Saw this on TikTok
i don't do bad sauce passes
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
No title available
Today's Document
Cosmic Funnies
NASA
Cosimo Galluzzi

oozey mess

ellievsbear
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Kaledo Art
sheepfilms
styofa doing anything
taylor price
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

JBB: An Artblog!
KIROKAZE
art blog(derogatory)
No title available
No title available

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from T1
seen from Indonesia
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United States
@my-creative-world
Saw this on TikTok
After Your Own Heart {Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader}
In which after deciding you don’t believe in love at first sight anymore, you meet Eddie Munson at a house party.
CW: Fluff, Self-Deprecation, Insecurity, Some angst, Female Reader, Mention of Kidnapping?
Word Count: 2.8K
part two is up now!
You had never thought yourself the prettiest or most interesting girl in the room, hell you barely even believed that you belonged. Yet here you are, another night, with another group of girls who don’t even know your last name, at another party. What you were originally told was a small get together with some drinks and maybe some party games, was actually a house full of writhing, dancing bodies that reeked of alcohol with suspicious substances being ingested in shadowy corners. Far from your normal scene.
You had a knack for finding a spot on the wall and laying claim on it, your fortress of solitude for the evening while the girls you came with danced and had their fun. Tonight though, every single corner seemed to already be full, leaving you to find solace in the second best place. The kitchens at these parties were usually just a place that people seemed to pass through, they’d come get their drinks and maybe linger for a moment before returning to the main space. It was also an apt place for people watching. Sometimes if you were lucky the homeowners even had a social pet that would hang out in the kitchen, waiting for scraps, and you were usually more than happy to oblige.
Carefully picking your way through the crowd of bodies, careful not to step on the few random cans littering the floor, you navigated towards the kitchen. There were a few people standing in the kitchen, a lanky girl with short dirty blonde hair- whose sharp features glowed under the yellow kitchen lights, talking to her was a taller man with coiffed hair and a smile that radiated confidence with a side of cockiness, standing a few feet away sorting through a pile of snacks was another man. He was tall with broad shoulders, his dark curls were cut into a longer mullet, he was wearing a fitted Iron Maiden t-shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans adorned with silver chains. He had beautiful facial features, almost Roman, making him a different type of handsome, one that could only be described with words lost to time and language. If you had believed in love at first sight, you’d believe that you were going to marry that handsome man.
They didn’t notice you at first, talking excitedly among themselves, discussing a new movie coming out in theatres. You slid over to the counter towards the variety of alcohol and drinks sitting out, pouring yourself a coke, opting out of alcohol in case you ended up needing to walk home. Finding a space against the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, not far from where the group of friends stood, you made yourself comfortable and prepared to people-watch for the next two hours or until your friends got bored. The glass was cold against your skin, an anchor in this too loud, overcrowded house. You expected the group of friends to leave the kitchen after a few minutes, but they remained, seemingly having the same idea as you of finding a safe haven among the cluster of bodies and overwhelming sensations.
You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but it was difficult with being the only singleton in the room. The girl of the group and the man with the coiffed hair had started teasing the mulleted man. You had been listening in long enough to gather that their names were Robin, Steve, and Eddie. You liked it, the name Eddie seemed quite fitting for him.
“We brought you here to be social! To gain experience in the world, and you’re standing in the kitchen getting handsy with the snacks,” Steve exclaimed, seemingly baffled by his friend’s lack of desire to be social.
Robin hummed in agreement, “Your only other friends are kids, and not just kids, weird ones. It’s weird, dude.”
You coughed in an attempt to cover up the laugh that bubbled out from your lips, and suddenly all eyes were on you. A small smile grew onto Robin's face, seemingly proud that her joke landed with somebody. Steve looked you up and down briefly, nodding in what seemed to be approval before slinging his arm over Eddie's shoulder. Eddie glanced at you and his brown eyes went wide, you noticed red splotches appearing on his neck.
“Look man, now you have to be social. Are you really going to let a pretty girl believe that you’re weird and can only make friends with kids? That’s embarrassing,” Steve pronounced, using the on Eddie’s shoulder to give him a slight push forward.
Eddie brought his large hands up to his face, silver rings on his fingers glowing under the kitchen light as he dragged them down his face, keeping them there to cover his eyes in order to not have to look at you. You knew the look of embarrassment, you wore it often, wanting to comfort him you searched for the right words.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think the girls I came with remember I exist.” It was self deprecating, and humiliating, but if your embarrassment made him feel better, you decided it was worth it, it wasn’t often you got attention from a handsome stranger.
At that, his fingers shifted, revealing his eyes and a small smile that had made its way on to his lips. His eyes were staring right back into yours, curious and playful, they were like pools of liquid molasses that you could see yourself drowning in. Steve and Robin glanced at each other knowingly and moved towards the doorway, glancing back briefly to find you and Eddie still locked into each other’s gazes.
