#tag: flirting
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Paints Drunk
Link for the fic: Paints Drunk
Author: Illuminescence
Relationship: Greg Davies/Alex Horne
Additional tags:
Roisin Conaty
Sue Perkins
Johnny Vegas
Taskmaster Series 16 reference
life painting
Classical Painting
Inspired by Art
Alcohol
Neoplatonism
Penises
Embarrassment
Blushing
Flirting
Awkward Flirting
Not especially healthy friendly hitting
Face Slapping
not the fun kind
Consent
Botticelli's Birth of Venus
Swearing
The C-Word
Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting
Rated for nudity
Body Image
Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
Very reluctantly, Greg is allowing Roisin to drag him along to a paint-and-sip evening at a local studio. She’s promised there’ll be wine and a bit of fun, but mostly he’s agreed just to shut her up. What does he know, after all, about art? Nothing! It’s all just making dumb marks on paper that he’s never been any good at anyway.
Greg feels spun around. Confused. “Wait, model?” Carol shoves a box of charcoal at him, and he takes it, blinking.
“A quick reminder for everyone to be respectful and mature about this. The human body – beautiful and interesting and unique is already a work of art , so let’s make art of that art. Art squared! Now…” She raps on the door, and steps back with a flourish. “Everyone give a nice polite welcome to our model for the evening – Alex!”
#november 2023#prompt: hurt/comfort#r: greg davies/alex horne#author: illuminescence#tag: Roisin Conaty#tag: Sue Perkins#tag: Johnny Vegas#tag: alcohol#tag: embarrassment#tag: blushing#tag: flirting#tag: face slapping#tag: consent#tag: alternate universe#tag: hurt/comfort
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A Semblance Of My Soul
Date: 13 March 2024 Author: mattmurderock Rating: Teen Word Count/Status: 7,699, 4/11 chapters Dynamic: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Hank McCoy/Simon Williams Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Hank McCoy, Simon Williams, The Vision, Wanda Maximoff, Janet van Dyne, Sam Wilsom, James Rhodes Tags: Reality TV, Canon DIvergence, Falling In Love, Flirting, Cameras, Secret Identity, Inspired by Love is Blind (TV)
Summary:
Dating in New York is difficult for anyone. Dating in New York as an Avenger is something else entirely. When the chance to sign up for a unique experiment comes around, the idea is more appealing than some might want to admit. These contestants are here to find love, to find a connection, and above all, to answer one very important question.
Can love truly be blind? Or are there some realities you can never escape from after all?
#rating: teen#uni: 616#team: avengers#char: steve rogers#char: tony stark#char: hank mccoy#char: simon williams#char: the vision#char: wanda maximoff#char: janet van dyne#char: sam wilson#char: james rhodes#dyn: steve rogers/tony stark#dyn: hank mccoy/simon williams#tag: reality tv#tag: falling in love#tag: flirting#tag: cameras#length: 5k to 10k#category: multichapter#status: wip#rel: m/m
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DUDE THE FACES THAT GUMMIGOO MAKES
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1668b05ccdfd4880a44d8dc893afff9b/c88d94ce5cb0b921-ee/s540x810/8da7f390ca98157626dfed87cf68d385a57ccbf5.jpg)
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THERES NO WAY HE DOESN’T REMEMBER POMNI
AUGHHHH THIS SHOW MAKES ME WANNA DIE
#also ragatha describing pomni as flirting with gummigoo SHE KNOWS WHAT YOU TWO ARE.#the amazing digital circus#tadc#tadc gummigoo#tadc pomni#fast food masquerade#should I ship tag this#ehhhhh#yeah#funnygummy
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happy pride to these two for saying the gayest shit almost 60 years ago on television and singlehandedly inventing slash fiction
#it's only one of the thousands of examples#the shameless flirting on the bridge in front of everyone always gets me#they walked so we can run#in gay terms#pride#pride month#gay#star trek#star trek tos#james t kirk#kirk#spock#spirk#tos spirk#lgbt#i love the colored tags its so cooool#queer
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/624041a3fd245d3bcba9036df761da40/0b89276757aadf50-60/s540x810/1965c7761bd7e1c3c902004e2a6b23c31ced82db.jpg)
