#I always wanted to make that joke

[neonseperatedau]

More in/correct quotes from my fic NEON - A Separated Siblings AU. Out-of-context-spoiler for chapter 22. Raph "Uhm…Whatcha got there Leo? Leo *wearing the gauntlet, a part of the cursed armor of evil, the doom of all living things* "A smoothie?" Mikey *head popping out of the kitchen* "Oh, hey Raph! You want one, too?" Raph *face of pure horror while one hears the smoothie machine shredding those fruits* 

[soranker]

DEEP💥SPACE💥PLANET💥FUTURE💥GUN💥ACTION❗️

[ghost-proofbaby]

foolishness and all

summary: your boyfriend puts your love to the test when his heart is set on a certain unsightly purchase.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: jar jar binks. not edited, i was laughing too hard.

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: this is the product of a very insane conversation that occurred in the middle of the night last night with @emmaisgonnacry, @lokis-army-77, and @emma-munson. forever sad we can't get the jar jar watch </3 (but at least emma got the darth maul one!) ((thank you for making me laugh until i cried last night, friends.))

“If you buy that thing, I’m breaking up with you.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Yes, I am.” 

“I’m getting the watch.” 

“And I’m getting a new boyfriend.”

You glare at your boyfriend for several beats of tense silence, narrowing your eyes as if it’ll do anything to change his mind. His heart is already set – there’s no stopping what’s about to happen. 

“Edward Munson,” you stress, hand shooting out to hold his wrist, but he’s already whipping it out of your reach, “That thing is hideous. We’re shopping for a nice watch for Steve’s wedding, not that.” 

“This thing has a name, sweetheart,” Eddie smiles toothily, tilting his head tauntingly at you, “And I think it fits the theme perfectly.” 

“In what fucking world?”

You're whispering harshly now, trying to keep from causing a commotion in the middle of the store and garnering any more unwanted attention. The workers had given you strange enough looks when Eddie had first laid eyes on his prize, his little yelp of excitement seemingly startling them. 

The less people who witnessed the atrocity on Eddie’s wrist currently, the better. 

Eddie goes against that wish entirely, holding his wrist high in the air for the entire mall to see at this point, “In my world. He did say it was meant to be open for interpretation-”

“Not like this.”

“And my interpretation is buying this absolutely priceless Jar-Jar Binks watch.” 

The thing looks down at you, almost as if it’s laughing at you just as Eddie was right now. 

Part of you wonders if it’s all a bit – something Eddie noticed set you off, and he’s now making it into an entire catastrophic situation solely for his own enjoyment at your irritation. But part of you also knows that even if it is a bit, Eddie Munson will commit wholeheartedly to it. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s a joke or not. He’ll be leaving this store as the owner of that watch, and the thought mortifies you. 

“Please,” you finally resort to begging, feeling a bit childish as you give a pitiful hop to reach his wrist. It’s useless. He only stretches higher, shirt riding up to expose that strip of pale skin beneath the fabric. Your eyes catch on it momentarily, but you force yourself to not get distracted, “Eddie, baby-”

“Nuh uh,” he’s quick to shake his head, taking a full step back from you, “Nope. That baby shit isn’t working on me this time. I’m buying it. End of discussion.” 

Fine. The sweet talk route didn’t work. That’s fine. 

You had more than one weapon in the arsenal. 

Before he can even think to step any further away, you reach out and hook your finger through one of his belt loops, giving a tug that further exposes the band of his boxers all while forcing him closer to you. 

You’re back on your tip-toes, no longer reaching for the watch, but to let your lips barely graze over his as your whispers, “What if I ask you not to very, very nicely?” 

That has him faltering. Complete hesitation as he takes a deep breath and visible gulp, arm beginning to drop ever so slightly. 

“I would… I’d…” he trails off, clearly losing focus as your lips stay hovering just out of touch, “I’d probably… I-”

“Probably not buy it – right, handsome?” 

And just as quickly as he’d fallen victim to the game you’d started playing, he’s pulled from it. 

He leans back as far as he can with your finger still clinging to his pants, scrunching up his nose, “I see what you’re doing. Not fucking fair. It’s only thirteen dollars, anyway. I bet if Steve was here right now, he’d tell me to get it.” 