You spoke first, trying to fill the comfortable silence, “Sorry for laughing, it was just really relatable.”
Eddie removed his hands from his face, dropping them at his sides, his lopsided grin now proudly on display. “It’s okay, us losers have to stick together,” He paused, thinking over his words before a look of panic spread across his face, “N-Not that you’re a loser! You seem perfect! I mean perfectly normal! I’m the loser, not you, me.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, “I’m a self proclaimed loser, but my actual name is Y/N.”
“Eddie,” He smiled, reaching out his hand for you to shake.
His hand slotted into yours, they seemed to fit together perfectly, you both looked down at the contact, and you wondered if he felt the sparks too. The handshake went on for a little longer than socially acceptable, but you didn’t mind.
“So, Y/N, what is a pretty girl like you doing at a party like this?”
A warm, pink blush rose up your neck and spread across your cheeks, “I came here with some girls I know from work, but this isn’t really my scene. What about you, since apparently you’re not here to be social.”
Eddie leaned against the counter looking up at the ceiling seemingly deep in thought. “Well, Steve and Robin decided I needed to get out of the house. Apparently, locking yourself in your room all day and listening to music at full volume is crazy and unhealthy.” Making air quotations around the word unhealthy.
“That sounds like a perfect way to spend the day, maybe they’re the crazy ones. I would much rather be doing that right now then be here,” You tapped the side of your solo cup thoughtfully.
Eddie stepped closer, with every step you could feel the rhythm of your heart speed up, he was only maybe a foot or two from you now, you almost thought you could hear his heart hammering over the sound of the bass blaring through the loud speakers.
“If that’s how you feel, my van is parked out front. We could go listen to music until our friends are ready to leave?”
His eyes gleamed hopefully, his excitement was contagious, you wanted more than anything to spend time with the handsome man. But there was always that voice in the back of your head, nagging and fearful, reminding you that you don’t know this man, you don’t know what he’s capable of, and most importantly you didn’t want to get your hopes up only to be hurt again. You had been in a few relationships in your twenty-two years of life, the last one had left you not only heartbroken, but terrified of your own feelings, terrified that you would be left behind again. You had worked so hard to move on, to build yourself up, but since that relationship you felt insecure, afraid to be who you truly were out of fear that you weren't good enough.
Somehow no matter how hard that little part of your brain screamed at you to stop, to not pass go, Eddie’s smile was just so disarming, so gentle, that you couldn’t believe he had a bad bone in his body. And you wanted this, you wanted to be brave, wanted to be the girl you once were, the one who took chances and believed in love at first sight. Eddie must have sensed your unease because he took a step back.
“Sorry! That was a little forward of me, we can totally just hang out here, or if you don’t want to hang out that’s cool too,” The disappointment in his voice was thick, and that was the deciding factor for you.
You took a step forward, “No, I want to hang out. I think that sounds fun, as long as you let me choose a few songs to listen to.”
“Okay.” Eddie grinned so wide that it almost split his face into two.
“Okay.” A smile grew across your own cheeks, wide enough to almost match Eddie’s.
He offered you his hand, and you took it, allowing him to lead you through the crowds, out the door, and towards the front seat of his van. The van was older, black, and beat up, but inside you could tell it was well cared for. Despite Eddie’s rockstar appearance, the interior of the van was clean and smelled of cigarette smoke and sandalwood, a keychain with a dice, a crow, and some black and red beads hung from the rearview mirror. Eddie was sitting in the driver's seat, you in the passenger seat. He reached across your lap and dug through the glove box, before pulling out a Metallica CD.
“You still use CD’s?” You asked, choking back a giggle.
Eddie feigned offense, holding his hand to his heart, his face twisted in fake upset, “Of course I do, you can’t just listen to the greatest music of all time on your phone. It’s like some people have no shame.”
He plucked the CD from its case and placed it into the slot, and almost immediately, the stereo came to life at top volume, blaring Master of Puppets. You winced at the volume, convinced your head might explode from the noise. Eddie sheepishly turned the volume down and smiled at you.
The two of you discussed anything and everything over the next two hours, your childhoods, your dreams, why you prefer cats over dogs. Never in your life had you felt like someone really listened, and actually cared about all of the minor and major occurrences in your life. And Eddie, god, he was funny, he was smart, and he was so very kind. You couldn’t compare him to other men you had met in the past, Eddie was an enigma, special, once in a lifetime.
You didn’t know it, but Eddie felt the same way. He saw you, the kind, strong, loving girl that had been hurt one too many times and was scared to be true to herself. He had decided that your laugh was his favorite sound in the universe, he would tell as many jokes as he could think of just to hear that sound again and again. Growing up, everyone treated him as a failure, like he’d never amount to anything, like all he’d ever be was that kid from the trailer park. You saw him though, the bright, eccentric soul that had dreams of escaping his hometown and leading a fulfilling life, even if it wasn’t one that others thought to be fulfilling.
