#emergency commissions. but until then. yeah..

[thewoundedmind]

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS

Living as a Gen Z nowadays is... pretty hard. It's depressing and really depends on luck: or you had a chance to blow up, or you gonna kick a wall until you give up. In most cases. Or at least its feels like it for me. For me, as Gen Z person, who can't get education (wait for it), has an unstable mental state (you'll see!), AND who living for decade now in the war zone, it's kinda difficult find a job, that not going to abuse me with frustrating amount of hours, a lot of work, and underpayment. The last one at least didn't had a lot of work, but they changed my working hours to 24 hours, so my body began to sleep LESS even in my day offs. So, the only choice now for me it's to do what I can do for a living, before I find a job again, and, you know, to find a normal work fo me it's a difficult quest. Not unbearable, but difficult.

So yeah, emergency commissions, once again. Repost is needed and very appreciated.

You can reach me here in DM, in Telegram (@woundedmind_wm), in Insta (@the.woundedmind) or through email woundedmindwm@gmai.com

Also, you can check my partner, they are even cooler then me (and they definitely need repost too!) ----->

Слава Україні!

[dairyfreenugget]

Okay so, my phone got completely messed up, the screen is cracked to hell and back so I can't draw anything. Since commissions and adoptables are my only source of income, I need to get it repaired as soon as I can but I can't afford it right now

If anybody could donate anything I'd greatly appreciate it

For every donation I'll be drawing a traditional doodle! Just send me a DM :]

PayPal: sst.commissions@gmail.com

Ko-fi:

[nkogneatho]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐃!𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒.

#emergency commissions!!

#mlist #taglist #liawot #whoreclub

—Characters- Isagi, Shidou, Nagi, Rin, Bachira, Barou.

—cw: gut clenching, deep, vulg@r analysis, gagging, choking, size kink, hex codes.

—A/n: You can hate me but you can't disagree with me on this. Writing this made my mum whoop my ass because the milk on the stove burnt while I was thinking about the color of Barou's cock.

Reblogs are highly appreciated.

𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈

code: #EBC4A7

Alright listen. Yoichi's dick is not too girthy, not too long. BUT, it's just perfect. It's 5.7 inch. The head takes up about an inch. It's not fat but rather a bit aligned with the body of his dick. It's perfect because he slides in so easily, your juices and the skin on his shaft creating noises that are nore lewd than your moans. He isn't really veiny but there are slight green traces visible. If you lick a stripe on it, you can feel the veins on your tongue. Yoichi loves the way you adore his dick. You know how his personality switches up so fast in the field when he scores? Yeah he feels the same shit when you have your eyes scan that perfection. He really has a pretty face and a pretty dick. Yoichi is proud of his size though. He doesn't care about having a big monster cock(eyeing bachira rn) because he still has you moaning, screaming, whimpering his name when he rails you after a win.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

Code: #734125

Here me out. Shidou is just a little longer than average but fat asf. He really doesn't give to fucks about being longer because that fat meat??? That cock will slide in anyone and rewire their brain into loving his size. He is girthy, it looks like a big love sausage (not my words. that's what he calls it. Slut asf). You know when he is getting turned on, his dick does that spring thing where it slowly gets up until his mushroom tip has surpassed the trimmed hair on his crotch. You thought that shit only happens in porn but Mr. Shidpu Ryuusei from big dick community proved you wrong. Speaking of tips, Shidou's tip is fat, one shade lighter than his brown base. He has a pretty visible opening on it. You can always see the way his cum seeps out and falls on your face (if you are lucky enough to dodge the string of it reaching your lashes, blurring your vision because this mf always shoots it near your eyes) He does it on purpose btw.

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

Code: #F2BCA5

Oh boy!! Rin has a long one. We're talking about atleast 6.5 to 7 inches. Again the one where his length makes up for the girth. So what if it isn't fat? it's long enough for you to choke on it. It is frustrating because you always struggle swallowing him whole. Rin wants nothing but to hit the back of your throat while your lips atleast brush against his balls but it is impossible to do so without gagging. He knows it, but he'llnevwr show that smug expressionon his face. Instead he's awarding himself for making you gag on it, internally. He always needs to guide you to it. His dick is like a lighter peach color, but the tip is pink. Again the tip isn't what is big but the body of his cock. You have to have a hand at the base to make sure you are stimulating his whole shaft while giving him head.

𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎

Code: #F2CDC2

Nah cuz Nagi really won. He us another guy who's dick is as pretty as him. Like we're talking about immaculate facial feature and a beautiful dick??? *Chefs kiss* Now about the size, it looks the right size, right? But you're proven wrong because he is one of those guys who gets bigger as he is more turned on. You underestimate him, thinking you can take him, but tears brim your eyes when you find his tip kissing the spot, and he isn't even fully in yet. AND HE HAS THE NEVER TO SMILE AS YOU STRUGGLE TO TAKE HIM IN. He isn't even mocking you. That's just Nagi Seishiro's amused expression. Again Nagi has a pretty similar tip as a Isagi. It isn't a big mushroom tip but a bulge that softens as it follows the lines on the cock. Sei has a color somewhat similar between a pink and peach, with a cooler undertone.

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

Code: #EEC0A2

Haha all the best y'all. He is one of those guys who looks short but has a monster cock hidden inside his pants. He is so casual about it though for what??? Like sir hello?? I can see that dick print through the sweats. Bachira never flexed about his size. He didn't care and thought it never mattered. It's so funny that he gets confused when you widen your eyes when he is out of the shower ALL NAKED, and you have to witness it all hard, fat and sprung up becaus ehe was in there thinking about you. He has very visible veins on his cock. You can the dark and light green lines on them. Despite having a big dick, Bachira makes sure to ease it in you. He has a fished-mouth tip, flushed rose pink color, and he cums a lot. I am talking thick ropes spurting on your stomach when he pulls out.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐈

Code: #FCDDC7

I am being biased here but I couldn't give two shits about it because I know y'all will agree. Listen. HORSE COCK BAROU. You know it bitch. Don't deny. He is biiig. You thought he was fucking around when he said he has a big package but DAMN. Homeboy wasn't lying when you saw him in the locker room for the first time, with a boner that surpasses his belly button. You gulp down after a while of hanging your jaw open with awe. Barou had thick veins baby. Dotted condom who??? We have Barou with them thick veins that pleasure you the way no mfing condom can. He also has fat balls which means now you get why he has the balls to call others donkey and that king complex shit of his. About his tip? Yeah it takes up about 1.5 inches of his cock, and pops out like champagne cork when he pulls out of you.

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk. I am your host, pasi. REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG for part 2

Tagging: @milophiliac @satorhime @witchofoe @gojoest @tetsuclez @pu-re-love @sugardaddyreo @loml-riri @aztecbrujeria @his-saiko

[green-alien-turdz]

Hi, hello, I'm one more minute away from bashing my head into a wall. I know people showed some interest before, so I'm thinking of opening emergency commissions.

Bullshit n more under the cut vv

So on Friday my gma had a health emergency. She almost died. I got up to Washington immediately to be with her n it was super fuckin bad. We genuinely weren't sure if she was gonna make it. She had let it get so bad bcuz she not only couldn't afford to go to the doctors, but she was also embarrassed of some swelling in her legs. I can't even begin to list how much shit they had to take care of once she got into the ER. She then went to ICU, then PCU, and is soon to be moved to a normal room (but she's still not good). She's gonna have to go into a rehab for at least a month to get mobile enough to where I can handle it. I have no clue how we are gonna pay. The amount of medical debt we are gonna be in is fuckin insane. Her medicare might cover some, imma have to see what we can do.

She also takes care of my cousin. So I had to quit both of my jobs and I'm movin up to tacoma for the next few months so I can take care of my cousin and my gma when she's outta rehab.

The reason I need to open commissions is bcuz I legit can't get an actual job up here. My cousin will need me there morning and night- luckily school is startin up next week. Then my gma will need me to take care of her when she's back. I don't know when she's gonna be better. There's even a fuckin chance she WON'T recover, which us my worst fuckin fear. I gotta leave my life behind n just take care of family for a while. My gma raised me, so it's the least I can do.

