#yeah i'll throw this in the tag. why not.

[stvrnioloslvt]

stripes and polo's - Matt Sturniolo

genre: fluff / t.w: none

—★—

"i don't know what to wear..." you sigh throwing your phone on the bed, your friend on speaker.

"well, why don't you take something from matt's wardrobe? you only need a shirt anyway." you look around matt's room, checking to see if he has any spare shirts on the loose. however, it seemed that he had cleaned the whole room that morning, leaving it spotless and tidy.

"i can't exactly ask him, he's streaming with chris"

"and? just take one now and tell him later. i'm sure he won't mind, he has a thing for you in his clothes"

"that's not true," you mumbled, a rosy blush tinting your cheeks. you knew that your friend wasn't wrong, but it felt so wrong admitting that your childhood best friend had some sort of interest in you...and you did too.

"yeah yeah, if that helps you sleep at night..."

you ignore her remarks, digging through matt's clothes until you found something that caught your eyes: in the middle of black t-shirts, grey sweaters and an overall basic wardrobe, there was a striped polo hidden at the back of the drawer. you pulled it out, turning it around to check for any holes or stains.

"i think i found something," you announced to your friend, putting the polo on. it didn't fit you perfectly, as it was bigger than your shirts, but you didn't mind at all. you rose your hands to your face, smelling matt's familiar scent on the shirt, relishing in the comfort of one of your favourite people.

"i'm hanging up, i'll go tell him that i took his shirt. meet you up in ten minutes, yeah?"

"sure thing, love. see you in ten," and just like that, your friend had hung up.

you glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair with your hands. you took your phone from the bed and exited matt's room, walking up the stairs to chris's room. as you got closer, you heard loud and clear the two boys screaming at each other, laughing at something stupid chris said.

your hand grabbed the knob, pulling it and entering the room just as chris started addressing the chat again. "chat, matt's type is the who would pull off man's polo's, i'm telling you." his wholehearted laugh died as soon as you came into view, his face falling into one of pure surprise. he mirrored matt's expression, eyes wide and open mouths as you made sure that you weren't completely visible for the viewers. a little bit of the polo's sleeve was in view, enough to make the chat explode with comments.

you blushed as you realised how terribly timed your appearance was, and how badly matt's reaction had affected you. he eyed you up and down, slowly, taking in each by each of your body, mindlessly reaching out to you, pulling you closer. your heart drummed harshly against your ribcage, trying to escape its home.

"matt-" you called out anxiously, trying to pull him out of his mind, reminding him that there were thousands of viewers who were waiting for his next move, observing like hawks looking for their next prey.

"you look...good," he breathed out, smiling softly at you. behind him, chris was frantically trying to cover up the scene that was unfolding in front of everybody's eyes.

"thank you," you whispered, "do you mind if i borrow this one for the evening? i'm meeting up with a friend of mine."

"go on, sweetheart, it's all yours."

you smiled, turning to leave the room. just as you were exiting, chris read one of the comments: "someone wrote 《matt should teach us how to manifest quickly, cause that shit was crazy》 and i couldn't agree more."

"what are you talking about, that's my best friend..." but even as he tried to hide his blush, it was clear that behind his hand there was a big smile plastered on his face.

who knew, maybe in the future things would change.

©stvrnioloslvt

hello everybody! hope you liked it, let me know if you'd like a part 2. also, would y'all like a tag list?

remember that my asks/requests are always open, i'd love to get to know you guys!

thank you.

love you all,

-bree♥︎

[ponyregrets]

I wanted to write about Buck and Eddie going in the ocean and I'd written most of it before I thought to check what the weather in LA is actually like right now (look, I'm in New England, I just think of it as Warm down there, okay?) and I decided to go with it anyway. as @frightfullytreeish said, get chilly, idiots

(806 coda, 1900 words, also on AO3)

"Hey, what brings you joy?"

Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper.

And of course there's the Tommy of it all. Buck hasn't exactly been mourning or anything, but he's obviously down. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to say that nothing is bringing him joy at the moment. It's not a particularly joyful time.

But Buck doesn't hesitate, doesn't question. He just says, "The ocean," and doesn't even ask why Eddie wants to know.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I never saw it until I left Hershey. We never went to the beach or anything when I was a kid. The first time I saw it, I fell in love. It was the best thing I'd ever seen."

"I didn't know that."

Buck shrugs. "Doesn't come up that much. And I guess I always think I'll get used to it? But it's amazing every time. I never get tired of it."