tango calling jimmy handsome in a life series okay fork spotted in kitchen
#resurrected due to rancher flirting#this is maybe the first finished drawing ive done in a while?#wild life spoilers#tangotek#bdubs#bdoubleo100#jimmy solidarity#solidaritygaming#rancher duo#team ranchers#solidaritek#tango tek#trafficshipping#trafficblr#wild life smp#life series#my art#art tag
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thank u canon plant nerd megumi for my life
bonus:
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#megumi fushiguro#itafushi#fushiguro megumi#yuji itadori#fanart#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#itadori yuuji#megumi#yuuji#middle one FOUGHT oh my god#angle/arm position/watering can/expression NONE of it wld go right#took 2 hours to get the lines only to realize upon laying down flats that it was still Completely off#so i took a break to bake an entire cake came back n finally it started cooperating#tbh idk if im still shaking off ytd's weird funk or what but this took ages longer than it should have#but its ok bc florist/botanist/general plant nerd megu is free serotonin 2 me#i could not decide on one apron 2 give him#but then i remembered he is th type 2 take his hobby Very seriously of course he would own multiple#looks at the hydrangeas listen . listen I Know i ws bemoaning having 2 draw so many cursing their name etc etc#but u dont understand he had to be holding one he just had to. he told me so. he held a gun 2 my head and said U Know What To Do#and i said ok ok ok ok#there r only 2 i survived#and i wld do anything fr him as we well know . cuffs his jeans puts leaves in his hair <3#jjk may have given me trust issues depression anxiety etc but it Also gave me flowerboy megu and i think that balances it out :)#edit added the bonus here bc reblogs dont show up in the main tags enjoy itfs gross flirting mwah <3
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Rumors say this is what tipped Anakin to the Dark side.
#click for better quality!#Rex can't catch a fucking break man#All these Jedi do is eat hot chip. throw him over a cliff and flirt with the enemy.#Apologies if the armor is scuffed idk how perspective works#I'd do one version with Padme but her headdress looks mortifying to draw from this angle#'i'm not calling you good boy Ani you just fucking murdered an entire tuskan village. the woman and the children too!'#Okay that made me cackle.#captain rex#the clone wars#swtcw#star wars the clone wars#clone wars#tcw#ct 7567#TCW Captain Rex#TCW CT 7567#anakin skywalker#star wars anakin#TCW Anakin Skywalker#sw tcw fanart#the clone wars fanart#tcw fanart#clone wars meme#clone wars fanart#could be tagged as ship? Idk idc but this was drawn with platonic rl in mind#Graye's Art#ask to tag#Graye Draws
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Thinking about Eddie driving up to the quarry one night to try and sell to the teenagers that usually hang around here,
But when he gets there only one car is parked and hidden behind the bushes framing the road.
A very familiar BMW with it’s windows steamed up.
‘Of course Harringtons getting some again. Lucky fuck.’ Eddie thinks as he lights a smoke, if only to warm him up a bit in the cold night.
Damn. From the condensation dripping down the BMW windows, they’re having no problem keeping warm.
Even from the distance it takes effort to not startle when the hand slams against the back window, creating a messy handprint on the white glass. Even from here he can see it’s a mans hand. Steve, he assumes. Jesus, whoever he has in that back seat is clearly getting railed practically through the seats.
He should look away, really. Knows that this is a bit fucked up. But…he can’t actually see anything. And really, Harrington shouldn’t have brought her out to the towns most known hangout. And its not like he was straining to hear, they were just SO loud. And…deep?
Eddie’s not exactly a connoisseur in the different noises of women, try as he may, but he’s pretty sure he’s only hearing a man right now. Sure, its still a pretty high pitched and punched out sound but noticeably a dudes- which confuses Eddie for a minute.
Harrington must just be really sensitive and loud. Maybe that’s why he had so many girls falling over him, the noises certainly weren’t turning Eddie OFF the interaction.