I have some saved up that I was gonna use to move out, but imma have to use it to take care of my gma n cousin- so I was hopin to do somethin like commissions to get at least some cash comin in. I take up random gigs offa craigslist when I can, but I can't do much durin the day until school starts up n I'll have the afternoons to work.

If anyone is interested in commissions, could you leave a comment sayin which application/programs are best payment wise? I feel gross doin this. Ion know, it feels like beggin, I hate recievin money from shit other than work, but I gotta do somethin. Just let me know what works easiest for people so I know what I need to set up. If anyone is interested- if not, I totally get it. If there's enough intrigue, I'll make a post talkin about what commissions I'll offer.

Uhhh yeah, I'll be back soon or some shit.

[wherenymphsroam]

LUUUUUNNNEEEEEE :333

Got me thinking about Leon/Chris!!!

I want them 😭😭😭

MANDA !!!!

(oh my goodness this is so late we r gonna … ignore that)

but YEAH M STILL THINKING ABT THEM.

been thinking specifically abt…. like cuck leon. he will never admit it out loud, but he loves loves loves sharing his baby. loves watching and tracking every facial expression, every twitch and jump, every reaction as you acclimate to someone new.

but chris specifically? he’s squirming.

and fuck if he knows why, but there is just something about watching chris pull you onto his lap, onto his cock that pulls a whine from leon. and chris notices, of course he does — how could he not, Leon’s got you held against his chest. it’s like he’s fucking leon by extension in this position.

“try not to sound so jealous,” chris mutters under his breath, a strained groan as his pelvis settles flush against your cunt. it was no wonder why leon could never shut his mouth about you, your cunt was heaven.

“what’s that s’posed to mean?” leon forces a scoff, glaring up at chris through his lashes. it was almost cute, seeing the conflict etched over leon’s features. that furrow in his brow that begs to convey his attempt at preserving his pride. it still wasn’t easy, being honest about how much he liked watching the older man split you open on his cock. but you knew, if leons bulge rutting into your back had anything to say about it.

“come on now…” the older man chuckles as he hoists your thighs wider, thick fingers splayed firmly over your soft skin. “it’s about time we’re honest, don’t you think?”

chris’s gaze meets leon’s just as he pulls your thighs wider, wider until he’s sliding his hands to hold the backs of your knees, and he pushes. Pressing down until your feet dangle in the air, until your knees make contact with your chest, chris gives leon the best damn seat in the house. like this, leon is practically forced into seeing just how thick chris is, how much you were stretched around him. how fucking wet you are, slick glistening over the insides of your thighs.

“how long has she wanted this? huh?” Chris mutters, eyes trained on you. he’s talking to leon, sure. but everyone knows his inquiry is a double edged sword. his hips draw back, painstakingly so, ensuring you feel every damn inch as he withdrawals.

“told me all about hwo pretty she is, how fuckin- good this cunt is-“

and right back in he goes, pelvis mushing against your cunt once more. it’s obscene, the sight of the action, the way your cunt so eagerly swallows him back up. leon forces a hard swallow, doing his damn best not to audibly gasp when you keen beneath chris.

“I find it interesting you conveniently left out the part… about how greedy she is,” chris groans then, head bobbing with the effort of not letting it drop. he’s tempted to rest his forehead down on your shoulder, his body is screaming for him to smother everything you are, envelope you whole. but for the sake of leons view of you, he holds back. the satisfaction of watching leon see how you responded to him far outweighed the pleasured of taking what he wants.

“so tell me,” chris continues, biting back a growl. his voice is strained, his entire body tense. like a predator toying with its food, dragging out its eventual undoing.

“was this.. really your idea? or do we have a greedy little slut on our hands?”

I have emergency commissions open! please consider contributing/rb’ing :^)

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 2 Prompt: Winter Sentence Starters

3. Did you know icicles make the perfect murder weapon?

Pairing: Pre-Steddie | wc: 1664 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Steve?” Eddie asks, squinting into the blinding lights of the familiar burgundy Beamer that’s parked in front of the mound of snow where the driveway usually is. It’s hard to see with the blinding lights and the sunrise bouncing off the bright snow, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s Steve. He’s the only one who drives a Beamer around these parts of town, that’s for sure.

Sitting up on the outdoor couch, he adjusts the bundle of blankets around his shoulder. His hand fumbles in between the couch cushions until he finds the half-empty box of cigarettes and the lighter he and Wayne keep stashed there “in case of emergencies.” It’s a bit of a chore given the gloves covering his hands, but he gets the job done and brings the lit smoke to his winter-chapped lips. After a slow exhale, he tries again.

“Steve? What the hell are you doing here?”

There’s a clattering on the other side of the Beamer, followed by a string of curses before a figure emerges in the shadows of the lights. “Jesus dude,” Steve gasps. One hand stays pressed against his chest, the other clings to a snow shovel. “What the hell are you doing here? You should be inside it’s freezing out.”

It is freezing out, but there’s not that big of a difference between out here and inside Eddie’s bedroom. Not since the space heater took a shit at 2 am. He tried to fix it, he did. But it’s actually really damn hard to fix a space heater at 2 am when you’ve only slept for an hour because of chronic pain and nightmares and you can’t find the damn toolbox that’s supposed to be tucked away in the closet.

Frustrated beyond belief, Eddie needed a smoke and one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew he was being woken up by the rumbling of Steve’s Beamer. At least he was smart enough to put on gloves and wrap himself in his duvet before coming out here.

“Seriously, man. You’re going to freeze to death.”

“You know the dramatics are my thing,” Eddie teases, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. “I’ve got a blanket and gloves.” Eddie wiggles his fingers for extra emphasis. “And this head of hair isn’t just for looks. Actually keeps me pretty warm too.”

Steve snorts, absentmindedly tugging on the end of his scarf. “Yeah, okay, man. Whatever you say.”

“So, I ask again,” Eddie says, pausing to exhale another puff of smoke. “What are you doing here at whatever time it is.”

“It’s 5,” Steve supplies, then holds up the snow shovel. “Who do you think shovels the snow around here since you’re out of commission? The snow fairy?”

The smoke in Eddie’s lungs gets trapped as his body tries to laugh and instead, he sends himself into a coughing fit that has him clutching his already aching sides. “First of all fuck you. Don’t joke about fairies!” he says, all bark no bite. “Secondly, I usually shovel the snow, but as you are aware, I’m still not allowed to lift more than two pounds thanks to our wonderful Spring Break adventures.”

“And you’re milking that for all it’s worth.”

Eddie’s quick to flip him the bird, rolling his eyes in the process. “S’Wayne paying you? That old bastard better not be paying you. I never got a dime when he made me shovel.”

“Probably because you always forgot, right?”

“You know what, Steve,” Eddie starts, trying to get up from the couch when a rush of pain races up his torso. Jesus H. Christ, he should be used to this by now. Biting his lip to keep the groan in, he settles himself back on the couch.

“M’just messing with you, Eds,” Steve says, shooting him an apologetic look. If anyone knows the pain he’s going through, it’s Steve. And yet, Steve’s wounds healed in record time, and Eddie’s on month nine of barely being able to make it down the three steps of his trailer. Yet another unfairness the universe has drawn for him.

“I was over helping the Mayfields during the last big storm and saw your uncle struggling to park after his shift. Figured if I’m here helping Max, I could help you guys out too. No big deal.”

Eddie’s not sure what universe Steve lives in, but agreeing to do manual labor for free is a big deal. A massive, big deal, actually. At least, in his universe it is. He doesn’t sign up for any sort of manual labor unless he’s getting paid. Fuck capitalism and all that, but also, you know, it’s only fair to cash in when it benefits him.

“Right, well, m’sure my uncle appreciates it.”

“He does,” Steve nods, resting the shovel on his shoulder. “So, you gonna quit distracting me now so I can get to work?”

Eddie extends one glove-covered hand out in front of him, fanning it out over the mountain of white snow separating them. “The snow is yours, my liege.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head. He takes a few steps away from the Beamer before repositioning the shovel in his hands. In one fluid motion, he drives the shovel the mix of  fresh and packed snow. The metal clatter against the frozen chunks at the bottom but the sound doesn’t drown out the groan that leaves Steve's lips as he hoists a giant pile of snow up and over to the side.