You were laying your feet across Eddie’s lap, the two of you discussing the best type of boxed mac and cheese when there was a knock at the van door. It cracked open to reveal Steve and Robin, they scrambled into back seat, eyes wild and frantic. You and Eddie shared a confused look, you opened your mouth to ask what was going on when Steve began shouting.
“Drive, Eddie! We have to get out of here!”
You pulled your feet off of Eddie’s lap, and Eddie turned the key in the ignition, the engine sputtering to life.
“What are you waiting for? Drive!” Robin cried out, glancing anxiously out the back window.
Eddie pulled out of the parking spot and began driving away from the house. Robin and Steve let out a collective sigh of relief as the house disappeared from view. You and Eddie shared another glance.
“Will one of you tell me why I’m driving away like we’re fleeing a crime scene?”
“Cops were coming, people were doing shady shit,” She huffed out, slumping against the bench seat in the back of the van. She sat there quietly for a minute before jerking upright and alert, “Wait shit, is this considered kidnapping?” Robin pointed at you, shocked that you were sitting content in the passenger seat.
You paused for a second, long enough to realize you just fled some party with a bunch of strangers. You weren’t too worried about ditching the group of girls you were with, they would have done the exact same thing to you. Eddie glanced over at you, his eyes wide at the realization that he had just stolen you.
Thinking it over for a minute, you shrugged, “It’s fine, as long as I can get a ride home,” You glanced over and smiled softly at Eddie, who seemed to relax under your gaze.
“Yeah, I can do that, just give me the directions.”
In the hurry to get away from the party, Eddie had driven a good distance away from your apartment. In the backseat, Robin and Steve were dozing off, exhausted from their scramble to get away before potentially getting arrested. Leaving you and Eddie alone. You couldn’t help but stare. Every time you passed under a streetlight his features glowed and he looked practically heavenly, and every time you were awestruck once again. Noticing you staring, Eddie moved his arm to place his hand on your knee, the gesture was small, but in that moment your heart lit ablaze. You could have stayed in this moment forever, classic rock playing softly paired with the rumbling of tires over the potholed streets, his large hand covering your knee, and the stolen glances at each other as he navigated back to your place.
When the van pulled up to your apartment, you felt your heart sink. What if this was it? What if you never saw him again. He must have noticed the shift in your mood, because he squeezed your knee softly, and gave you a knowing look.
“I want to see you again,” He said softly, his hand moving from your knee to envelop your hand in his own.
The sinking feeling dissipated immediately and you smiled at him, hoping that smile could convey everything you were feeling in that moment, “I’d love that.”
Eddie pulled out a flip phone from his back pocket, you immediately started to laugh, pulling out your smartphone and opening it to your contacts list. You traded phones, you precariously typed your phone number into his phone, careful to make sure every number was correct, you put your name in, debated putting something cheesy and romantic after it, but realized that it was too complicated using the flip phone. Eddie handed you back your phone, and you grinned ear to ear seeing the name he had chosen for himself, ‘Your Future Boyfriend’. You placed your phone back in your pocket, and opened the van door, hopping out and walking towards the drivers side.
“You’ll call?” You asked sheepishly, almost embarrassed at how hopeful you sounded.
Eddie reached out of his window, pushing a strand of hair away from your cheek, “As soon as I get home.”
“Goodnight, Eddie.” You said gently, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
With that, you turned towards your building and walked up the steps. Before you entered the door you turned around, Eddie watched patiently from the van, waiting until you entered the building. It was a kindness you didn’t know you needed. You blew him a kiss before stepping into your building, watching as his van rumbled away into the darkness. That night as you were turning out your lights and snuggling underneath your comforter, your phone lit up. ‘Your Future Boyfriend’ displayed across the screen, and you smiled to yourself as you answered on the first ring.
AN: Thank you for reading! I used to write all the time and have recently rediscovered my love for it. I hope you enjoyed :3
🇬🇧 Emotional relief, because a psychologist is very expensive…
🇪🇸 Desahogo emocional, porque el psicólogo está muy caro...
🇬🇧
I am over 30 years old, and a few years ago, all I thought about was getting a steady job that would allow me to save money and move out of my parents' house.
I have been stringing together temporary contracts for years, which have not allowed me to buy a house. But I was hopeful that sooner or later I would have my own place, with my own decor, my geeky stuff, my personality, MY home. That was my only concern.
As my savings have allowed me to do so, I have spent the last two years studying to change my career path with the intention of getting a job in the healthcare sector. Hoping to find there the stability I didn't have before.