He can physically see the change in the cars bouncing when he assumes they’re…’finishing off’
Eddie doesn’t know why he’s still here. He could have- no, he SHOULD have left ages ago. But not long after the bouncing stops, the car door swings over and 2 legs swing out, hands coming down to fix their socks- clearly having hastily thrown his clothes back on.
The only thing is…Eddie doesn’t remember Harringtons legs being so long? The body looks out or place sitting in the open door, not like the familiar and practically famous silhouette of Steve against his vehicle. And it hits Eddie square in the face when the guy stands upright.
Cause Eddie DOES know the guy. He’s just stomach tippinglys aware that it is NOT Harrington.
That’s Johnny. Eddies (admittedly one sided) rival at the hideout. A fucking punk. Not in the way the adults of Hawkins use the term, he’s literally a punk rocker.
And his punk rocker ass is currently stepping out of Steve Harringtons freshly christened back seat. Well that…can’t be right. Harrington must just…rent out his car to couple or something. That must be it. Rich people are weird like that.
His theory is very quickly destroyed as Johnny knocks lightly on the roof of the car, cigarette already in the other hand, and pokes his head into the back. He laughs before a pair of legs flop out of the door. Legs attached to someone clearly too tall for a backseat. Legs attached to someone very male.
He should go. He needs to go. If not because of how his stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself, then because his best-buddy Johnny just tipped his head non-subtly towards Eddie’s van.
‘Shit shit shit shit-‘ He puts the keys in as fast as he can with shaking hands.
— And he so nearly got away too. So nearly never had to look at that BMW or its occupants again, live his life carefree.
All hope of that was cruelly dashed when he left hellfire to see Steve leaning against his van.
He scanned the area, in hopes someone else had stayed late because he was pretty sure Steve was about to give him the “talk and you’re dead” followed by a beating up. And that would suck.
Nowhere else to go but forward, he clutched his DND bag and hobbled over to Harrington- who hadn’t offered him anything other than a blank stare.
“Harrington.”
“Munson.”
“Pretty late to be lurking around school. People might get the wrong idea.”
“Don’t lecture me on lurking, man. We both know you were at the quarry.”
“I don’t really-“
“Johnny told me, would recognise your beat up ride miles away he said.”
Thankfully Eddie had enough brain power in him to add that to the list of reasons to fucking hate Johnny. In the time he had to scowl at the ground, Harrington had rounded behind him. Eddie span to meet him but was met with a rough hand to the chest.
He was pushed up against his van with a sharp movement, pulling a winded breath from him followed by a large ‘bang’ as Steve’s hand slammed to the side of his head.
“So, Munson. What did you see?”
“I didn’t see-“
“Try again.” A hand crept into his hair, not pulling but clearly threatening it with the way it was clasped.
“I saw…you and Johnny. In your car.”
Steve hummed and looked away from Eddie. “That’s not very specific, Eddie, try again.”
“Wha- I don’t know what you-“ The hand in his hair yanked, pulling his head so that even with their similar heights he was forced to look up at Steve, hands gripping uselessly to the side of his van.
“Try again.”
Oh.
Oh.
That’s what he wanted.
“I saw Johnny fucking you.”
He managed to lift his gaze to look at Steve and was met with an almost dopey smirk, his eyes barely focused as they stared down at Eddie half closed. Eddie melted right into the wall of his van because Steve Harrington was looking him like he’d never been hornier in his life.
“Fuck. He was Eddie, he really was and it was so good. You saw it right? Saw the car moving? Shit, man, it’s hard to get it moving like that. He was so rough.” Eddie just stared as Steve started falling further towards him, sinking into the weird little hold they both had.
“But there’s just one problem Munson.” Steve said into the side of Eddie’s neck, making him shiver and use all his willpower to keep his head where Steve’s grip had moved it.
“What- What problem?”
“My car is just too small. We needed more space, I needed more space.”