Jesus H. Christ.

Eddie takes an extra long drag from his cigarette, eyes glued to Steve as he does the same thing again. He holds the smoke in his lungs, tries to concentrate on not choking as he watches Steve shovel another massive pile of snow away.

There’s at least twenty feet of distance between them, but Eddie’s eyes are glued to Steve. His pale blue puffy jacket does a lot to obscure his muscles, but Eddie’s always had an overactive imagination. He doesn’t need a clear visual to know that Steve’s biceps are straining every time he hoists the shovel out of the snow. Or the way his back muscles flex, showing off that swimmer's upper body of his.

Steve’s ditched snow pants like most do around here and instead has his trusty pair of blue jeans on. Eddie knows from experience that denim does little to shield the freezing temperatures, but he can’t complain. Not when Steve’s ass is on full display when he squats to investigate what the shovel has just slammed into. (A stray dog toy from two trailers over.)

If he doesn’t look away soon, he’s going to be in trouble. Even the cold as fuck temperature can’t keep the blood from rushing to his dick for long. A blessing and a curse, Eddie supposes.

Taking another drag, Eddie tilts his head so it rests against the headrest of the couch. Exhaling, the plume of smoke and cold air mix, getting whisked away in the early morning breeze. It might actually be colder now than it was at 2 am.

With his head still turned upward, he can hear the rhythmic sounds of Steve shoveling the snow. The clink of the metal shovel with the snow, the scrape as he digs it down to the pavement. The occasional huff of frustration when Steve’s bitten off more than he can chew. Stubborn as always.

If he keeps making noises like that though, Eddie’s going to need a lot more than a smoke and a new direction for his eyes to keep his mind out of the gutter—

Speaking of gutters, they really need to get someone to clear out all the damn icicles clinging to them like damn Christmas trees. One harsh slam of the door and he or Wayne is going to take an icicle straight to the head. A month in a coma, seven months of physical therapy, and one dropped murder charge is not going to go to waste over a goddamn icicle. Not if he can help it at least.

Honestly, out of all of that, he’s still most upset about the murder thing. He won’t even go fishing with Wayne after that one year with the fish who flopped around practically hasping for breath until Wayne stabbed it with his pocket knife. Never again. Eddie prefers his food already cooked and void of eyes thank you very much.

Besides killing someone in his house is way too obvious. An amateur move if he’s ever seen one. He’d at least been more smart about it. If he was going to kill someone, but he’s not. Obviously. But if he was, Eddie’s thoughts trail off as the sun catches on the translucent icicle, washing his body in the warm rays of sunlight.

“You know, icicles would make the perfect murder weapon.”

The sound of the snow shovel clattering to the floor startles him. His head whips in the direction of the noises. It takes a moment a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light, but when they do Steve is staring at him, hands on his hips and a frown tugging at his pale lips.

“Maybe don’t joke about murder when we’ve just cleared your name,” Steve scolds, shaking his head. “Or do you want to go back into hiding?”

Eddie’s mouth is faster than his brain, words tumbling out before he has a chance to realize the implications of his words.

“Depends. Would you be hiding me again?”

A sickening silence falls between them as all the blood in Eddie’s body rushes to his cheeks. At least his nose isn’t cold anymore. He’s two seconds away from scampering into the trailer, head slung low in embarrassment when Steve’s unabashed chuckle breaks the silence.

“You can crash at my place anytime, you know.”

No, Eddie did not know that. But now? Now, he thinks that damn space heater isn’t worth bothering Wayne for after all.

[yarasdead]

matt and his pregnant gf are on my mind heavyyy today I just know he’d take the sweetest care of her :(

this is such a cute ask ahhhh i love dad!matt so much :(

matty & his pregnant gf.

matty would probably start to tear up when you tell him too. you found out earlier that day and just couldn't keep it from him for a long time. buzzing around your guys' home as you wait for his arrival. immediately jumping up when you hear his eyes jingling in the door. patiently waiting as you watch him set all of his things down, leave his shoes and hate near the door as he walks towards you. embracing you in a hug and kiss.

"missed you. been a long day." he mumbles against your lips.

you smile. "i think i have something that could make it better."

"oh, yeah?" he corks up an eyebrow at your words.

nodding, you reach behind you, removing the pregnancy test from the band in your sweatpants, handing it to him. he looks at it, taking in what the little word on it says.

pregnant.

he looks up at you, eyes wide."

"no way!"

"yes way."

he'd pull you into a bone crushing hug, burying himself in the crook of his neck. letting out a small, "thank you."

because matty melts when it comes to you, and now he melts for his unborn child too. thank you for making him a father, thanking you for wanting to go into parenthood together.

matt would be even more attentive from there on! always rushing to complete a task for you.

you're trying to reach for a bowl in the cupboard? matt's right behind you, hand on the small of your back getting it for you.

having midnight cravings? matt's slipping on a shirt, sweatpants, his hat, and slides and driving to the nearest store to get it for you. he even stays up along side with you as you eat it.

your feet and ankles swollen? he's guiding you to the couch, quickly turning on your comfort show before he runs to get a bottle of lotion to rub your feet.

are you months into pregnancy and your back is aching? matt is right there to stand behind you to push up and take some of the weight off of your back from the heavy bump.

don't even get me started on how the two of you announce it to bomens and the rest of the crew. you guys would probably wait until you enter your second trimester to make sure everything is healthy with the baby. it wouldn't be any extravagant reveal but you guys do privately commission someone to custom make a bad omens style onesie. matt would quietly slip away to get it from where the two of you have been keeping it away for this exact moment. he comes and ask the guys if they'd be interested in adding this to the next merch line up. they all just stare at the little onesie before it clicks and they look at you. a huge group hug definitely happens as they hurdle over to you while matt grumbles about giving you air.

you also cannot tell me that matt is not the biggest sucker for baby clothes. the tiny onesies, tiny socks, tiny shoes, tiny everything. it makes his heart swell at thinking that in just a few months you and him are going to have your own tiny human that is the perfect mix between the two of you.

reality hit him like a truck the first time he ever felt the baby kick.

"matty! come here quick!"

matt comes rushing from out the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

"wha' wa' wrong?" he ask the best he could with toothpaste in his mouth.

you giggle at him. "nothings wrong. sprout is moving, want you to feel them."

visibly seeing how matt becomes relaxed at the fact that both you and the baby are okay. he holds a finger out before going back into the bathroom. rinsing out his mouth and setting his toothbrush into the holder. emerging from the bathroom once again to climb into bed.

"you had me worried."

"'m sorry. i just want you to feel them." you apologized, taking one of matt's hands to place it on your growing belly, right over the spot you felt them kick.

after a few seconds of his hand being there, matt frowns at you. "i missed it."

"it's only been a few seconds. speak to them. they know your voice."

matt shifts further down the bed. resting his head against your belly.

"hi, sprout. i'm your daddy. your mom and i can't wait to meet you. i used to think life couldn't get better when i got with your mom, but now you're going to be here pretty soon, jus' gotta finish cooking. you're going to be the most badass kid ever because not only am i your dad but you're mom is the most badass person i know."

you smile down at him, bringing a hand to swipe some of the hair that fell in his face behind his ear.

"we already love you so much, more than anything."

and with that a kick.

[phoenixyfriend]

Good News Announcement

You guys have been fabulously supportive in the last year and change that I've been struggling, and I'm delighted to let you all know that...

I just started my dream job today.

I found out almost two weeks ago, but didn't want to say anything until it was 'locked in,' so to speak.

And now it is! I have a job! A really good one, that I'm very excited about!

Thank you all so much for your support thus far, and I hope that this new routine, and less stress, will lead to a reignition of my writing spirit.

(I do have a commute of four hours round trip, but it's hybrid so... evens out? Also mostly by train, so I can write by hand in that part.)

I am still accepting donations (or commissions!)* on ko-fi, but it's not by any means an pressing need anymore. If you want a writing-related goal to support for this, I'm going to move closer to the city (and the new job) once I've built up a bit of a nest egg in case of emergency, and that'll cut down the commute by several hours... which I could use on writing for you guys!

