

matty's hands find home on your jaw, tender as always, and cold from the cocktail glass in a way that sends a burst of adrenaline right through you. but that's nothing compared to the feeling when his lips meet yours, flavoured from the negroni and just as iced - the butterflies that have lived in your stomach since your first ever kiss with matty have awoken from their dormancy, the beating of their wings matching pace with your heart and blooming a trail of goosebumps across your body. all rational thought in your brain is clouded over by sheer want for your husband; actually, all thought in general has been replaced by a constant loop of his name, his face, his lips, just him in general.

you sigh happily. matty takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your parted lips, his grasp on your face tightening slightly as he does. in response, your hand slides into his curls and latches on, and the moan he lets out in response floods heat into your cheeks, your underwear, and the night itself - despite it being july, it's not a particularly warm night, but kissing matty could make even a december midnight in svalbard feel as sultry as it seems now.

he's dazed when he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes wild and hair messy and chest heaving. you're sure you must look a million times worse than he does, but matty still looks at you like you're the most exquisite thing he's ever seen, thumbs stroking your cheek as he beams. “hi.”

“hi,” you reply, breathily, eagerly, lovingly, elbows resting on his shoulders; his hands settle on your hips, familiar. “that was nice.”

“yeah,” matty kisses you again quickly, humming happily. “we should have these drinks more. your lips make them taste better.”

“i'm up for that,” you huff out a laugh, cheeks warming under your husband's adoring gaze. “i like the way your lips feel, all cold from the ice. like it a lot.”

you don't miss the way matty's eyes light up at that, nor the way his hands (likely subconsciously) travel to rest on your arse. “s'that so, my girl?”

“yeah.”

matty smiles, scooping you up effortlessly and sitting you on the counter. you open your legs and he slots between them, a well-practiced routine, before kissing you softly and murmuring against your lips. “d'you trust me, darling?”

excitement thrums in the pit of your stomach as you nod enthusiastically. “implicitly.”

“good girl,” matty leans sideways to reach for something while you preen at the praise. he returns with a fresh ice cube, already starting to drip in his hands - relatable, you think - and holds it to his lips. “can i kiss you again?”

oh.

shuffling forward on the countertop, you nod. “yes please.”

he beams at you, free hand caressing your jaw. “sweet girl.”

before you can reply, the ice cube is in his mouth, and his lips are on yours again. you whimper into him at the coldness, but it's deliciously erotic - when your husband traces your lips with the ice, you shiver, body arching further into his as the cold runs through you and leaves heat in its wake. matty smiles into you, one hand snaking down to your lower back and the other up into your hair; you can feel his wedding ring against the nape of your neck, cool gold on flushed skin, and you melt into matty faster than the ice cube does.

with a breathy laugh, he pulls back just enough to speak. “are we too old now for me to get you off on the kitchen counter?”

“depends,” you smile, scratching his scalp the way you know he loves. “you reckon your back can handle it?”

matty smirks, gently smacking your arse. “i can try.”

you kiss his nose. “go on, then.”

“thank you, darling. and remember,” he winks at you as he grabs another ice cube. “be quiet for me, yeah? don't wanna wake up our baby girl and leave you hanging, sweetheart.”

“alri- oh,” you moan as his lips (and the ice between them) meet your neck; they travel further and further down, slow as dripping honey, across your throat and over your collarbones. “fuck, baby, that feels good.”

“yeah?” matty pulls back, pretty eyes already hazy with lust as he looks up at you. “pull your top down and it'll feel even better, darling. promise.”

almost shyly, you oblige, sliding the straps down your arms, and your nipples are barely visible when matty takes the left into his mouth. a deadly cocktail of cold and lust shoots through your nervous system when the ice meets the bud, sending a strangled cry flying from your lips and into the summer night, and your hand into matty's hair. he smiles against the flesh of your tit, releasing the nipple to slide the melting ice across your sternum and repeat the motion on your right boob; as he does, tongue and the remaining sliver of ice flicking across the hardening bud, you can't stop your hips from jerking, core grinding into nothing in a desperate attempt to find friction and subsequent release.

your husband notices your wanton movement, pulling off you with a pop and standing. you don't miss the way he winces and quickly touches his lower back, but you're soon distracted from that by him softly caressing your face. “oh, sweet girl,” he coos, the slight condescension in his voice going straight to your underwear. “you need to cum, don't you?”

you nod, pathetic. “mhmm.”

“let's get these shorts off you, then, yeah? lift your hips - that's it, good girl,” matty's fingers hook into the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, gently manoeuvring you so he can slide them off your legs and lay them to the side. grabbing another ice cube, he kneels on the concrete floor in front, pulling you towards him until you're sat on the very edge of the counter. “gonna let me taste you, darling?”

“please.”

matty doesn't answer. instead, he pulls your left leg over his shoulder and presses his lips to the soft skin of your inner thigh, thumbs rubbing their outsides soothingly when you inhale sharply at the coldness, unfamiliar on this new, sensitive part of your body - the breath leaves your body in a sigh when your husband starts to move his lips in some sort of pattern along your leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps and water droplets in its wake, and turns to a moan when you realise said pattern is him writing his name with the ice cube. you can feel him smile against you when you whimper it in acknowledgement, a smile that seems to get even wider when he finishes his signature and immediately turns his attention to your now-aching clit.

you cry out when the cold hits the bundle of nerves, one hand clapping over your mouth when you remember your daughter is asleep, the other raking through her father's hair in a futile attempt to keep some semblance of control. an impossible feat, really - the hunger with which matty goes down on you is enough to get you off quickly as is, and the extra stimulation from the temperature of his lips and tongue and the ice cube itself threatens to send you hurtling towards orgasm. desperate as you are to cum, though, you don't want it to be over quite so quickly, so you try to regulate your breathing, doing your best to focus on the softness of matty's curls between your fingers and reduce the overwhelming pleasure coursing though your body to a more steady, manageable buzz.

and then matty starts to actually tongue-fuck you with the ice, and all of your composure evaporates. the pleasure ramps up to an even higher voltage than before, sparking through you towards the growing heat in your lower stomach; when he adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, you're set completely alight, and it's all you can do to warn him from behind your shaking hand. “matty, matty, i'm cumming.”

“good girl, so perfect for me,” comes the reply, muffled by your body as he works every last vestige of climax out of you. whether it's because of the heat emitted from your orgasm or from the sheer enthusiasm with which your husband was eating you out, you're unsure, but the ice has completely melted - when matty pulls back and smiles at you, eyes as loving as you've ever seen them, you can see the water dripping (presumably mixed with your own wetness) down his pretty face. he hums happily, lightly kissing your thigh before resting his head on it, still looking at you adoringly. “back to the cocktails, then?”