“He wouldn’t!” you whisper-yell, giving up and pulling back as well, “It’s his wedding, Eddie. He told us to get something nice to fit in with the black tie dress code,” you can see him ready the argument of interpretation once more, and nip it in the bud, “No amount of interpretation can ever qualify the head of Jar-Jar Binks turned into a watch as something that fits into black tie attire.”

He’s not convinced. Not of the point you’re trying to make – no, you know he agrees with you and is just being a little shit at this point – but of not buying the watch. 

“What if I just bought it?” he barters, “Maybe I don’t wear it to the weddin-”

“There’s no maybes about it. You can’t wear it to the wedding. You’re one of the groomsmen.”

He lifts his other hand just as the one adorning the eyesore finally drops to be eye level once more, “Fine! Fine. I won’t wear it to the wedding, but I’m still getting it.” 

It’s a compromise. Or as close to a compromise as you and Eddie were going to get to right now. 

With his wrist finally lowered, you can finally get a proper look at the thing. It’s Jar-Jar’s head with a band to mimic his skin, no clock in sight until it’s flipped open. The inside might be even worse though. Vivid font curling to spell out Jar-Jar, a light orange background with darker swirls, and the world’s smallest sliver of a screen to display the digital time. 

It absolutely blows your mind that anyone thought it was a good marketing idea. But then again, people like your boyfriend exist. He was the intended audience, not you. 

“It’s not even that cool,” you weakly still try to fight the losing battle, gingerly grabbing for the wrist this time with your free hand. Your finger hasn’t left Eddie’s belt loop, now resting comfortably in it, just growing fond of the closeness rather than weaponizing it against him. 

And maybe as a way of keeping him from running up to the counter to complete the purchase. Maybe. 

“It’s the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he proudly proclaims, right there in the middle of the Radio Shack, never having looked more satisfied with himself, “It can just be a conversational piece. I promise, I won’t break out the secretly evil little shit-”

“What?”

“Unless the occasion actually calls for it.” 

“I’m sorry, can we go back to where you just called Jar-Jar secretly evil?” you ask, more perplexed than concerned at this point.

He was getting it. You were hating it. You had bigger wars to win with the man before you at a later date, surely. 

His grin makes you regret asking, “Oh, you haven’t heard the theory about Jar-Jar being a Sith lord, have you?” 

Your finger slips from his jeans, and your eyes nearly roll out of your head. 

“Go buy that thing. I’m waiting in the car.” 

“Wait, babe, no!” 

“Nope. I’m not listening to this.” 

You turn from Eddie to walk away, making sure he can’t see the corners of your mouth twitching with a smile you’re so desperately fighting, but it’s no use when he grabs onto your elbow to spin you back around. 

“Eddie, I’m not-”

You’re interrupted with his lips on yours, an unexpectedly genuine kiss ensuing. The kind that reminds you why you’d ever deal with someone who wants a Jar-Jar Binks watch, the kind that reminds you why the occasional embarrassment Eddie purposefully puts you through in public is all worth it. 

All the butterflies, all the sweetness, all the tenderness. The way his thumb traces over your skin as his hand stays wrapped around your elbow, the way his other hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You can still taste whatever sour candy he’d bought moments before walking into the store all over his tongue and lips, hiding his last cigarette from hours ago. 

It’s a good enough kiss to forget the entire interaction that had just occurred. 

When he pulls away, you’re a little breathless, all fluttering eyes glazed over as you look up at him, “What was that for?” 

His smile could melt your entire existence. Turn you right into a puddle of all the love you struggle to contain, just for him. 

“Just because,” he shrugs, but then he continues on, “And for putting up with me. Thank you for that.” 

“I don’t put up with you,” you say immediately, and mean it.

Even when he’s being insufferable. Even when he’s still wearing the goddamn Jar-Jar Binks watch. You don’t put up with him – you love him. Foolishness and all. 

Your finger returns to his belt loop, and this time, you tug him in for another kiss. Something short and sweet, something just because. 

“You know,” he mumbles against your lips, arm wrapping around you so you can’t leave him just yet, “They have a Darth Maul one, too…” 

Your hand comes up between the two of you, only a slight struggle, just for you to smack him in the center of his chest, “You can only have one, Munson.”

“We could match!”

“I am not wearing that thing.” 

He throws his head back and cackles, a certain glee only born of being with the one you feel safest with flooding his features. All those wrinkles in the corners of his crinkled eyes, the stretch of his lips that bring on the appearance of dimples you could bury yourself in if given the chance. A boy made up of stardust and felicity. Your boy made up of every good thing that could have ever existed in this lifetime. 