* Yeah, the commissions have gone up in price as I realize that even 500 words take a few hours to research, and I usually end up closer to 1.5k words anyway. Can't really justify charging less than minimum wage, much as I love you guys.

[ciaomarie]

Part 6: What Then?

It's over kids! The longest and final chapter is done. Chris Storer & Co. are probably going to put our beloveds through it in S3, but until then let's enjoy our low-key angst and romance. Post Season 2, Canon-Compliant, swoony, girly, fluffy. A happy-ending obviously.

After 10 years of grinding himself into dust Carm’s body began to surrender. About a month after The Bear’s opening, he came down with a cold that turned into a low-grade fever, a bitter cough with lime green mucus, night sweats, and mind-numbing exhaustion. After two days Sydney and Fak showed up to his apartment and dragged him to the emergency room. It was pneumonia and dehydration. The young male doctor muttered that his lungs sounded just like his father’s, a 40-year smoker. Yes, pneumonia was the primary reason, but a man Carmy’s age should be in better shape. He was out of commission for a whole week. The regret of letting down The Bear crew so soon after the Friends and Family fiasco motivated him to make a couple changes. First, he allowed himself only one emergency cigarette a day, which he needed less and less. Second, he went outside on Mondays, when the restaurant was closed. If the temperature was over 30℉, he took the train or walked to a park. His favorites were Humboldt and the Garfield Park Conservatory. Today he had come to the latter with his sketchbook and pencils in his backpack. Since the renovation he had continued drawing.

As he went towards to his favorite bench, he noticed a slender woman walking ahead of him. Her height, long swishing braids and jacket were identical to Syd’s. He compulsively began jogging towards her. Before he could call out her name, the woman pounced on a tall lanky man in front of her, wrapping her arms around his waist. Carmen had the sensation of being pushed off a diving board unexpectedly, his stomach pitching forward, unable to breathe much less scream before slamming into the water like a brick. The man turned and picked up Sydney up, planting a kiss on her mouth. He spun her around and…she wasn’t Syd. Thank God.

Carm made his way to the bench and hunched over, his head in his hands. She wasn’t Syd he recanted over and over until the feeling of relief gave way to self-reproach. This time it wasn’t her, but one day it would be. Would he be able to live with that? Uncle Jimmy’s warning not to be an overthinking manichino flashed in his mind. It was time to do something. He took out his sketchpad and began thumbing through it, an idea beginning to take shape. Hopefully, it wouldn’t scare Syd away.

The following Monday Sydney was in her cousin’s salon getting her entire life. Her microbraids were taken out, her hair was washed, deep conditioned, her scalp massaged, and now she was getting box braids put in. They were accented with delicate gold hair cuffs. She drowsed in the chair, with an almost empty to-go container of jollof rice in her lap, as her cousin and another hair stylist quietly discussed the latest season of Love is Blind.

“Sydney babe, would you ever go on Love is Blind?” her cousin, Ashley, asked in a louder tone.

Syd startled and rubbed her eyes.

“Never. That’s insane.”

“I got a message on IG that it’s coming to Chicago. You live and breathe your job so when are you going to meet somebody? Maybe your soulmate is in one of those pods!”

“Why don’t you apply then? You could find “love” and get more exposure for the salon.”

“Same for you and your restaurant ma’am, but I have a man.”

“Since when?”

“Since three months ago. His name is David, he’s a chemical engineer and the son of you know, Ms. Jumoke, she goes to the African church on Mackinaw…St. Paul.”

“Yeah, I remember her. Her sister used to watch me when my dad worked nights.”

“Anyways, back to you. Are you dating anyone, or should I send you the show application?”

“I don’t think love is blind. Have you seen the people they cast? Nobody too unfortunate-looking gets on. It’s so shallow.”

 “Ha! You’re one to talk. You have a very distinct type…white boys with tats and muscles.”

“Ashley, there’s been two of them. Like, that’s not a pattern.”

“No, three! This boss, no “partner”, of yours, had Sydney written over him. The family never sees you anymore.”

“I came to lunch at uncle and auntie’s last month! Besides, opening a new business is like having a kid. You know this.”

“Sure, but when I had dinner at your restaurant and you introduced us, he complimented you for five minutes and then followed you to the kitchen like a whipped puppy.”

Sydney grinned biting her lower lip and covered her eyes. Her cousin stopped braiding and hugged her.

“Aww…my baby cousin is finally going to get some!”

“ASHLEY!” Sydney groaned pushing off her cousin’s arms.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop, but I am happy for you. He is sexy. That neck is thicker than a tree stump.”

Sydney who had just taken a sip of her sweet tea, spat it out all over the mirror.

“That’s on you, Ashley!” she choked out between laughing and coughing.

When she was able to contain herself, she tried to reel her cousin back in. Talking about romantic potential with Carmy gave her too much pleasure. If he was content with the status quo she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“Nothing really is going on. We’re business partners and we’re pretty good friends and it’s probably best we keep it that way.”

“Yes, and he gave you an equal share in the restaurant out of the friendly kindness of his heart.”

“You know, I think he would do that, because I’ve put in so much work, but it did feel like it was something more, at least his Uncle Cicero or Jimmy seemed to think so.”

“Girl, watch out. His sister and an uncle like you!? Would you take his last name, hyphenate, or keep Adamu?”

“Ugh, I’m not going there with you! Shouldn’t you be done with my hair by now?”

“If you want it done right it’ll be 2 more hours. If you don’t…30 minutes?”

“Fine, take your time but please let me sleep.”

Sydney closed her eyes, admiring her self-control. She hadn’t told Ashley that Carmy asked her to come by The Bear this evening. He was reworking a few old dishes. The invite was made at the end of the night a few days ago while they were turning off the lights. She said yes as they pulled down the last switch and she couldn’t see his expression, but she heard him exhale loudly as if he feared she’d decline. Sometimes they meet up on Mondays to network with vendors or collaborate on menu ideas, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary. However, she intuited he was hiding something again like when he and Nat surprised her with a share in the restaurant. This time she didn’t pester him for details, knowing that it was probably worth waiting for.

When Syd arrived home at 3:00 pm she could’ve folded laundry and watched an episode of Psych, but she decided to pretend this was a date; well, like she was preparing for a date. It was a long time since her last. She had entered the Convent of Failed Dreams after Sheridan. Then The Beef/The Bear became her world. The light blue cuffed jeans and stripped white and mint green button-down shirt she was wearing was more than appropriate for a food brainstorming session. However, Carmy’s mysterious attitude might be concealing more great news. She might as well look good when and if he had some.

She took a luxuriously long shower, shaved, and rubbed in her mandarin-scented body oil. Then she entered slowly sifted through her closet considering a red jumpsuit, or just nicer jeans and a blouse when her eyes fell on her marigold-colored shirt dress. It was knee length, comfortable, but chic and the color made her complexion pop. She paired it with a brown and gold oval buckle belt and brown flats because she might be standing in the kitchen for hours. After a short struggle she decided to keep the top two buttons of her shirt dress open. It was only a collar bone, not cleavage. Then she considered makeup. She hated wearing a lot of it; her skin felt suffocated with foundation. She did her brows, applied mascara, a little mineral powder, a smidge of highlighter on her cheekbones, and finished with the Fenty “Hot Choclit” gloss bomb her cousin had given her as part of a set for Christmas. Her new braids with the gold cuffs made the look even better and Sydney couldn’t help admiring herself more than usual in her floor-length mirror. She felt so delicious that she ordered an Uber rather than sit on the train. She would take it later or maybe Carm would give her a ride home.

Just before she could lock the door Emmanuel came up the stairwell, his face lighting up.

“My baby girl, you are stunning! Where are you headed?”

“Thanks, daddy. I’m just going to the restaurant. Felt like dressing up for once.”

“So, is it a staff meeting?”

“No, just working on some recipes. I gotta go. My Uber’s waiting.”

Emmanuel leaned against the door and nodded with a sly smile.

“Oh okay, I see. Tell Carmen I said hello. Have fun!”

Sydney’s eyes widened and she ran down the stairs waving goodbye. Her voice couldn’t be trusted.

