#pls contact me

[yllwcrtns]

I know you’re gonna hate me for saying this but, uh, I am worried about you.

[39raccoons]

i made frieren! she’s silly

[jaradraws]

playing bg3 and uhmmm. zevlor

❗NOTICE: this user has NOT completed the game. do NOT spoil this for them ❗

[yesttoheaven]

I'm always on tinder, but I never find an old man like him :(

[kan-be]

bunch of very old and not so comms I never posted for some reason but still like 😇 the more recent ones were made for @raven6229 and @frog-frussy !!! the owners of the old ones are lost in IG im afraid......

[hermit-frog]

could you imagine the chaos if Dan’s dream went like this 😂

[thefrsers]

The thing about Tom is....he wants ye...badly. But he doesna ken a thing about ye. And you do? I've want and need aplenty, but I've never kissed you without caring who you are.

[ent-is-indecisive]

id : a digital painting mimicking a polaroid of the members of corroded coffins packed close together and doing the metal hand sign./end id

oct 3 : reputation/school/combative for @eddiemonth

realising i have no notion of time passing and will probably not get very far in this month of challenge. but also i want to show off the many cool eddie relationships with other characters

[javierpena-inatacvest]

what if I told you.... that i just finished writing 5k of the FILTHIEST smut I've ever written of Javi fucking you in his tac vest.... and that it'll hopefully be posted by tonight... WHAT THEN HMMMMM?!?! WHAT THEN!?!? 💀

[chvoswxtch]

i’ve been on a sabrina carpenter kick this past week and i’ve decided it’s cannon that foggy is a sabrina stan and sings nonsense around the office all the time and matt hates it bc goddamn that song is catchy and he finds himself perched on a rooftop like a fucking gargoyle at 2am and he’s singing it to himself bc he can hear foggy belting it 3 blocks away

also foggy definitely blasted feather every single night during s3 after finding out that backstabbing little bitch was alive

[quirkle2]

it's goofball o'clock

[themunsonmurders]

Wayne looks at Eddie and sees alot of himself.

He sees the snarky attitude. The sarcasm. The anger, the resentment. Sees the slight crookedness to his nose from a school fight years ago, crooked just like his from when he fought back in a drunken rage against his own father. He sees the smile and crinkle of his eyes and has to stop himself from pulling out the photos of him when he was younger, when he and his brother were in school, where he would smile wide for picture day, eye-smiles wide enough to block his vision.

He sees it all, and thinks, that's my boy. No one knows him like I do. No one knows just how fucking important he is. But by god, he will try to make them see. Would hold his hand when walking him into school, chat to his teachers, and say 'He really likes reading', and list all the books he had on the coffee table Eddie would scrounge through (a total of five, if they didn't count the magazines, newspaper, and pamphlets).

He'd twirl him around in the air out in the park when he was still in his single digits and not yet living with Wayne fulltime. Would throw him up and help him fly like he asked, would zoom him around the manmade construct and listen to the story his boy would tell, hanging on every word.

He sees alot of himself in Eddie, but he's surprised when he sees a bit more.

It all starts when he comes home from his shift, which have been shortened and his pay raised in apology for witch-hunting his nephew just months before.

He gets to their new little home, a two bedroom bungalow with enough space in all the rooms to have a family Christmas dinner, and sees a shiny BMW in the driveway. It's familiar. He knows who's home.

He walks inside, kicks off his boots, and when he turns to grab a drink from the kitchen, he sees it.

Eddie and Steve rolling out dough, cookie cutters strewn over their kitchen island.

There's flour over their cheeks, just a slight dusting, but it's all so sweet and domestic that he needs a moment.

He sees it all, and just like he does all the time with Eddie, sees himself.

Sees himself and someone he thought he was over long ago.

But here he is, just outside his kitchen, watching his boy and his friend make biscuits, laughing and throwing rolled balls of dough at eachother, and it reminds him of when it had all changed for him.

Reminds him of tough, but gentle, hands. Reminds him of deep blue eyes and blonde locks. Reminds him of whispered promises and hugs that lasted a second too long.

He sees his boy and his friend making biscuits in the kitchen, and Wayne knows.

He sees it.

Eddie and him, they are so alike.

Because his boy has the same look in his eye that he did himself when he left his family, left his brother and his father, and held tightly onto a pair of hands that carried his heart.

He looks at Eddie who looks at Steve with such compassion, so carefree as the sun's light streams though the windows, dough under his fingernails, and he sees himself.

"You better pick all that up," They turn to him, shock on their faces, a wide eyed look on the Harrington boy, and he nods his head. "Don't want dough all over this new kitchen, boys," Is all he says before forgoing his drink, and marching upstairs to his room.

He finds the old shoebox of photographs, picks a few out, and looks. Memorises them, burns them into memory.

The first one is of him and a man he once knew, an arm over his shoulders as they look at one another. He looks at the soul he once knew and sighs. Those eyes, he thinks, those eyes sparkled with life. He looks at himself and blinks. So much alike, him and Eddie.

The second one is blurry, hazy. A picture taken quickly and unsteady, fingers fumbling with the object and unsure of what to press.

It's of his lips on the man's cheek, and he can see the smile that once rocketed his heart into space, beating a million miles a minute.

The third one is simple. Two men stand at a welcome sign, each having an arm strewn over the other. They smile into the camera.

It's of him and someone he knew. Someone who knew him.

He tucks the second photo in his pocket, puts the others back in the shoebox and puts it back into safekeeping.

Eddie and him are alot alike.

He knows that.

And later tonight, when it's just them, he'll show the photo and let Eddie know just how alike they are.

He'll let Eddie know, and will tell him how proud of him he is. How safe he is.

They are both alike, in so many ways.

He thinks of the camera he has hidden away, and wonders if Eddie would like photographing his own sun, too.

[raiansun]

“Don’t worry though neighbor, it’ll be a little joke between you...and me.”

Alternate versions + Blood version under the cut ! Beware ! TW !!!

[xamaxenta]

If Ace doesnt get a super sexy bar fight just like Zoro did in OPLA then what is the point

[purple-ravaged]

who is that in the mirror? is it you? or me?

[tvrningout]

y’all already know this by now, but this is an official post to say i’m on semi-hiatus/hiatus for the time being. i might decide on an official day to come back later to help get me back into the spirit of being here, or i may pop in occasionally if i’m bitten by the writing bug; regardless, i just need a good, zero-pressure break to rest and handle the internal and external issues happening in my life. i could ramble about it, but i won’t this time :’ )

all that said, you can message me on discord at ‘ waitforspring. ’ and that’s with the period! i still wanna keep in contact, and i might even feel up to writing a few, little things on discord, too. just keep in mind that i may be slow to respond at times — i’m known to be a snail, and i don’t think that’ll ever change asdfg

i miss y’all, and i want you to know that whether it’s a day or a month or a year, you deserve to rest. you deserve to take time for yourself. you deserve to focus on different parts of your life, and you deserve to use your time how you want. remember that, and please take care of yourselves, friends 💜