#he's nonverbal

[divine-draws]

more tommy from my ghoap family au :3c he's having fun with his ipad

[mysterytra1n]

he's the patron saint of autism

[ask-the-celestial-family]

little bloodbag, the real Clipsey is hidden somewhere inside that meany. You just need to wake him up. Maybe tell him how much you love the real Clipsey and want him back? Or try to give him Vega?

*whimpers and sniffles* -Blood Moon🌹

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[chrliekclly]

more meme dialogue doodles cuz they were fun, wanted to get back to my bb charmac roots w these ones

[faerynova]

im very firmly on the "raph has did/osdd" train and i just think having a little in the system has a lot of comedy potential

like so:

[dealwithadeer]

I love this picture because you can really see what both Husk and Alastor imagine as they sing this.

Husk is looking up at the sky with a genuine smile on his face, dreaming about freedom, his friends, the possibility of redemption and in this moment he can actually see himself taking off and leaving Hell (and Alastor) behind.

Alastor meanwhile is also dreaming of freedom but when he looks up he is not seeing the possibility of redemption but himself on a throne with everyone tied to his strings. He does not dream of leaving Hell, he dreams of ruling it.

The difference between Husk dreaming of saying goodbye to Alastor, and breaking off his chains while Alastor has a dream that probably involves Husk eternally chained to his side is just fascinatingly messed-up.

[eddiesghxst]

Your most recent blurb got me thinking

When i get fucked out i start repeating everything the other person says, imagine eddie realizing this and getting you to say anything he wanted "whos a slut?/youre a slut" "im a slut" kinda thing 🤤🤤

oh fuck he’d 100% take advantage of that

he makes you say the nastiest things, hums when he presses his dick all the way into you and watches as you quiver beneath him, “look at you, baby. all open and wet for me. you’re my pretty slut, aren’t you?”

you shakily breathe around a moan, bleary eyes blinking up at him as you whimper, “your pretty slut… yours, yours, yours…”

“that’s right, honey. gonna give you my cum and you’re gonna take it all like a good girl, okay? y’gonna be my good girl?”

“good girl, yes. yes please, wannabeyourgirl,”

eddie snickers when your words slur and he leans forward, smearing his wet lips onto yours as he coos, “you are baby. you are my girl. always gonna be my girl. don’t fuckin’ forget it.”

[primal-con]

Wanted to draw robots again so I’m going back to my roots

[flowercrowngods]

some hurt/comfort cuddles for @t-boyeddie. because you deserve nice things and cuddles

🤍 also on ao3

Steve feels endlessly pathetic pulling up to the Munson trailer with a hammering heart at two in the morning, feeling like he has nowhere else in the world to go. It’s a lie. He knows it’s not true, knows that his brain is lying to him, knows that his thoughts got all tangled up and messy somewhere between noon and midday, knows that all he has to do is breathe through it and just get this day over with.

But he can’t breathe. And he can’t sleep. And he—

He needs a hug. He needs Eddie and his stupid, sweet, lovely koala hugs with his goddamn hair all up in Steve’s face. He needs it so badly that he can’t wait until tomorrow — and now here he is, pulling up to the trailer.

He gasps a little in the silence of the car when he spots a familiar figure sitting on the front steps, a blanket around his shoulders and a cigarette in his hand. Tears spring to his eyes — pathetic little tears that he refuses to allow right now, so he blinks them away. But the longer he looks at Eddie sitting right there, looking up at the approaching car with a smile that’s slowly growing, the more he feels ready to fall apart. And he will, if he’s not held together.

And Eddie is so good at holding him together. Steve needs him close; can’t wait even a second longer.

Steve cuts the engine and is out of the car in one swift move, walking over to wonderful, beautiful Eddie who is gloriously, miraculously awake.

His quick steps on the gravel match the loud, rapid beating of his heart, and then Eddie is getting up, closing the distance between them just as fast, until they’re crashing together in a tangle of arms and a gentle hand on the back of his head that’s pulling him close, close, closer.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie breathes into his cheek, his temple, his hair, and Steve wants to melt into him. Wants to cry now that the world smells like Eddie again, feels like Eddie again; now that the world is Eddie again. “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head where it’s still hidden in the crook of Eddie’s neck, his hands clenching in the soft, worn shirt he’s wearing to sleep. He wants to say, No, not really. Wants to say, It’s stupid. I was just lonely for a little too long. Missed you. Missed you, missed you, missed you.

But he can’t say anything. The words get lodged in his throat and the thought of speaking makes the world feel so overwhelming again, makes him feel like a failure and a fuck-up and all those things his mind tells him that he is on nights like this.

Things that he knows he isn’t. He knows! But knowledge doesn’t protect him on nights like this.

What protects him is the way Eddie sways them gently this way and that, silent in his own right — humming slightly to give Steve something to focus on. It makes his eyes sting again, so he burrow’s further into his love’s neck.

“I’ve got you. Was waiting for you, you know? Had a feeling. Just a feeling, Stevie. So glad you came.”

It’s good. It’s good he’s here. Eddie is glad. Eddie doesn’t judge him or hate him or think he’s too much, think he’s pathetic, think he should talk and explain and be as strong as they both know he can be.