When the car arrived at the restaurant, the sky was overcast, the evening darker than usual for the time of year. She let herself in and observed the layout. The lights were low, and the back center booth was set for dinner, with a single table candlelit. She could see Carmy in the kitchen already sautéing something. She was headed towards him when he looked up, seeing her through the window and rushed to meet her in the front.

“Syd don’t-” he began before he was immobilized by the vision before him.

Sydney was similarly taken with him and marveled at how often they were of the same mind. Carm was wearing a crisp button-down blue shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the shirt tucked into dark navy pants, and he had gotten a haircut. Somehow it made his eyes stand out more. The sides were moderately tapered, his hair on top remained almost as long as before, and one of his rogue curls was damp against his forehead. He was perspiring, apparently having been cooking for a while.

“Nice haircut”, “You look amazing” they began at the same time and laughed nervously.

Carmy started again, beating his trusty spoon against his palm.

“So, the food is almost done. Just have a seat over there and I’ll be right out.”

Sydney nodded, a little confused and excited for this change of plans. She sat in the booth and noticed the speakers were playing The Teskey Brothers’ “Take My Heart.” She leaned back and closed her eyes letting the lyrics wash over her, her emotions stirring with that sweet ache.

“Take the time to notice what you really need, 

You’ll find it’s a little more simple, than what you thought before,

But I can say for certain that I’ve got more than I ever had before,

By remembering the little things that make my heart warm.

So take my heart and cut it into two,

After all the only thing missing from me was you,

You’re all I want, you’re all I need, you’re the air I breathe,

Cause after all the only thing missing from me was you.”

“Hey, are you good?” Carmy asked  approaching the booth with their plates.

Sydney sat up and cleared her throat.

“Yes, I’m good. I really like that song. Reminds me of-“

 “Otis Redding?”

“Yeah.”

Carm carefully placed the plates on the table.

“Well, speaking of throwbacks, I made-”

“Pork confit with onions and rhubarb!”

 “Yes, and after we’ll have Milk and Honey.

Sydney bit the inside of her mouth trying to absorb what seemed to be happening.  Carm muttered something about getting their drinks and went to the bar for their club sodas. Sydney remained mute, not knowing if she should ask him what this meant now or let it play out. “Don’t get ahead of yourself”, she admonished her heart.

He returned to the booth with their drinks and encouraged her to start, rubbing his chin as she put the first bite in her mouth.

“That’s it Carmy. Maybe even better than the first time,” Syd purred the pork melting on her tongue and some of her anxiety with it.

He blushed and began eating too.

“It is pretty good. Eleven Madison Park taught me a lot.”

The meal was mostly silent except for the occasional ejaculation over some element of the dish. Carmy couldn’t help gazing at Syd, taking in each detail, and rejoicing in the whole. The dip above her collar bone that rose and fell whenever she swallowed, made his head swim. Her lovely face was absolutely regal framed by her new box braids. Syd’s brown skin glowed in the candlelight and a heavenly citrus scent emanated from her. Whenever her eyes caught his obvious staring, he was too filled with gratitude to look away. Sydney’s eyes were soft and filled with kindness for this dear, lovestruck man. He looked helpless. In moments like this she remembered her capacity to build or obliterate him at will.  “Go with the flow” she reminded herself.

After they finished the main, Carmy took their plates and returned, with dessert, Milk and Honey. Syd lit up at the sight and when she tried it a wave of surprise flitted across her face.

"Is that mango? I didn't taste it at first, but then it like...bloomed at the back. Wow!"

"I thought it could use a Sydney twist. You always grab the mango lollipops off Sug's desk."

She resumed eating her dessert. Carm noticed everything about her. She'd played the Teskey Brothers, once or twice while they cleaned after a service, comparing them to Otis.

The Milk and Honey was devoured too soon and just as she wondered what else was on the agenda, Carmy took their bowls and returned with a package tied with twine. He set it in front of her, hands trembling, and sat a little further away than before. Syd perceiving his anxiety didn't raise any questions. She untied the string, removed the wrapping paper, revealing a red leather hand-bound notebook. The cover was engraved with her initials. On the first page was one of Carmy's drawings. It was a curbside view of The Bear. Several lined pages followed, then a drawing of the grapes in bone marrow broth. This alternating of lined pages and his pictures continued throughout the thick notebook. There were more pictures of their recipes, the various designs of her head scarves, and some were of her in different attitudes. In one she was leading expo with the confidence of Napoleon, and another was a portrait, her chin leaning on her hand, with a faraway expression in her large brown eyes. There were several others, so perceptive that Sydney felt naked. Adored. The final picture was surreal. It was a profile of Carmy's head the entirety of which was filled with Sydney wearing a hopeful smile and the scarf and shirt she'd worn her first day at The Beef.

She couldn't stop looking at it, her index finger tracing the lines.

"Sy-d" Carmen croaked his voice thick.

Breaking.

She looked up to find red-brimmed blue eyes searching hers.

"Come here" she breathed and no sooner than she blinked he was at her side.

"Syd" he tried again. Hyperventilating.

"Say more", she gently commanded smoothing his hair back before taking his hand in her lap.

This disarmed him, and he grinned in surprise. That was his line.

"Okay."

Breathe

"I want you Syd. I want to be with you.”

Breathe

“I want to do everything with you or not at all."

Then for the first time he wanted to say the words that had been a weapon for most of his life. They either were forced on him or yanked from him. His mother thought those words meant meekly submitting to her abuse. For Mikey it was cutting him off, so he wasn't exposed to his self-destruction. He never got to say it all. Claire believed it was part of a script. If he would only play his role and ignore who they were underneath, those words would become true enough.

Now, he had a new idea about those words, and they were wrapped up in this beautiful, talented, funny, tender, generous, stubborn, loyal, woman. His friend.

Suddenly they didn't hurt. He continued leaning to rest his forehead on hers.

"I love you."

Sydney blinked slowly as if in a trance, tears dropping to their joined hands.

Carm didn't move, but his face was filled with concern.

'Syd, are you-" he started to ask. Then he was spinning.

Sydney kissed him.

His neurons habitually used to process grief, anxiety, and small doses of happiness, trembled with the unusual amount of joy coursing through him.

Sydney was delirious. Her only thought was, he loves me.

Carmy couldn't close his eyes. The curve of her soft cheek so near his made him want to cry.

Then he did, for Sydney said,

"I love you, too."

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Hey, 🧀 anon here! Since you haven’t watched Made in Abyss, I’ll keep the request for another time >->

But, since the requests are closing soon (congrats on 100 followers btw), I came up with a different request: Can I please have some headcanons for Eula, Lumine and Jean with a reader that fights with a frying pan? They have formal training in sword fighting, but they use a frying pan cause they like to hear it go “bonk” when it hits things. (Can be romantic or platonic, up to you). Thx!✌🏽

(A pleasure to make your acquaintance 🧀 Anon! And I intend to watch made in the abyss one day so I’ll be sure to say when I do! Also, thanks! Still not sure what in the world I did to get 100 followers but I’ll ensure I don’t disappoint! Also, for some reason I decided to be sad for Jean's part, my apologies)

NOW THEN! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!

Warnings: Slight Angst for Jean's part

Lumine

Lumine was convinced you needed serious help the first time she saw you wander out of Mondstadt with a beat up frying pan that had a very long handle and a commission for a hilichurl encampment in hand.

Turns out, you did not need help, at least not with the Hilichurls.

Lumine still thinks that you need some serious mental help for fighting with only a frying pan and a pyro vision because “You like the funny sound” your pan makes when cracking someone’s head open like an egg.

And what makes it worse is that you know how to use a sword!

Hell! You're probably one of the best duelists in Mondstadt even with the frying pan! 

With an actual blade you’d probably be one of the best in Teyvat!

Lumine has seen you fight people like Jean and you nearly took her head off several times with that damn pan!

It was infuriating to her!

She has no Idea why it does either!

Well that's a lie, she knows exactly why it infuriates her but she won’t admit it.

Ever.

Or at least until she can prove that you need to use something else aside from a large frying pan.

Unfortunately people from all over have yet to force you on the back foot due to how unorthodox you and your pan is.