He should have known, right? They've gone to the ocean together. Or--well, they've had calls near the water before. That guy who got struck by lightning. The shark.

The tsunami.

But they've never just gone. Buck has never tagged along with him and Chris on any of their trips, and he and Buck have no reason to just take a beach day together.

Joy doesn't need a reason, right? He can just do it.

"Cool," says Eddie. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"What else are we doing?"

It hasn't been a problem, exactly, their lack of things to do. It's just kind of new, the way they're hanging out in the last week. Usually they have Chris, or girlfriends, or boyfriends. They have some reason to stop being together, and now they just…don't. And Buck just keeps on coming over, hanging out on Eddie's couch, in his space, like he can't bear to be in his loft now that Tommy isn't there.

Or something.

"You got some trunks I can borrow?" Buck asks.

"Are we swimming?"

"You want to go to the beach and not swim?"

Most of the time, that's what he does. When Chris was younger he'd get in the water, but the last few years it's been Eddie supervising while Chris does his own thing far enough away that it doesn't look like he's being supervised.

But Chris is in Texas. And, yeah, it's November, but Buck doesn't seem to care.

"I'll see what I've got," he says and finds he has two pairs of trunks in good enough shape that he's not embarrassed about anyone wearing them. Small miracles.

He throws the bigger pair to Buck and then goes to change in his bedroom. Buck will be doing the same thing in the bathroom, not for the first time, but he's never been changing into Eddie's trunks before. Did Ana ever wear anything of his? Marisol didn't. Buck might be the first person since Shannon.

As long as they fit, it's fine. Not a big deal at all.

They take Buck's car, the podcast he's listening to about the issues with the keto diet resuming as soon as he turns it on. Hen has gotten tired of explaining why his diets might be a problem herself and is outsourcing, which Eddie can't blame her for, but he doesn't find the resources nearly as interesting as Buck does. He already knows he doesn't want to do keto.

"You don't need to cheer me up, you know," Buck says, about halfway to the beach, without bothering to pause the keto thing. "I'm doing okay."

"I know."

It's mostly true. Buck has seemed fine with the breakup. Not happy, but not heartbroken either. He's been a little quiet about it, more so than Eddie was expecting. All he'll say is that Tommy initiated it, but he understands why.

"I'm trying to be happier," he tells Buck. "For me."

"Is that a thing you can try? Like, aren't you just happy or not?"

"If that was true, the ocean wouldn't bring you joy, right?" He lets out a breath, his stomach tied in inconvenient knots. "Someone pointed out that when I had the choice between something that would make me happy and something that wouldn't, I picked the one that wouldn't."

Buck mulls this over for a long moment. "I always figured that's because you're more mature than I am." It's only half a joke.

"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it." His breath shudders more this time. "Anyway. I'm not doing that anymore. I'm looking for things that bring me joy. So I figure if the ocean does that for you, maybe it'll do it for me, too."

"I hope so."

They set up like Eddie would with Chris, towels and belongings planted in the sand, the only difference that they left their phones in the car since no one is staying behind. He keeps his back turned as they shed the layers of clothing they have on, but when Buck hands him a tube of sunscreen, he has no choice but to stare at the expanse of bare back. The motions are familiar, nothing he hasn't done a thousand times for Chris, but…

Well, he's never done it for Buck.

Buck makes him turn around so he can return the favor, a much less familiar process. These days, he usually leaves his shirt on.

But he knows Buck's hands. They're familiar, all heat and callus. Careful, incongruously so. Buck looks like he's built clumsy, someone who can't do delicate work, and maybe he knows that too. Like happiness to Eddie, precision doesn't come naturally to Buck. He has to put the effort in, and he does. Eddie's skin lights up with every stroke of Buck's hands, so he's sure that Buck gets every inch.

And then he keeps going a little longer. Just to make sure.

"Okay," says Buck at last. "We're good to go."

Eddie is expecting Buck to run into the ocean like an overgrown puppy, all bright enthusiasm despite the chill, but he's cautious. He dips a toe in, then his foot, then the other. He walks in slowly enough that Eddie overtakes him, even though he's not running. He's just eager.

"The first time I went into the ocean, I was in Virginia Beach," Buck explains without making Eddie ask. "It was May, and I thought it would be warm enough, it was a hot May. But I ran in and it was so cold. I ran right back out."

"Goes to show," says Eddie.

"What, exactly? I know how the water's going to be today. It's cold."

