#conditionally
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yeesiine · 1 month ago
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May the love you give to others return to you multiplied and without conditions.
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carduelism · 2 years ago
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Theo is so real because his writing all poetic and professional but whenever he speaks his sentences are like 50% swears
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gravything · 8 months ago
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*if* I am relearning how to do deep work while/despite getting interrupted arbitrarily (or knowing that I will get interrupted) and not just getting lucky, it is going really really slowly
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extrasoggyfish · 1 month ago
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The Archivist meets the Archive.
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tampire · 4 months ago
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Yura of the Demon Hair
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soupdwelling · 10 months ago
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doodled some guy again
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zillychu · 1 year ago
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vampiiraaa · 2 months ago
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all steve wants to do is wash eddie's hair. not because it's dirty or anything, even though it probably is, it's more of a tactile thing. before they made it official, it was what he often caught himself staring at. longing for. steve just wants to appreciate it so badly. run his fingers through it, tell its owner how badly he loves it. how badly he loves him. so a few months into their relationship he finally asks if he can just commit a night to 'eddie hair time'.
eddie would do just about anything for steve, and who's he to turn down a bath with the hottest guy in town? especially when he still spends a good amount of time shocked that steve actually is his boyfriend now. so one sunday they settle into steve's huge bathtub and make a moment of it. between steve's absolute obsession with setting eddie's curls correctly and eddie inevitably flipping his wet hair back into steve's face- it's actually pretty fun.
so eddie pretty quickly asks to do the same for steve. steve brushes him off at first, citing his commitment to his famous hair routine. to be honest, steve is a little scared by the idea. by how vulnerable it feels. to opening himself up to being cared for so delicately. of course, he could do that for eddie, but accepting it for himself was a different story. eddie was beautiful, he deserved to have someone worsip him. steve didn't really feel like he deserved that in return. but eddie wants his turn, loving his man, so he pouts a little until steve agrees.
steve is prepared for eddie to be absolutely ridiculous about it (and slightly worried eddie's gonna use his 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash). but eddie isn't quite what he expected. he never really has been after all. and when it comes to hairwashing, there isn't any stupid prank or shitty shampoo. instead, eddie perfectly executes steve's hair routine. he uses every product and every technique he's seen. he does it gently, too, taking every moment to care for steve the way he deserves. when steve asks how he knows every step of his routine, eddie's answer is straightforward.
'i always pay attention to you sunshine, y'know i could watch you do anything'
steve has never felt more loved.
from then on, once a month, they make time to wash each other's hair.
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bruciemilf · 3 months ago
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Give Goku his bitchass brother back
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voisbian · 24 days ago
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got a really scrunkly eevee plush and it matches my limp eared idiot <3
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captainzigo · 4 months ago
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phoenixkaptain · 2 years ago
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I really want to explore Tim “rich kid” Drake spending time with his friends and them just slowly realizing that Robin is even weirder than they thought.
Like, Arrowette complains about some press event or something that her mom wants her to go to and Robin just starts listing off advice and unspoken rules and tells her to absolutely avoid the shrimp cocktails unless she wants an early out, in which case the correct amount to eat is one and a half shrimp with only a bit of cocktail sauce, which will be enough to change her complexion and convince people she doesn’t feel well and allow her to escape to the restroom, then she just needs to slip out one of the windows-
Or Wonder Girl commenting on, like, a science fair project or something and he just goes “Science fairs are the worst. Everyone wants to buy your services to make them something, not understanding that you’re richer than they are and that an insult to you could lead to you buying their parents’ companies if they don’t shut up. They’re lucky I have an even temper…” WG: “…wat.”
Superboy is like “man, Superman’s trying to convince me to clean my room. What should I do?” and Tim just stares blankly at him because nobody has ever told him to clean his room before and he’s never cleaned his room before and he had no idea Clark was so cruel and-
Impulse: “Hey, Rob, pass me a can opener.”
Robin, staring into the drawer, fifteen can openers right in front of his eyes: “We don’t have one.”
I just want Tim to inexplicably not know some things because he’s never had to know them. I want him to explicably know things because he had to know them. I want the things he does know and the things he doesn’t to be totally backwards to everyone, who are all wondering why Robin knows how to hotwire a car but does not know how to work a vacuum cleaner.
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joons · 12 days ago
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sere-ness-ima · 4 months ago
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source: art by @temtamoo
my commission from @temtamoo of hetalia France and Poland during Napoleonic wars!
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pearynice · 1 year ago
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Eddie doesn’t like spending time away from Steve. 
He’s fine during the day. He can do his job and chat with his coworkers and do what he needs to do without thinking too much on it, but there is nothing in the world that he looks forward to more than being able to come home every evening to the love of his life. Nothing more gratifying than being the person that makes Steve smile when he walks through their front door. No better feeling than Steve welcoming him home.
So call it unhealthy, call him whipped or codependent or whatever else, but Eddie doesn’t like spending extended time away from his boyfriend. Maybe it was the more-than-one near death experience, the nights they spent in hospital waiting rooms, not allowed to be at each other’s bedside, but being away from Steve, especially at night, makes him anxious. Makes his heart rate pick up and his palms sweat, makes him ruminate on whether or not Steve is okay.