Catching the tips of spears and swords in the pan before redirecting them and using your new position to slam the side of the pan into their faces.

Blocking greatsword swings with the back of the pan before pushing the attacker off balance and countering.

Swiping away arrows and catalysts before hitting them with a storm of blows.

An almost perfect balance of offense and defense that was effective in duels and against handfuls of attackers and useful against hordes when paired with your Pyro vision.

She can count the amount of times she’s seen you use an actual sword on one hand minus four fingers.

And even then that was only when you were faced with a small army of ruin sentinels!

AND YOU STILL HAD THE PAN IN YOUR OTHER HAND!

So eventually Lumine had to admit that she would never find a way to stop you and your pan shenanigans.

But in doing so she had to admit something to herself she’d much rather not.

As she traveled with you, got to know you and tried to get you to pick up an actual weapon.

She had fallen for you and your antics.

The Traveler and her Pan Wielding compatriot with their mascot, Emergency Food!

It sounded like a bad circus act.

But she had to admit.

She liked the way it sounded in her head.

Eula Lawrence

Eula was someone who most people avoided interacting with or talking to.

Even still, she knew of you.

Hell, everyone knows of you.

Kind of hard to miss the adventurer who swings a pan around in place of a sword because of a love for the sound it makes when cracking open a skull.

That and no one understood why such a grand duelist never used a sword.

Yeah, most people tend to give you a wide berth.

Almost as wide as the one people gave Eula.

And considering you both ran in the same circles you two were bound to run into each other eventually.

When the two of you finally did run into each other, it was an interesting event.

Mostly because you killed a Lawlachurl by crushing its skull with your pan and laughing maniacally.

Eula knew then and there that you were the type of person who didn’t care about appearances or social faux pas.

It was something Eula thought more people needed.

And it was something that made Eula begin to take interest in you.

That and your propensity for violence with cooking utensils.

So the two of you began to get to know each other.

And in the process Eula realized something else about you.

You were exactly the type of person she liked.

And you were the person she had fallen for.

Jean Gunnhildr

You and Jean had known eachother since the both of you were young enough to run through the fields and streets of Mondstadt without care.

Long enough to develop a crush on you.

Despite your… love for swinging a Frying Pan over people’s heads.

Jean truly has no Idea what was going through your mind when you decided to have a Frying Pan as your weapon.

Especially since you were one of the best duelists she knew.

But considering the… personality quirks of everyone she knew…

You were by far one of the more normal people in her group of friends.

But Jean loathed to admit that, all because of that one word.

Friends.

That's all the both of you were to each other, no matter how much she wanted to change it.

What a cowardly woman she was.

But no longer, she was the one who was to be named the Acting Grandmaster once Grandmaster Varka left on his expedition.

That is when she will ask you.

When she’s backed by the strength and bravery of those who came before her.

Unfortunately, the world had decided against something like that happening just yet.

As you were one of the knights chosen to leave with Grandmaster Varka.

And Jean had no idea.

At least until she walked into your room, only to find it barren with a note addressed to her on the bed.

A note that told her that the both of you felt very much the same about one another.

A note that would be the last she heard of you for a very, very long while.

[iron-sunrise]

Need to secure another week in here and I'm like $300 short. Got until Friday to get that together

So like

Yeah it's an emergency. After that I MIGHT have a place? I really don't know and will definitely be applying to a few others as well. Fingers crossed tho.

Until then, gotta keep a roof over my head! And if you don't want to donate I have 32 slots open for colored alcohol marker style busts! Just DM me for info or get at me in discord (Kingsevil there, too)

$kingsevil

PayPal.me/himteckerjam

Ko-fi.com/Kingsevil

Any help or commission work is appreciated

[starlingdrawz]

Rockstar x fan au

(sorta)

Ohmygod I can't believe I never posted this,,,I made this back in December

Au/story idea (?)

Wakko is part of a small indie band who is slowly gaining popularity and is now at a point where they are doing a mini tour

Dewey is a huge fan and had bought a ticket and a plus one

He was originally supposed to go with Webby but she went with Scrooge and the others on a last minute adventure

Dewey asked all of his friend, even LP and DW if they could but they were all busy.

Eventually he asked Louie, who had stayed behind but of course he said no. But since everyone else has said no, he thought he'd give it another chance and asked Louie once again

Louie complained and whined, claiming he wanted a lazy day that was void of adventure and excitement

Yet he was somehow convinced to tag along

He didn't know what band it was nor did he really care. All he knew was that his older brother was OBSESSED with them and had not shut up about them for the past week. Dewey on several occasions, had tried to get him to listen to their songs but Louie simply didn't want to know anything about them. Not to mention his eagerness kind of drove him away from being interested. (Annoying siblings amiright?)

They get to the venue and there's a pretty decent crowd. Louie is not too pleased, he was hoping it'd be a small event but it's whatever, too late for him to back out now.

First thing Louie notices when the band walks on stage is "Damn that guy's cute" (Wakko) and Dewey laughs and agrees with him and is getting increasingly excited, having a good feeling Louie will enjoy the show.

And Dewey was right. Louie enjoyed himself a LOT more than he expected to. He couldn't keep his eyes off of "The cute guy"

Louie wasn't expecting to hear such a *lovely* voice to come from him and for him to be so talented at both the guitar AND drums.

He was blown away to say the least

After the show the two decided to stay back so they could have a chance to meet the band. And what do you know! It's their lucky day! They were able to meet them and talked to Wakko.

Dewey gushed to him, telling him that he was his biggest fan and that he was so happy that they were gaining traction.

Louie tried to be more lowkey and admitted that he's never heard them until that night but is also looking forward to what they do in the future.

The three of them talk but Wakko and Louie end up talking the most. Unfortunately they could only hang around for so long until it was late but Louie ended up getting Wakko's contact info.

The two message each other throughout the night and become friends pretty quickly. Wakko offers to give him and Dewey extra tickets for their future shows and Louie happily accepts

Dewey is jealous at first since he was the one who wanted to have a close relationship with him but eventually gets over it since he gets to go to their other shows .

The two take pictures together when they watch the band and post them online.

People assume that their uncle (Scrooge) bought them tickets until Louie posts a picture of him and Wakko together

The fans go crazy and start spreading a rumor that the two are dating.

At first they laughed it off but uh oh hehe gay feeling emerge

One thing led to another and they finally confess and make it official

Blah blah blah happy ending yeah idk how to end this

Commissions

[stobinesque]

@steddie-week day 3: first kiss | 2.1k words | G or T

Steve and Robin were about halfway through a rewatch of Clue when the phone rang, and Steve was across the living room before it was halfway through its second ring. “What’s wrong?” He asked without preamble. His heart was already racing; too anxious to consider the possibility that it could be someone calling for his parents—or even that it might be a non-emergency call. It was past ten already, and most of The Party should have at least been pretending to sleep by then.

“Steve?” The voice on the other end of the line was a bit distant—drowned out by the staticky sound of rain hitting pavement.

“Eddie? Are you alright? Where are you? Did something happen?”

Eddies’ van was out of commission, so he’d been relying on rides from Steve and the rest of the Corroded Coffin crew to get him to and from places for the past few weeks. If he was out somewhere and in trouble, he was stranded there.

“Yeah—I-I mean, no. Nothing—nothing happened. Just—could you come get me?”

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?”

“I’m out at The Hideout.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in ten—maybe fifteen minutes.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I said I’d be there in ten, Eddie.”

“Okay.” 

Steve hung up the receiver and turned to make for the foyer to find Robin standing behind him—jacket on, back slung over one shoulder, and a pair of his shoes in one hand. “Picking Eddie up?”

“Yeah.” Steve took the shoes from her hands gratefully, and started pulling them on.

“Can you drop me off on the way without slowing yourself down?”

“Yeah, I budgeted Robin home-delivery time just in case.”

“Well, hop to it then, dingus.”

~*~*~*~

When Steve pulled up in front of The Hideout after dropping off a surprisingly acquiescent Robin (Eddie needs you more than I do right now, dingus), it was to find Eddie sitting atop one of the wheel stops of The Hideout’s small lot, looking like a drowned rat. 