He brought his free hand up and slammed it to the other side of Eddie’s head. “Do you think you might know anyone with something more…spacious?” And when Eddie clocked exactly what he was implying, what he was begging for- he had never been so thankful for his shitty van.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#mini fic#my writing#flirting#how do i tag this kinda stuff on here i dont know the etiquette#prompt#eddie x steve
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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie headcanon#absolutely no idea where this came from#but it's here#first kiss#mutual pining#flirting#steddie first kiss#teasing#steve harrington is down bad#eddie munson is down equally bad#idk how to tag things
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(x)
#archive of our own#ao3 stuff#ao3 quotes#archive of our own quotes#fanfic#fanfic quotes#funny#ao3#ao3 tags#is it flirting? is it banter? no idea#y’all ever change the text size on your screen so you can get the tag in one line#bc i do#fun fact
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Sniper accidentally flirts with Scout thinking he’s just another short homosexual in a gay bar. That’s it. That’s the context.
This is referring to the doodle in this post
#tf2#team fortress 2#This implies that Sniper has flirted with many lookalikes. he did.#tf2 sniper#tf2 scout#sniperscout#but could also be read as platonic#my art#ally!scout#my personal tag because i do like looking back at it
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i got lazy in the second panel and didnt feel like coloring or whatever bite me
#i think she'd be petty enough to do this if rebecca actually lived#flirting with her man. unacceptable. eats#the trend of uzi in the suit and n in the dress is the funniest shit ever to me. n would be so willing to wear a dress#and she'd totally wear her combat boots over the pants. they're not going anywhere#she should be allowed to say fuck#art#murder drones#murder drones uzi#murder drones n#serial designation n#i can finally tag it myself exclamation mark#biscuit bites#uzi x n#murder drones nuzi#lizzy was recording it to send it to v i swear shes not just playing subway surfers#i dont understand outfit design in the slightest im just making it up as i go#ill figurre out a speechbubble design for uzi later im tired#oh yeah uhhh#murder drones rebecca#murder drones lizzy#hope i didnt forget anything ok bye
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The Narrator's perspective only gets more horrifying the longer you think about it. Like, imagine being an Echo of yourself—one of many, all made to serve a very particular purpose and knowingly living on borrowed time, if 'living' is even the right word for your current state of pseudo-existence.
You've inherited the mission of a dead man—it's literally the only thing left that you can do before fading, so you sure as hell better believe in it; the alternative would be unbearable. Only you keep failing. With every loop that you don't remember, your lack of agency in this situation becomes starker—you can influence small things, sure, but it becomes increasingly clear that you have no real power, no matter how personally invested you are in the events unfolding in front of you. You are, after all, only an Echo. You've forfeited the right to meaningfully engage with the world.
Worse—every loop you're made aware of is another time you've failed, with unimaginable consequences, though you had no control over these previous iterations of yourself and can't even learn from their mistakes. Everyone around you is operating on a shared perception of reality that you are not part of, will never be part of. After a few repetitions, you are, ironically, the least informed person in the room. All you have left to go on is an evidently outdated script. At the same time, everyone else is experiencing a contiguous version of you, comprised of parts that are, in some sense, also you, while at the same time existing at a complete remove from your current perception of self. Whatever you don't know you did—that's you now. You are, after all, only an Echo. You've forfeited the right to define your own identity, never mind know what it is.
Even worse—this has trapped you within a stagnant hell of your own creation. Nothing you say or do really matters in terms of your own self (the rest of the world is a separate issue entirely). Anything you've come to believe—say, for totally hypothetical example, that you were wrong actually and your envisioned paradise is really a hell beyond any you had the capacity to envision—has about as much permanence as a drawing in the sand. 'You' will continue, exactly as you were, no matter how much you might like to change your behavior. Every possible future has already been set in stone. You are, after all, only an Echo. You've forfeited the right to say anything you haven't already said.
For some reason, no part of any of this has made you feel more comfortable and at peace with the general concept of finality.
The really, truly absolute worst part, though?
There is no one for you to blame but yourself. And that's exactly what turns your story into such a tragedy.