So Eddie hasn’t exactly been sleeping. Or eating all that well. Not for the past three days, at least. Because Steve is at a teacher’s conference in Chicago for the week, only leaving under Eddie’s profuse and continued promises that he’d be fine. That Eddie can survive a week without him. 
Which he can. It just doesn’t mean it’s exactly pleasant. Especially today. Because Eddie has the day off, and there’s not much to distract him from the gaping, Steve-sized hole in it. 
He starts by doing the laundry. Washes their sheets. Washes every throw blankets and every towel, moves onto the kitchen while the washer rumbles and does all the dishes. He goes on the truly spiritual experience of cleaning their dishwasher. Which, why must things that do the cleaning need to be cleaned? He scrubs the grime from the shower and wipes the spit from the sink, vacuums the rugs and wipes down the windows, organizes their pantry and cleans out the fridge. 
By the time he’s done his fingers ache. His back smarts from where he spent too long hunched over their tub, and still he misses Steve. 
Who is coming back tomorrow. Late in the evening, sure, but realistically Eddie only needs to survive another 30 hours. 
Which is far too long. 
He considers baking something. Like those those blueberry muffins Steve likes so much, but Eddie just knows by the end he’d have shitty muffins and a dirty kitchen.
So he tries to read. Tries to play guitar and write some songs, tries watching TV and listening to music, even tries going on a walk to pick up some dinner he knows he won’t eat, finally taking Steve’s advice on fresh air to heart. But as the clock ticks on, the itch under his skin only gets worse.
Not even their nightly phone call helps. 
He can tell Steve knows something’s up, keeps reminding him he’ll be back tomorrow, that it’s just one more night, because despite Eddie’s best attempt at deflection Steve knows him far too well.
“Tomorrow.” Steve reminds him, again, at the end of their call.
“Tomorrow.” Eddie repeats. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Eddie misses his boyfriend. 
He tries to sleep. Can’t, of course. He tosses and turns in his bed and then tosses and turns on the couch with the TV humming staticky with whatever late-night garbage he has it on. 
And he just—has to do something. Keep occupied until the sun comes up and he can go to work and lose himself in whatever car some idiot brought in because he didn’t change the oil. Keep his hands busy enough to keep his mind busy, too.
He sits bolt upright. Remembers, suddenly, the bleach and hair dye he’s almost positive Robin left here. 
It doesn’t take him long to find. He’d organized them, without even realizing, nestled them between all of Steve’s bottles and jars and potions. 
Never one for instructions, Eddie remembers Steve mixing the bleach with something else before he smeared it over Robin’s hair. 
It was white. He remembers that much. Thick and gloopy. Like… conditioner?
He mixes the two together in an old Tupperware with a toothbrush, the smell sort of making his eyes water. 
He can’t see much of the back of his head, but he’s just getting the ends, anyways. 
Eventually the toothbrush becomes cumbersome, and he massages the last of it in with his fingers. 
He’s pretty glad that part goes quick because after a minute he can feel his cuticles begin to burn. 
He remembers Steve wrapping Robin’s hair in a plastic bag, and he finds one, eventually, has to fish out a crumpled receipt but sticks that over his head. And waits.
He forgot about the waiting part. That he’d have to sit here while the bleach did its thing and then again when he puts on the red. 
He sits on the toilet with the lid down, picking at his firey cuticles. The clock in the hallway reads nearly 5 a.m., which means Eddie has at least four more hours to kill. 
He goes through their drawers again, wondering if Steve maybe has a different color hiding around. He thinks green would be cool. Maybe pink.
But Eddie doesn’t find another color. He finds, instead, his sewing kit. And he thinks of all the goofy tattoos his has. The goofy tattoos he gave himself. His dice. His Tree of Gondor. His triceratops. And, really, how it’s a shame he hasn’t gotten one for Steve. 
He knows what he’s doing and where before he even has all the supplies, snapping a ballpoint into a small dish and sterilizing the needle with his lighter. He shaves his inner thigh and washes out the bleach from his hair, which is a little underwhelming, honestly, having done little to lighten his dark locks. 
He puts the red in regardless, puts his plastic bag hat back on and gets to work on his thigh. 
And that’s how Jeff finds him. Appearing, in Eddie’s bathroom doorway, two coffee cups in hand. He takes in the plastic bag, smeared with red, on his head, Eddie’s bald and inky leg.
Eddie has no idea what time it is.
He looks down at himself. “I think Steve is… 86% of my impulse control.” 
Jeff doesn’t say anything. Just rests the coffees on the sink and crouches to look at Eddie’s fresh ink. 
“Is that… hairspray?”
“Three puffs!” Eddie answers, a little deliriously, and dips the needle back into the ink to start the third said puff. “How’d you get in here?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the needle. 
“How do you always forget you gave me a key?” Jeff snorts, and then, a little softer, adds, “Steve asked me to swing by before your shift today, you know. Bring you some food.”