You’d rather bicker over the useless things with him a hundred times over than ever live a life without him. 

“It’s fine,” he finally sighs dramatically, “I’ll just wear the Jar-Jar Binks watch to our wedding one day.”

Our wedding one day. 

Your heart just about explodes, and the only thing you can do to not choke up is smack him even harder. 

Our wedding. 

It has a nice ring to it. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” you tell him instead.

There’ll be plenty of other moments to talk about that. Now, when he still wears the ugliest watch you’ve ever laid eyes on, is not the time. 

“Gotta catch me first,” he teases as he slowly backs away, a twinkle in his eyes that makes you question if he knows how you’d secretly felt about that joke. That makes you question if he and Steve Harrington had really only been shopping for Steve’s rings for the last year. 

He doesn’t even run to the counter, knowing that you won’t be chasing him. You’re content to stay back and wait. You’ll always wait on him, really.

Even if it meant waiting for the day he wore that goddamn watch on your wedding day, because at the end of it all, you’d probably let him. You’d even wear the Darth Maul watch to match if he insisted. 

You’d let him wear whatever he wants, and you’d wear whatever he insists upon, because at the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter – it’d be enough to simply marry the dork that just tripped on his way up on the counter while giggling over a watch on his wrist, and know that he’s yours, forever.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo @findmeincorneliastreet

join my taglist!

[choccy-milky]

MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕

[a-dope-fiend]

It irritates me alot when people say that making medic more compassionate is ''missing the point of his character'' when he is literally shown to be in the comics.... did you miss the part where he showed concern for both sniper and miss pauling's well being in comic 5 and 6.

His actions are a combination of genuine attachment + clinical interest and these things do not cancel out one another. He is always pushing boundaries and going against the grain and i think this is what led to him losing his license in the first place. He felt stifled by the rules imposed on him.

He is shown to be extremely passionate so it makes sense that he would use his endless fascination with medicine as a way to show his affection. He loves his friends so he will find a way to make them borderline indestructible. Malpractice is his love language.

[dukeofthomas]

Here's my controversial opinion; if you're trying to write Bruce as a non-abusive, good parent, you should also write him respecting his kids' privacy, boundaries, and not stalking&surveying them.

[univemma]

What's my favourite scene in X-Men First Class? Well, easy, it's the scene where Hank shows up as Beast for the first time in the hangar. Why, you may ask?

Because, after the eternally hilarious exchange that is "never looked better man" "dont mock me" and Hank choking the life out of Erik,

After he puts him down and you can see behind them, we reach my favourite part of this scene:

Alex, who had been 2 seconds away from Actually mocking him, realising that after the bullshit he's been putting him through, Hank would have Genuinely Fucking Killed Him

'Holy shit, do not call him a bozo he will shatter your spine. do NOT-'

[jedi-starbird]

No one ever tells Obi-Wan that he is his Master's padawan.

Of course, for most people who had known Qui-Gon Jinn, telling someone else they resembled the the man would in fact be a thinly veiled insult. But still, Obi-Wan feels the absence of comparisons almost as strongly as he feels the absence of his Master.

There is no one for Obi-Wan to push against now, no strong presence at his side, ready to grab him by scruff and pull him back from another reckless stunt. It's an odd feeling. He has been set loose against his wishes. There is no one to his left and Anakin at his heels, but Anakin had needed, still needs, a strong, gentle figure for his prickly but sensitive heart. For even their worst bickering could not hold a candle to the scathing remarks he and Qui-Gon had shot at each other and Obi-Wan knows he cannot push and needle Anakin in the same way.

When Qui-Gon had been alive they had been an amusing, mirrored pair, the maverick and his rule-following padawan. Opposites clashing against each other, yet working together to complete the most difficult missions. Few saw that Qui-Gon's impertinence had indeed rubbed off on his padawan, cultivated from that small, angry initiate, because the only way to rebel against the rule-breaker had been to parrot the Council fastidiously. No one would ever get to see that again. Obi-Wan is one half of a mirrored pair trying to complete a routine on his own. What once was an impish, teasing compliance is now a betrayal of all his Master's values.

"How could Qui-Gon raise such a model Jedi?" He hears them say, "It's admirable that Master Kenobi was appointed to the Council despite his Master's maverick ways."