Steve takes a deep breath, inhaling Eddie’s scent, his shampoo, his aftershave, the cigarette smoke and the laundry detergent. It settles him, and he can practically feel his frayed mind smoothing out, can feel his racing heart slow down, can feel his hands unclench from Eddie’s shirt as he breathes like he couldn’t all day and all night.

Once he’s calm enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s about to snap and break and crumble any second now, he slowly lifts his face and meets Eddie’s eyes. Even in the dark, illuminated only by the street lights and scarcely lit porch lamps, he looks so kind. So patient. So genuine.

So, so lovely.

“Hi,” he breathes, carding a hand through Steve’s hair, and Steve feels like a fragile little thing again — but gentler this time, because he knows Eddie is holding him. Because he knows Eddie won’t let go.

“Hi,” he croaks, wanting to try again with the words. It doesn’t feel good, doesn’t feel right. Maybe tonight isn’t for talking then.

“Do you wanna come inside? Stay the night with me? I’d hate to let you go now that I have you, Stevie. How’s that sound?”

He nods before Eddie even finished the first question, watching the smile unfold on his face until it’s full and wide, his hand not stopping its motions through Steve’s hair.

“Come on in, then, beautiful.”

Eddie leads him by the hand, leads him inside, entirely unwilling to let Steve go. He guides him through the dark trailer that Steve knows so well by now and doesn’t let go of his hand even as he makes him sit on the bed.

Steve looks up at him as Eddie steps between his legs and holds him close again, knowing that Steve loves this position. He can hear Eddie’s heart beating like this, can wrap his arms around him completely and just hold on forever and ever as Eddie plays with his hair.

“You’re pretty,” Eddie murmurs then. “And smart. And kind. And I’m incredibly lucky to have you here with me, Stevie. Do you know that?”

He does. It’s not why he’s here. It’s not why he can’t talk tonight. He just… He just needs Eddie.

So he doesn’t react, which is a language they have made for nights like this, and instead holds on even tighter around Eddie’s middle and leans back, falling onto his back on the bed and pulling a laughing Eddie with him, who gets the memo instantly and wraps his entire body around Steve.

The grounding weight of Eddie on top of him is what makes a few of the silent tears fall, because he gets to have this now. Because it’s okay. It’s good. Eddie loves him. He’s not a fuck-up.

Eddie brushes a kiss to his forehead, his nose, his cheek, and holds him. Tells him good things in a soothing tone sometimes that go right over Steve’s head because he’s busy losing himself in the steady beat of Eddie’s heart, the rise and fall of his chest that he’s now resting his cheek on, with Eddie’s arms around his shoulders. He’s focused on the vibrations of his voice that carry through his whole body and right into Steve’s. It’s a magical feeling that he wants to chase, so he trails his fingers down from Eddie’s adam’s apple to the middle of his chest, and up again, every time he talks. It makes Eddie laugh, makes him shiver, makes him brush more kisses to Steve’s forehead.

Quiet cuddles in the dark of Eddie’s room allow Steve to breathe again even as he buries his nose in Eddie’s neck, almost smothering himself just to make him laugh again, call him ridiculous, and tell him, “I love you.”

Steve smiles until he falls asleep still half on top of Eddie, who promises not to let him go. And he doesn’t. He won’t.

[lilnasxvevo]

I love you Monkey D. Luffy I love you protecting the power of friendship through the power of incredible violence

[beaulesbian]

One Piece 1.01 || 1.07

[astrafortune]

It’s almost Animaniacs day, baby warners it is

[jheselbraum]

"Zelda loves Link and is stressing about it because surely Link, hero of Hyrule, her favored knight, appointed for her protection, and her closest companion and confidante, doesn't actually harbor romantic feelings for her. Meanwhile, Link is running around in the background devoting 110% of his being to her and would do anything for her and has actually already confessed, like, five times Zelda just didn't pick up on it because she was overthinking it" and "Link loves Zelda and is stressing about it because surely Zelda, Sage of Time, princess of Hyrule, who must marry royal blood, who lives with Link in his fucking house, who has 10,000 years worth of faith and trust in him, who even as a dragon after she lost her self protected Link, his closest companion and confidante, doesn't actually harbor romantic feelings for him. Meanwhile, Zelda is running around in the background toppling the monarchy and reforging the societal fabric of Hyrule so they can be together. She's also confessed like, five times but Link hasn't picked up on it because he's overthinking it" are two concepts that can coexist

[vero-niche]

they balance each other out <3

[moonshynecybin]

every time vale gets asked a question about marc he follows this formula

one sentence that is very neutral about marc + change the subject and talk about one of the academy riders

the exceptions to this doctrine are his dramatic shakespearean betrayal monologues where he says INSANE gay shit like “he had to kill the idea of me” with his CHEST. like truly that milquetoast stuff is what he’ll say to REPORTERS, you get that mf on a podcast and suddenly he’s charles dickens level verbose. getting paid in words a minute. slanders per second. deranged delusions per hour.

me when i am so sososo so divorced. most divorced man maybe ever