#slay the princess#meta#my meta#slay the princess narrator#stp narrator#stp echo#for the love of god WHAT is his character tag this is a travesty#narrator sweep#natterings#stp posting#this was written as part of another much longer piece of enthusiastic narrator meta#like with screenshots and everything#but this was too good and self-contained NOT to post#in case of the very likely event where i dont finish the full thing#because unlike him i do recognize when im flirting with my own hubris#not that it ever stops me#anyway ask me about the narrator and why hes the most interesting character in stp#who is UNDERAPPRECIATED-- i mean uh#surprisingly overlooked#please there is so much that i could say
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Frightened and stressed out by the overwhelming love they feel for each other because they are even cuter up close 😔❤️💛
[Birds of a feather AU] - [Previous part]
#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#aziraphale x crowley#good omens comic#Birds of a Feather AU#Aziraphale should always break Gabriel's rules. as a treat 😔👌#And Crowley should always try to please Aziraphale by bringing him every single thing that he likes and that he maybe vaguely mentioned onc#as a treat 😔👌👌👌👌#They are so in love but OF COURSE they are not telling each others that would be TOO SIMPLE#So they are gonna meet at the edge of Skyheaven's walls ABSOLUTELY IN SECRET#Consider Crowley bringing books to Aziraphale like the little stones that penguins brings to each others when they are in love#This is his way of flirting. At least in his mind. Aziraphale have NO CLUE but really appreciate it!!#Also Crowley always stand hunched so he's rarely as tall as in the last picture#but there he was meeting Aziraphale face to face for the first time and was puffing his feathers like a rooster to try and look cool ahah#Tag italiano del giorno uuuuumh... lasagna? 🤌#Droppiamo questi piccioni che flirtano e andiamo a mangiarci la nostra lasagna natalizia buone feste raga byeeee
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again idk if this has been said before but i love the lucanis approval when you're going after zara and illario meets you half way. lucanis is trying to get him to fuck off but illario ignores him and addresses rook, flirts w them, tells them that they should let him give them a tour. and when they also tell him to fuck off cause their honey said so, lucanis likes it. he follows up with "this isn't your job, there's no one you can charm into dropping their guard". and idk it kind of reminds me of the comment lucanis makes during the coffee date cutscene where he says smth along the lines of "even before i was captured, most things were determined for me" and adding that w the implication of illario absolutely hating when attention isn't on him paired with his resentment toward lucanis for being their grandmother's favorite AND lucanis telling emmerich that he "doesn't have illario's gift for flirting" like idk i imagine illario poaching any person he sensed lucanis had even a passing interest in just cause he's a spiteful mf
so here "there's no one you can charm" = "this one is mine, they won't fall for it"
i just think the mutual possessiveness is neat :)
#datv#datv spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#what makes it even better is that at this point the flirting has hardly gone anywhere#so lucanis is deep in the 'afraid to want you' phase#but i think this small exchange and then taking out zara and THEN dealing w spite again#and then assuring lucanis he's still a baddie and u want him biblically#all happening in rapid succession is when he's like forced to reckon that he's also down atrocious for rook#and allows himself to almost kiss them#again idk if this has been said before i hardly have time to look at the tag cause im too busy staring at a wall thinkin abt him#man who never got to live his own life finally bags a 10/10 and acts like an unattended small dog in a parked car when someone walks past
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I NEEEEEEED Kurt shippers. or just Kurt insane people to know that the german word for tail is also german slang for penis
"You like my tail dont you" said in german ("Du magst meinen schwanz, oder?") will be read as "you like my dick dont you" by a german
this isnt to discourage people from using the word Schwanz, the oposite, i want people to write Kurt saying that because he WOULD
#and yes. 'schwanz' will be read as 'dick' by default#even if it is the only word for tail we have#we will still read that as dick even if it wasnt the intention#to the point of german warrior cats (the suffix 'tail' exists a lot) having to use the word for a horses tail (which is more implied to#be just A Tail Made Of Hair. or an alternative for pony tail) instad of actually 'tail' because . ya know#anyways. i want people to write him being a little flirt and shit but the people that understand Some german without knowing slang#just thinking hes actually referring to his tail instead of.............. not#kurt wagner#x-men#uh what the fuck do i tag this as#Logurt#?#im writing this BECAUSE of a logurt tiktok i saw so shrugs#nightcrawler
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