#what if i start sobbing
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
threeinteger · 1 month ago
Text
"You too!"
Tumblr media
148 notes · View notes
vampmoneys · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Don’t mind me, still thinking about disenchanted
26 notes · View notes
raddestrose · 4 months ago
Text
He said the thing for real this time
this is awful, why is it so sad
7 notes · View notes
rebel-ezra · 2 years ago
Text
the tech turn 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
10 notes · View notes
bardof-avon · 4 months ago
Text
@twink-catcoal-thing
Tumblr media
I saw things which no man aught
2K notes · View notes
ashstfu · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
7K notes · View notes
dreadark · 2 months ago
Text
the difference between till at the start of round 6 and round 7
Tumblr media Tumblr media
he doesn't seem like he's trying at all during round 6, having already fully given up living after losing mizi
but in round 7, even though he's lost even more, he's clearly putting all he has left into it
and the reason for that... has to be ivan, right?
he must have recognized ivan sacrificed himself for him, so for the sake of ivan's feelings till tries his absolute best to respond to them and perform that till sings at all here is for ivan
...but at the same time ivan is what haunts him
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
obviously, right? there's no way watching someone you were so close to you die like that right in front of you can give you actual "strength" (and this isn't even getting into the kiss...) contrary to ivan's (clearly wrong) conviction that till doesn't care enough for him to become a trauma to him, that's exactly what happens
this inextricable mix of love and hate, hurting and healing... this is the tragedy of their relationship to the end no matter how much ivan and till care for each other, they can't ever cure each other
2K notes · View notes
paintedcrows · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
they make me feel unwell
(continued: Stan & Young Ford)
2K notes · View notes
eddies-hid3out · 1 year ago
Note
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!
ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k
“Oh my god.” 
Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 
“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 
“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 
“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 
You shake your head severely. 
“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 
“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 
“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 
You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 
“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 
“Boo,” you mumble. 
“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 
Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 
“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 
“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 
You sit down on the bed beside him. 
“You look so pretty,” he says. 
You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 
“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 
You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 
“I love you.” 
You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 
“Yes.” 
He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 
“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 
“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 
“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 
His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 
He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 
“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 
Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 
“Kiss?” he murmurs. 
You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 
“You need a masseuse,” he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 
“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 
“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 
“No… we’re going to the movies.” 
“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 
You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 
His arm stutters at your side. “I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 
He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 
1K notes · View notes
kelin-is-writing · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
How… Do I recover from this…?
1K notes · View notes
rocketbirdie · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
i feel like i failed you.
1K notes · View notes
dailydccomics · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
this was a very sweet issue with Diana and Clark figuring out what to get Bruce for his birthday oh my ♡ Wonder Woman #7 by Tom King and Guillem March
1K notes · View notes
hot-sauce-giver · 8 months ago
Text
What if I dissolve into tears right here on tumblr. What will you do about that
Thinking about how no parental figure has ever told Gillion that they love him
46 notes · View notes
ellies-enrichment · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i got the script guys dw
339 notes · View notes
morii-moth · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
"this is me on day one of NO rendog !!"
1K notes · View notes
livelovecaliforniadreams · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
#Name A Better Childhood Friends To Lovers Glow Up I'll Wait
2K notes · View notes