The water is probably around the same temperature as it was in Virginia Beach in May. Eddie shivers, but doesn't stop, not until he's up past his knees. He smiles at Buck, who's still just letting the waves lap his toes. "Yeah, it's nice anyway. It's hot out."

"Not hot enough."

"It's fine."

He's in up to his ankles now. "You're not getting the joy, though."

"I am."

"Eddie."

"I'm getting used to it."

"You're not supposed to get used to it. You're supposed to be be making choices that make you happy right away, right?"

"I am happy," he says again, and it doesn't feel like a lie. "It's nice, there's no one else here. And it's not cold enough for us to get hypothermia."

"Are you sure this isn't just for me?" Eddie cocks his head, and Buck clarifies, "For my benefit."

"Should it be?"

Buck kicks at a wave. "He said I wasn't ready. Tommy. That's why he broke up with me. I asked him to move in with me, and he broke it off instead."

"So he's an idiot," Eddie says. "Always knew there was a chance, but I was hoping I was wrong."

"Is he, though? Was he wrong? I didn't really want him to move in. I just wanted…" He huffs. "I want to be done with this, you know? I'm ready to be with someone. And I think it could have been him."

It's not like getting shot, or even like getting punched. It's like a bullet or a fist going past him, close enough to graze the skin. Close enough that he's thinking about how much it could have hurt.

"But that's shitty, right? Like, how long could I have kepg going just because I didn't have a reason to break up with him? He was…fun. I liked him. I liked feeling like I'd figured it out. Like that was the last piece. I like guys too."

"Maybe it was," Eddie says. The water is lapping against his legs, the surf gentle. He's used to the temperature where he's submerged, but it's only halfway up his thighs. Every time the droplets splash higher, there's this shock of sharp little pinpricks.

He's so fucking happy.

"Maybe that was the last piece, but that doesn't mean Tommy is it. Maybe you're ready, but you're not ready for him."

"I'm just tired," says Buck. "I'm tired of waiting for someone to want me enough, you know? I'm ready to settle."

"You shouldn't," says Eddie. "You shouldn't be with someone just to be with anyone."

"You can build it," he argues, like Chris angling for a later bedtime or more video games before homework. "Love. Like you and Shannon did."

Nausea roils his stomach. "We didn't. It wasn't like that."

"I know it wasn't perfect, but you two were working on it. You were going to--"

"She wanted a divorce. Before she died. That was one of the last things she told me. We weren't going to have another kid, we weren't going to get married again, we weren't going to be together." He's not crying, but in that way where he is very aware that he's not crying. Where Not Crying is currently defining his existence. "I think we could have been friends," he says. "And maybe we could have figured it out. Been together again, made it good. That's what I told myself. And that's…easy."

"Easy?" Buck asks, in a small voice. Like Eddie is telling him a fairy tale he wishes could be true.

Which Eddie is, actually.

"If she was the love of my life and I lost her, then that was it. No one else would ever measure up. Nothing else could ever be as good. It was never going to work."

"But she wasn't?"

"Maybe she was. Or maybe--" He's Not Crying. "Maybe I don't just get one love, or even just one life. Maybe it doesn't have to be about finding her again. It can be about finding someone new. Someone who…"

He chokes then, the words dying in his throat. Buck is dazzling in the sunlight, his eyes as blue as the sea, his expression open, waiting. His whole existence focused on Eddie.

Eddie would marry him today. Eddie would marry him tomorrow, Eddie would marry him yesterday. Eddie would tie himself to Buck in any way Buck could think of, in every way, with wills, with contracts, with mortgages, with handcuffs, with string.

"Someone who brings me joy," he finishes.

"Joy," says Buck. He looks over the horizon, smiles, shakes his head.

Eddie's chest is too small and too big. He's never had so much in him.

"I've never had that," he muses. "Someone who makes me feel like the ocean."

"Like the ocean," Eddie says. "Yeah."

[unsettlingcreature]

i want thoughts on my new nord/ldb oc

[meagancandraw]

Could we possibly see your version of the thumbnail?

I never drew it, but, prior to finding out I wasn't gonna be doing it, I had already made my own reference for the pose and lighting in Blender using Sun's model Normally I wouldn't share the Blender screenshots I take bc I don't know if I'm allowed to, but in this case it's for a thumbnail that was never made, so it should be fine

Maybe at some point I'll properly draw it out just for fun, but idk. For now enjoy this behind the scenes look at my process lol

[hypervoxel]

Oh, so, like, the entire first season's establishment of the characters and their interactions don't actually matter in Helluva Boss. Okay, cool.