Padawan Kenobi would have yelled and kicked and screamed. Master Kenobi is serene. It should feel like an achievement. It feels like a disappointment.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan looks at the shape of the man he has moulded himself into, and aches to be his Master's padawan.

[erabu-san]

alhaitham in your style is making me go feral please please please can i ask for haitham doodles

thank you and have a good day/night and continue making bloody amazing art <333

glad you like him in my artstyle !! here for youuu

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At the start of this project all I wanted was to 'learn how to draw' using comics as a medium and the MDZS audio drama as inspiration.

I've come *very* far from making simple, 3 panel black and white comics, and I truly do intend to go even further. Thank you to everyone who cheered me on throughout 2023, it has been an incredible year in so many ways I never could have imagined. I look forwards to drawing throughout 2024 B*)

[skunkes]

[turtleblogatlast]

Fun little silly thought I had about the Lair Games and specifically Leo deliberately losing is all the reasons he could have for doing so.

My favorite headcanon for his main motivation is that Splinter wasn’t proud of him anymore.

I imagine that, in the beginning, winning the Lair Games was Leo’s opportunity to shine. He wasn’t artistic or the baby of the family like Mikey, wasn’t a tech genius who created amazing inventions like Donnie, wasn’t the eldest who was insanely strong and dependable like Raph. So he had to shine somewhere else- anywhere else- and what better way to get attention than to be a winner? A champion?

And then he won too much. And it wasn’t special anymore. He got too big headed, too cocky, he knew this was his element and he ran with it.

Splinter’s words of congratulations slowly petered out. Suddenly, there was no real reason to win.

Winning feels empty when the only one cheering you on is yourself.

So- Leo schemed. And he’s a great schemer, fooling his whole family (and Donnie did deserve a win- people were way happier when he won.)

He even gave up his prized possession! His room!

Though he knows his brothers probably think it’s a bad prize. A terrible one, even.

Leo doesn’t sleep much as is, though. So Dad’s snores were more comforting than anything. It was reassuring to hear him so clearly alive and close by.

Even if the distance between them was larger than Leo’d like.

He’d just have to find something else, something more to show his dad that Leo was someone to trust, to be proud of, to love.

He gets his chance soon after, when he needs to pull off a plan against Big Mama at his dad’s side. Leo can only hope this victory is one that has a lasting effect when his father looks at him with pride once more.

Victory, for Leo, is a pretty loaded term.

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Yuu: Don't worry, Rollo. I mean, none of the NRC boys got punished, so...

Rollo:... What?

Yuu: Oh, yeah, Riddle over there? Was a tyrant, got pissed when someone went against him, overbloted and tried to kill everyone.

Riddle: Wait–

Yuu: Ruggie helped his Housewarden with a plan that could've potentially harmed a lot of people, only for said Housewarden to get pissed when the plan failed, overblot and try to kill everyone, starting with Ruggie himself.

Ruggie: At least he paid indemnity...

Yuu: Our boy Azul? Tried to enslave people for free labor, got pissed when his plans for destroyed, overbloted, stole everyone's magic and tried to kill everyone.

Azul: Prefect, please refrain–

Yuu: Jamil did a whole show: he brainwashed his Housewarden into being an asshole to get people to kick him out, once that failed, he overbloted and brainwashed his entire dorm to serve him and then tried to kill us when we tried stopping him.

Jamil: Hey, there's no need to bring that up–!

Yuu: Vil, Rook and Epel's Housewarden, got very envious of this person who was considered prettier. After he failed at killing his rival with poison, he overbloted and tried to kill everyone with poison.

Rook: Truly an grandiose spectacle!

Yuu: Idia was the worst, I think, he and his brother overbloted, then tried to free monsters to destroy the world so they could build a new one where they'd fit in.

Idia: Hrk!

Yuu: So don't worry about it, you'll be fine!

Rollo:...

[42wv]

it's maiami, not miami

[fireladybuckley]

I can’t believe a boyfriend made a silly sex joke to lighten the mood after both partners had a moment of vulnerability. The audacity. The horror. The normalcy! Unbelievable. How dare a conversation about feelings turn to levity. How dare a couple have a light chat about trauma-related things over dinner that doesn’t turn into an incredibly deep heart to heart instead of a joke and moving on. Unbelievable. I’m never watching this show again! 👎🏻