Eddie’s gaze flicks to the coffee as he dips his needle in again. “I only see caffeine, here, Williams.”
Jeff’s quiet for a moment before, “how about you finish that up, wash that dye from your hair, and then I’ll give you the food?” Jeff’s voice is still all gentle and obnoxious, and Eddie resists the urge of poking him with the needle.
But Eddie’s almost done with the last puff, anyways, and… breakfast does sound nice. 
“‘M almost done.” He mumbles. 
Jeff sits on the bathroom floor, sipping his coffee and watching Eddie finishes. Then he helps him untangle the plastic bag from his hair. Then makes sure whatever soap they have is unscented, makes sure whatever Eddie’s about to slather all over his thigh won’t turn it septic. 
Damn paramedics. 
In the shower, though, Eddie’s exhaustion starts to creep up on him. Four days with little sleep makes his eyelids droop in the warmth. Makes his shoulders sag as he washes the dye out of his hair. Makes his limbs heavy as he cleans his new tattoo, which, looks pretty damn good, if he does say so himself.
A can of hairspray. Three puffs. 
Eddie towels off, only a little disappointed that the dye didn’t do much. He can see it, a little, but only if the light hits it just right.
Jeff’s waiting for him with a greasy breakfast sandwich and coffee, and Eddie bites into it before he’s even seated, moaning at the taste. 
“Jesus.” Jeff mutters, “let’s wait until Steve gets back for that, okay?”
Eddie doesn’t have the energy to bite back, just takes another bite before he swallows the first. “Fank ‘oo,” Eddie grunts, word garbled around egg and sausage and cheese. He swallows. Looks down at his hands. “For.” The skin of his inner thigh is pink. “Everything.” He takes another bite. 
Jeff smiles. “And miss whatever disaster just happened in your bathroom? Not a chance, Munson.” He puts down his coffee cup. “I did call you in sick from work today, though. Just so you know.”
Eddie drops his sandwich. “Jeff!” Egg flies across the table. “What the fuck!”
Jeff raises his eyebrows and dusts Eddie’s food from his shirt. “You can barely keep your eyes open. I’m protecting you from dropping a car on yourself during a tire rotation.”
Eddie swallows, hands already twitching, “dude. I’m gonna go insane here by myself.”
Jeff raises his other eyebrow.
“More insane.” Eddie corrects. His leg starts to bounce.
“Good thing I’m gonna be keeping you company, then.” Jeff leans back in his chair, picking up his coffee and tilting the styrofoam at Eddie. “Movie marathon?”
Between he and Steve they only have about three decent movies, but Eddie finishes his sandwich on the couch as Jeff fiddles with the VCR. 
The movie begins, and that wave of exhaustion returns. Floods him. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. He leans into Jeff’s side. Who isn’t Steve, but who smells nice. Like linen.
Jeff rests his cheek on Eddie’s head. “Sleep, man.” He mumbles.
So Eddie does.
He doesn’t know how long he was asleep. But he wakes to a hand in his hair. To fingers massaging his scalp, and he knows before he even asks. “‘Teve?”
“Hi, baby.” Steve whispers, his hand stills, and he pulls Eddie closer. 
Steve feels so good. Warm and strong and here and here. 
Eddie opens his eyes only to bury himself in Steve’s chest, his boyfriend falling back onto the couch to accommodate, his arms winding around Eddie’s middle. 
“I missed you.” Eddie murmurs, and breathes Steve in, presses his nose into his sweatshirt and curls closer, fists his hands into Steve’s clothes and holds on tight.
“I missed you, too.” Steve sighs. He sounds tired. “Let’s… not do that again.”
Eddie shakes his head. “Never again.” He agrees. 
Steve shifts, opens his legs so Eddie falls between them. “I played hooky on the all-hands luncheon today.” Steve admits, quiet. “Didn’t feel like sitting around with them all day when I could be here with you.” Steve’s hand returns to his hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. “Did you… dye your hair?”
“N’ got a tattoo.” Eddie hums.
Steve giggles, and kisses the top of Eddie’s head. “I like it.” Steve’s fingers dance across his scalp, and Eddie never wants to go another night without this. 
“I like you.” Eddie volleys back, and he feels Steve laugh, feels it rumble through his chest because Steve is here and he’s laughing and then there’s another kiss placed on Eddie’s head before Steve murmurs, “I like you too, baby.”
My permanent tag list 💗: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle
@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre
@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade
(Sorry taglist that you’re getting tagged late I’m still getting used to tumblrs new STUPID TAGGING SYSTEM)
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zorangezest · 10 days ago
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*Ominously takes a seat at a dimly lit table with my features shrouded in darkness like I'm some mafia boss.*
So I just saw your latest post about your oc...
Who is Deepfreeze and why do I like her immediately 👁
ominously takes a seat across from you…she’s a character I made a while back and she appears in some of the switcheroo comics!
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she transforms into a samsung refrigerator which is a virtually useless alt mode on cybertron. no one knows what she’s doing here. I don’t think she even knows there’s a war going on
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(The microwave oc belongs to @justastabbylilgay!)
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