Like, I get that characterization develops over time and the writers come up with new ideas and places they want to take the story, but. So much of the Stolas/Blitzø stuff recently isn't character development: it's retconning.

[vampiricsheep]

Don't think I've seen this question make the rounds before, so:

Do any of your OCs hunt/fish/trap? Who taught them, and why do they do it? Do they have preferred gear or quarry?

[melancholic-pigeon]

Alright, this is my last comment on the issue, for real this time.

@nerdykeppie is staffed by unprofessional, rude, cruel people who double down on their entitlement to be unprofessional, rude and cruel in public to their former customers.

You should know the sorts of people you're giving money to if you patronize them. The founder is liable to misread your words, lash out at you in anger over something he misunderstood, and generally behave like a tantruming child even if you go out of your way to be polite and give him the benefit of the doubt when he lashes out at you over his own poor reading comprehension.

I'm done getting into this. No, Spider is not ~required~ to be professional on his (public) personal blog which is closely tied to his business. I just think it's extremely stupid to double down on his "right" to be unprofessional on his public blog when he owns a business that is clearly tied to said public blog, because it reflects very poorly on both his personal character and his business. I think it is hilariously foolish and an extremely poor decision to openly advertise and defend your founder's unprofessionalism, which speaks of general lack of professionalism and poor judgment throughout the whole business, not just from Spider (though his lack of good judgment and public unprofessionalism is the most obvious).

So. Best of luck in the people involved resolving whatever problem in their lives that they're taking out on me, and beware interacting with them in any way because they will absolutely be rude as shit to you and then smear you in public and private for (/checks hand) apologizing for a miscommunication because you didn't mean what they incorrectly interpreted you to mean.

I can't fucking believe they still think they're in the right here and *I* am the one who needs to be ~asked not to contact them again~. You answered me THREE TIMES *after* I had blocked you because you cannot let go of the fact that you were wrong about a stupid fucking plastic pumpkin and the fact that I went OUT OF MY WAY to give you the benefit of the doubt.

(two of those three asks were frantic apologies because I genuinely felt terrible, and they were both met with meanness and scorn and snide insults about my communication failures.

Lol. Me. I'm the one who is failing to communicate and has poor reading comprehension because you misunderstood me and started lashing out like I personally strangled all of your pets for having the filthy nerve to apologize and try to clear it up.

Yeah. I'm the villain here. Sure, Jan.)

I'm done now, but enjoy having your unprofessional, cruel, immature nonsense publicly exposed. I stand by my actions (the ones I actually took in real life, not the fake pretend ones you made up because you misunderstood what I wrote) and I look forward to you experiencing the natural consequences of your own.

Don't give money to childish jerks.

[thou-hast-now-a-bosom-companion]

i like Gale but i especially like the dynamic of him as extremely vitriolic friends with another wizard.

wizard Tav and Gale do that academia thing where one of them publishes an article, and the other publishes a dissenting article that ultimately just means "fuck you how dare you be wrong."

and then the first person publishes a dissenting article to THAT article that ultimately just means "fuck you I've never been wrong about anything ever."

and the process just keeps going like that ad infinitum. Tav barges in on Gale's lectures and pulls some Plato vs Aristotle style petty nonsense. some "Behold: a man!" level pettiness. Gale has begun to place wards on the doors and windows before beginning his lectures. Tav keeps getting past them. the students cheer every time.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Do you have an ao3 account?

I do! Same url as here.

The goal is to actually post something on it lol

I currently have three ideas that I feel are within the realm of my current writing capabilities for a one- or two-shot:

• Don and Gilda sharing a moment with each member of the full score trio pre-Cuvitidala timeskip. I'm still not a hundred percent sure what their moment with Norman would be, but for Emma it would be going over Norman's letter and finalizing their escape plan (with them asking is it really okay to leave Ray on his own until January), and for Ray it would be him approaching them after he returns from Goldy Pond but before Emma wakes up from her coma to apologize for not being all there after Norman was shipped out and to thank them for being there for their family when he couldn't be. • Memory Keeper Ray AU set during the search for the Seven Walls. • Mostly canon-compliant, Cuvitidala-era one/two-shot where Ray pushes Emma out of the way of a demon ambush (which may or may not have been necessary) during one of the times where they’re on the way back to the bunker that winds up with him getting sick. While not a repeat of "The Day Emma Cried" story from the first light novel since Ray isn't fatally ill like they believed Norman was that summer, she can't help but notice the similarities in the situation as she goes off to find a solution to help speed up his recovery. Meanwhile, Ray's fevered dreams drift to his mother and eventually the missing member of their trio. This story was born from the desire of wanting RE to discuss Emma's dream from chapter 93 and as part of a set-up for endgame REN that leaves them off at a reasonable place for where I see them on that front: Emma always unconsciously gravitating and finding solace with the boys but not understanding the totality of those feelings (because Emma loves all of her family dearly; it's an immutable truth of the universe. So what makes them different) so there's some secrets unwittingly being kept on her side of things. Ray, in contrast, accepted that he loved Emma and Norman long ago, back when he first locked up his heart in order to maintain the mental fortitude needed to carry out his escape plan. While he also doesn't comprehend the full magnitude of those feelings (though this is a very poignant declaration),

he can consciously put a name to them, but he's intentionally holding back for a variety of reasons on this front (not wanting it to seem like there's an expectation of reciprocity, still dealing with the grief of Norman's apparent death, but the big one being they're still trying to find a way out of the demon world) and wrestling with the idea of revealing his connection to Isabella, what that connection says about him given the choices he's made, and potentially hearing someone else say things he's been telling himself for years.

[coollyinterferes]

Today, I offer you...

🌟 he 🌟

[wingedknightrose]

WIP Weekend

Tagged by @lucien-lachance a couple of times over the past couple of weeks but haven't been able to keep up with it because work is hell

Tagging @lucien-lachance because I haven't seen you do one this weekend so. y'know >>

have a snippit from Apocalypse, wherein Victor has no idea how bad his night is about to be.

Victor groaned, falling back in his chair to stare at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure out what the best path forward was. Did he go out and investigate himself? He was both more capable of getting up there and more knowledgeable about what he’d find than anyone else in the Brotherhood. But they were also expecting an attack, and depending on who or what was doing the attacking, he’d be needed here. And then of course there was all that nebulous chaos they were anticipating without any solid idea where or when it would break, so he could be needed anywhere at a moment’s notice. Unless the Cathedral was where everything was going to go wrong, at which point he really needed to be there, and - he was going in circles. “Goddamnit,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with his palms. There wasn’t enough information for him to make the best call. He hated situations like this - it was gambling with lives, and his family wasn’t known for being particularly lucky. His phone chirped softly in his pocket. Victor sat up, pulled it out, and unlocked it without even checking the notification. He found himself staring at his chat history with Alucard; the vampire had sent him a single sentence - the most Victor had heard from him all month. It’s starting. Victor sat up a little straighter, shooting a question mark in reply, because that message was stupidly ominous and completely unhelpful. He waited for a minute or two, but there was no answer forthcoming. Of course Alucard would choose tonight of all nights to be cryptic. Victor glared at the little picture at the top of the screen - a white wolf making one of those doofy blep faces - like if he did so hard enough it would come to life and explain what was going on. “What’s starting…?”

[russieraholic]

Never posted my mockup.

Sephiran von Bartels, baron of house Bartels

part of a personal style mocking challenge but he's also my scrimblo bimblo

Very large, muscular frame as you can see in my other wip

6'6", 250 LBS

He serves as a deacon of the southern church, but more importantly, the personal advisor and bodyguard of Count Varley

Ask me anything about him, I WANT INTERACTION 😳

[elytrafemme]

okay i will actually stop the public breakdown sort of now because it's kind of embarrassing but i do need to point out that my girlfriend sent me a video which i do not find funny and like i'm already splitting right now and i really do not need this energy in my life where are the funny men like what are we doing here

[risingsunresistance]

...hi there

[meagancandraw]

I saw today's SaMs episode 😋 Sun is looking at the robot and the little Exclamation Mark there 👀 and the robot is waving happily! And I love the background!

Thank you!! This has probably been my favorite thumbnail to draw so far ^_^

Trivia: The reason you see a Ferris wheel and circus tent in the distance is bc the episode synopsis I read had me thinking Sun was gonna be in his mindscape, rather than a different planet. Due to that, I added them as a nod to my personal hc for what I think Sun's mindscape would look like (A beautiful garden/forest that also has a small circus nearby)

[jamescarstairs]

you know there's something wrong with me when i'm grateful work is getting me out of the house 😭