Eddie was up and yanking open the door to the beamer before Steve could so much as put it in park, and Steve pulled out of the lot as soon as Eddie had his seat belt buckled across him.

“You okay, mann?”

Eddie shrugged.

“What happened?”

“Don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”

Steve nodded. “Okay.”

“Sorry to interrupt movie night with the missus.”

Steve laughed. “She already forgives you. Provided that you were actually having a crisis and not just faking one as a ploy to get me alone with you.”

That startled a laugh out of Eddie in turn, and he turned in his seat to shoot Steve a mischievous grin. “Now, does that sound like something I would do, sweetheart?”

“According to Robin? Yes.”

“Ah, I see who the brains of the operation is, then.”

“Was that in question?”

“Well—whether or not there was a brain behind you and Robin’s whole deal was a little up in the air.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Silence fell between the two of them, and twenty seconds in Eddie started rooting around in Steve’s glove compartment.

“Dude. What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for a tape in here that doesn’t suck, man!”

“What are you talking about? We have, like, half the same taste in music!”

“Yeah, but the only thing you keep in your car are mixtapes! And I’m sorry, Steve, but some of the things the kids have made you are—objectively speaking—extremely cursed.”

“You could put in the one Robin made.”

“It’s hilarious that you think there’s only one Robin mixtape in here. But also: I’m not in the mood for Cyndi Lauper.”

“Cyndi Lauper’s not in the mood for you,” Steve snarked under his breath—more because he knew that’s what Robin would say if she was in the car with them than for any other reason. Raising his voice so that Eddie knew it was meant to be heard, he added, “I think there might be one from Jon in there?”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “Eugh. No thanks. My night’ been shit enough.” He kept rooting around for another minute or two, until— “Aha!” he emerged triumphant, an sparsely labeled tape held aloft in one hand. It looked like one that Steve had made for himself years ago—long before he’d gone knocking on the supernatural’s door. If he was guessing right, it was a mix of Queen, Bowie, and Fleetwood Mac. “How have I never found this one before?” Eddie asked.

“Because in spite of your loud protestations to the contrary, you usually just let whatever music is playing in the car happen to you.”

Eddie gave a considering hum as he stuffed his find into the tape deck. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

The two of them fell silent again as “The Chain” poured from the speakers, and the rest of the ride passed without conversation, the only sounds between them besides the music was the steady beat of rain against the windshield, and Eddie’s fingers drumming along to the beat of the song.

~*~*~*~

Steve killed the engine as he pulled up in front of the Munsons’ trailer. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said, pulling a strand of hair out to cover his mouth as he did so.

“Yeah—any time, dude.”

Eddie made to get out of the car, but froze in place as he leaned half-in, and half-out. “Could you—wanna come in?” There was a put-upon air of casualness to his tone in a way that made Steve suspect that he was being asked to stay the night. He wasn’t sure why Eddie felt so shy about the request, though—it wasn’t like this would be the first time.

“Oh. Yeah, man. Of course.” All he ever wanted was to be helpful. So Steve took his keys from the ignition, and trailed after Eddie as he led them both inside.

Eddie started peeling out of his soaked clothes before the front door had finished closing behind them, and made a beeline for his bedroom so he could pull on a pair of boxers and a bleach-stained t-shirt, before flopping down onto his bed. Steve followed after him, toeing his shoes off inside the door, and crawling into bed beside Eddie once he was finished changing.

"Wanna talk about it now?" he asked, as Eddie tucked himself up against his side.

Eddie shrugged. He took one of Steve's hands into both of his own and started idly playing with his fingers. "Bad date."

"Oh yeah? People aren't going mad over a metalhead who was only recently cleared of all murder charges?"

Eddie shoved at him. "Low blow, Harrington."

Steve stole his hand back to hold both of them up in surrender. "Sorry, man."

Eddie yanked Steve's hand back and held it covetously in both of his own, and Steve reached down with his own free one to tangle it into Eddie's wild mane of curls, which were still damp from the rain. "Whatever, dude. It wasn't that. He just…he was just kind of an asshole.” Eddie shrugged again, sounding a little resigned. “The regular kind."

Steve was silent, but ruffled his hand through Eddie's hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. 

"I just…I don't know. I don't know why I even bother trying to go out on dates at this point.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's like…I don't know. Just feels like I'm chasing after something I'm never gonna find."

"I get that," Steve said, tone soft and understanding.

"Really? Figured you'd have people falling all over you."

Steve snorted. "I don't think I've gone on a date since I went to the championship game with Heidi back in March."

Eddie jerked a little in Steve’s grip. "Why not?" He sounded…genuinely very confused.

Steve shrugged. "I don't know, I just…haven’t really felt like it. Honestly, I’d already felt like I was circling the drain back at that point.”

“...Huh.”

They both went quiet, Steve still running one hand through Eddie’s hair, and Eddie still tangled his fingers through those of Steve’s other hand. 

“So, how do you…?” Steve trailed off with a frown, unsure of how or whether he should finish his question.

“How do I…?”

“How do you, y’know, find guys? To go out with? Who you aren’t scared of knocking your lights out, that is.”

Eddie shifted in Steve’s arms to get a better look at him. “Wait, wait. Have you not been on a date with another guy yet, Harrington?”

“No…?”

“Then how did you—?”

“How did I, what?” Steve felt a little on edge; a little on the defensive. Like there was some unseen standard he wasn’t living up to.

“How’d you figure out you were into them, then?” Eddie sounded a little bewildered. A lot incredulous. “Figured you were the victim of a drunken make-out discovery or something.”

Steve laughed, because that did sound like him, but— “Nope. Never been kissed.” He tilted his head toward Eddie with a little smirk. “By a guy, that is.”

Eddie propped himself up on one arm and stared at Steve like he was a puzzle to be solved, and there was a glint in his eye that made the hair along the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. “D’you wanna be?”

Steve’s heart skipped a bit, and his hand stilled in Eddie’s hair. “Uh…what do you mean?”

“Do you wanna be kissed? By a guy?”

Steve laughed, feeling awkward. “Are you offering?”

Eddie shrugged, just a touch too casual. “Sure, why not?”

“I don’t know. Wouldn't it be weird?”

“Doesn’t have to be weird if you don’t make it weird, man.”

Steve turned that over. It’s not like he and Eddie didn’t already spend most of the time they spent alone together tangled up in one another. There was a quasi-romantic edge to their friendship that Steve wasn’t really used to—well. Except for with Robin. But that was different, for obvious reasons. And, granted, the dynamic between him and Tommy had been…intense, but it still hadn’t felt like this. 

Regardless—kissing Eddie wouldn’t change anything about their friendship if they didn’t want it to. “I guess you’re right.”

Eddie half-turned in Steve’s arms. “Yeah?”

Steve repositioned himself so that they were facing each other, hitching one shoulder up in a nonchalant little shrug. “Sure, why not?” he parroted back.

Eddie smiled, and it made his whole face go soft and gentle in a way that had Steve’s stomach twisting up in knots. Oh, he’s beautiful.

Eddie reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear, and then let his hand drift along the line of Steve’s jaw until he was gently gripping his chin between two fingers. Steve’s lips parted in anticipation, and the two of them breathed into the silent space they’d created between them. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and his arms breaking out in goosebumps.

It didn’t make any sense though. It wasn’t like it was his real first kiss. And he’d known he was attracted to men for ages, even if he’d never acted on it. It wasn’t even exactly news to him that he found Eddie attractive. But…none of their interactions had been this charged before.

Eddie closed the space between them, and pressed a gentle, but firm kiss to Steve’s lips, grinding the trajectory of Steve’s thoughts to a halt. It was a simple kiss. And it could have remained like that—soft, sweet, and almost chaste—except that Steve couldn’t hold back a sharp gasp in response, as his breath hitched in his throat. 

He should pull back. He knew he should pull back—but he’d always been greedy, and Eddie was making no move to put any distance between the two of them either. So Steve surged forward, capturing Eddie’s lips into a more passionate kiss, and savoring the small whine it elicited. Eddie gave as good as he got, winding an arm around Steve’s waist, and slotting a thigh between both of Steve’s legs with a force that startled a little “Mmpf!” from him. 

All in all, the kiss probably lasted little more than a few moments. But for all Steve knew, whole civilizations could have risen and fallen in that soft, gray space of time he and Eddie had their lips pressed together. 

He wasn’t sure who finally broke away, but once they did, both of their breaths came short and heavy.

“That was…really good?” Steve said, a high-pitched note of giddiness and wonder in his tone. 

Eddie smiled with cheshire-style grin, eyelids heavy and low. “Yeah? Wanna make it even better?”

Steve smiled right back. “I think I might.”

[birth-stories]

Request uploaded from ask box

Commissions open, requests closed

Word count: 800

Being a doctor was something Callie wanted to do since she was a young child. After years of college and hard work, she had been promoted to the main emergency doctor in her local hospital. For the most part, the days were slow- only getting in random patients with the flu or an injury that didn’t take long to treat

But today was an entirely different day, she had been working non stop since she entered her shift at 6 am. It was now 12 pm and she was working on a patient.

Even at 37 weeks pregnant, she had still insisted on working- she hated sitting still and was determined to work up to the time until she had her baby. She knew it was something she could do, or at least she thought.

When she had came into work, she was feeling mild cramps and back pains, but she had continually brushed them off as false labor pains considering they were so light and inconsistent.

But as the morning dragged on, the pains seemed to be getting worse and worse. At first she could ignore them, trying to focus on her breathing in between tending to patients.

“Andrew!” She called to her attending that was standing at the nurses station, “yeah?” He called back- watching as she stood slowly.

Everyone was concerned about her, her belly was sitting low- below her pelvis it seemed like.

“Can you take care of this patient? I have to use the bag room-“ she chuckled weakly, already taking off her gloves and tossing them into the trash.

“Oh yeah sure-“ he nodded, watching as she walked off. Though it was more of an awkward heavy waddle.

As she had left the emergency room, she had let out a breath she had been holding. The contractions were right on top of each other, the baby’s head engaged low into her pelvis.

She had been laboring for longer then she had originally let on, her waters having broken about 3 hours around 9 am.

But she had just excused it as an rough kick to her bladder. Surprisingly enough- her con workers had agreed.

But this baby seemed to be wanting to come as quickly as possible. She could feel her lips bulging in her soaked panties.

Leaning against the wall for a moment, just a few feet from the bathroom- another very strong contraction came over her.

Gritting her teeth, her eyes were squeezed shut. The intense urge to bare down into her chest had came over her.

As the contraction let up, she had quickly pulled herself from the wall she hurriedly waddled to the bathroom. She was thankful that the bathroom was single stall, hurriedly stepping into the dimly lit room- she had shut and locked the door.

She couldn’t even reach the toilet, she was stuck squatting against the sink. Gripping onto it for dear life.

Grunting, she had a brief moment as the contractions let up, hurriedly pulling down her scrubs, though she didn’t have time to take them off fully.

As the next contraction began, the scrubs and soaked panties down to just her knees, she had to push.

“Ooh- wish you could’ve waited a bit longer-“ she whined out, chin tucked to her chest. Her usual neat hair was coming out of the bun, sticking to her flushed face with sweat.

Despite the dire urge to push, the baby was slow moving in her tight hips. Her lips still bulging out, quivering against the strain.

Head pressed against the sink, she had taken a moment to catch her breath. Beginning to push again, she had bit down on her lip to stifle a moan. The head finally making away, barely peaking out from her parted lips. Though as soon as she let up on her push, the head had slipped back in.

Grunting out in frustration, she had pulled herself up into a standing postion, scrubs and ankles now falling to her ankles.

Still leaning up against the sink, grip still tight- she had pushed again. The head pushing against her parted lips once more. This time she had held the push a bit longer, finally getting just a small patch of the head of a form against her redden lips.

“Ooh-“ she whined out, hurriedly reaching a hand down to begin stretching herself slowly around the head that was struggling to crown.

Letting out a few quick breathes, she tried to let it stretch naturally. Finally giving a push as it came into a wide crown. She could feel the ring of fire around her over taxed pussy.

“Oh god-“ she cried out weakly, tears stinging her eyes as she tried to focus on breathing rather then pushing so she wouldn’t tear.

A sudden squeal left her lips as the head popped out with no warning followed by a spray of fluids.

This had caused her knees to give out, now awkwardly kneeling on the bathroom floor, holding the massive head in her hands.

Chest heaving with breathes, she buried her chin into her chest once more. The body had turned and the shoulders had quickly slipped out and the baby was into her arms.

She had quickly brought the squalling baby up to her chest, still breathing heavily as she leaned back into the wall

[susagnon]

Saying their goodbyes: Shouto, Katsuki

Shouto

Nee-san spoke first, “Please be careful, Shouto. I... I’m so sorry for being such a useless older sister. I wish, I cou-"

"I will. And you're not useless." That felt insufficient. Shouto tried moving his hand over his sister's head, like he had seen Asui doing with some of their classmates when they got upset. "Please teach me how to make soba properly, when I get back."

At this, Fuyumi's eyes turned watery.

Shouto faltered. Then he froze.

Natsu-nii had pulled him into a hug.

Perhaps not wanting their sister and mother to hear, Natsu-nii said into his ear: “Punch him in the face. Pummel his ass." And with an even lower voice, his brother whispered: "And if there's any possibility… please drag him home.”

Shouto flailed. Then he remembered what he did, when okaa-san had asked for his permission to hug him during one of his first visits, and put his hands lightly on Natsu-nii's back. For few seconds, his fingers gripped his older brother's sweater tightly.

Shouto turned to their mother. She had lagged behind his siblings slightly.

He knew that the loss of Touya-nii back then, had completely shattered whatever small parts of their mother had been left, that hadn't already been broken by their father. But Touya-nii had killed so many people. And his flames were so strong, surpassing those of Endeavor's.

Shouto didn't know what to say to his mother. But he had to say something, so he settled on, "Okaa-san, I won’t let our family hurt any more people. I promise.”

“I know. I’m sor…” His mother stopped. Instead, she reached out to wrap his left hand between her own smaller ones. “Thank you, Shouto. I’m grateful for having you.”

Shouto swallowed hard. His hand stayed in between his mother's palms, until the heroes were signaled to move out.

Katsuki

“You will win.”

“What do you take me for?! Of course I will!”

For that, the hag decked him over the head.

Katsuki was about to let his mother know, that she hit like a ninety-year old. But before he could, his old man caught his gaze. Something in his father's eyes made Katsuki close his mouth again.

With her hands on her hips and her chin tilted up, his mother said: “Absolute victory. That's what you've always spouted. And absolute victory requires making it back. Preferably, in one piece. Although I don't expect that - no, I'm not underestimating you. But I'm also not an idiot. And neither are you."

At this, Katsuki averted his eyes. The hero students involvement in the PLW was still kept secret from the public. Aside from Icyhot, none of the students who got hospitalized had been allowed visits from their families.

Katsuki knew from his old man, that his mother had stood in front of the hospital every single day, until they learned that their son had been released and escorted back to his dorm.

During phone calls, he had tried to downplay his injuries. It wasn't because he agreed with the Commission's dumbass decisions.

It had been futile anyways. Katsuki saw from the expression of his mother's face, when she first laid eyes on him after UA's emergency shelters went into effect, that she had guessed the severity of his injuries right away.

His mother combed her hand slowly through his hair. Katsuki fought against the urge to tilt his head towards her.

"So. I expect an absolute victory, where as much of you makes it back as needed... to take the decking that you’ll get for being disrespectful to your mother. Got it?”

“…yeah, yeah. Just watch me.”

The hag gave his hair a slight pull.

And so, Katsuki's schoolmates, teachers, and anyone else in their vincity, got subjected to an encore of the Bakugou-screamo-musical, until it was time for the son to leave.

[gorepill]

Oh yeah baby its that tim of month again!!!

Commission swag!!! It's not an emergency or anything, we're not *out out* of food, but it's still gonna be a struggle until the 3rd of next month! SO

If you're inch-rested, drop on by my ko-fi, and brose my art tag #artpilled on this epic tumblr blog here if u want some more examples of my art! ^-^ Yippee and yay!!!