I worked my ass off studying, I got grades I never imagined I would get, not even as a teenager, but they didn't let me feel that sense of triumph, because at the same time that I was getting great grades, I had to live with my parents' arguments, their shouting and watching their marriage fall apart…
Who would have thought that everything would go to hell with my parents' divorce?
No one warns you that your parents' divorce not only ruins your life as a child/teenager, but also as an adult.
Being locked up under the same roof as them gets on my nerves every day.
I never imagined that the first patient I would have to treat for an anxiety attack would be myself. My patience is stretched to the limit every day. I often find myself on the verge of tears, but what pisses me off the most is that my parents won't even let me feel bad. It seems like I don't even have the right to be sad, angry, or depressed… They take everything personally, as if I were attacking them with my discomfort or as if their feelings were more important than mine.
I don't recognise my parents anymore. I feel like I'm living with strangers. I no longer live with my parents, I live with two flatmates who only think about themselves.
My mother comes home from work and locks herself in her room. At most, she says ‘hello’ when she gets home. I never had much in common with her, but now she's someone I don't know. She behaves like a teenager who leaves home without warning and you don't know when she'll be back, whether it's the weekend or a weekday. She only comes to me when she can't watch Netflix or Disney.
I used to have things in common with my father, but now I keep my distance from him. I don't know if it's because of the way he was brought up or if he's just playing dumb, but now that my mother isn't here to do the laundry, cook, go shopping, etc., he seems to think that's my job from now on, and if I don't do something and he has to do it, he ends up making hurtful comments.
I do most of the housework because I now live with two idiots, but if I don't do something once, he makes a comment as if I were punishing him. Obviously, I keep my distance from my father to force him to do his household chores. There are three of us at home and we share the chores between us, until I or one of my parents leaves to live separately, but in the end they make me feel bad for the things I DON'T do, but they don't want to do either.
.
.
.
I've always been very distrustful of people because of problems I had with false friendships when I was little. In the end, I grew up not believing in best friends and being unable to open up to friends I've had for more than 15 years… Now, to top it all off, because of my parents, I don't believe in love either, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust someone that much. Now I'm afraid to open up to someone, to put my heart and soul into a relationship and have it all fall apart. I'm afraid of ending up like my parents. It seems like a 36-year marriage can end in an instant. As if it had never been real.
I have the thought of being broken. I feel broken. I am broken.
Unfortunately, the cost of a private psychologist is impossible to pay without completely eating into what little savings I have left, and although my country has free healthcare, the wait to see a psychologist can be up to six months. That's not enough time to fix the worries and fears in my mind. So I vent here, hoping that putting this shit down on paper will take some of the weight off my shoulders and out of my head.
If you've made it this far, thank you for listening to the problems of a stranger.
If you are going through something similar, I want you to know that you are not alone and that even though we don't know each other, I send you a big hug and wish you a good day, afternoon or evening.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
🇪🇸 Tengo más de 30 años, y hace unos años, solo pensaba en conseguir un trabajo fijo que me permitiera ahorrar dinero e irme de casa de mis padres.
Llevo años empalmando contratos temporales que no me permiten comprarme una casa. Pero tenía esperanza de que tarde o temprano iba a tener mi propio sitio, con mi decoración, mis frikadas, mi personalidad, MI hogar. Era la única preocupación que tenía.
Como mis ahorros me lo han permitido, he pasado los dos últimos años estudiando para cambiar mi carrera profesional con la intención de conseguir trabajo en el sector sanitario. Esperando encontrar ahí, la estabilidad que no tenía antes.
Me he roto los cuernos estudiando, he sacado notas que ni me hubiera imaginado, ni he tenido siendo adolescente, pero no me han dejado tener esa sensación de triunfo, porque al mismo tiempo que yo sacaba mis estudios con notas geniales, tenía que convivir con las discusiones de mis padres, sus gritos y viendo cómo su matrimonio se iba desmoronando…
Quién me iba a decir que todo se iba a ir a la mierda con el divorcio de mis padres.
Nadie te avisa de que el divorcio de tus padres no solo te jode la vida de pequeño/adolescente, de adulto también.
Estar encerrada bajo el mismo techo que ellos, me pone todos los días de los nervios.
Jamás me imaginé que al primer paciente que tendría que tratar por un ataque de ansiedad sería a mi misma. Tengo la paciencia al límite todos los días. Me encuentro muchas veces al borde de las lágrimas, pero lo que más me jode es que mis padres ni me permiten sentirme mal. Parece que no tengo ni el derecho de estar triste, enfadada, o deprimida... Todo se lo toman a lo personal, como si yo les atacara a ellos con mi malestar o como si lo que ellos sienten fuera más importante que mis sentimientos.
Ya no reconozco a mis padres. Tengo la sensación de vivir con desconocidos. Ya no vivo con mis padres, vivo con dos compañeros de piso que solo piensan en ellos mismos.
Mi madre vuelve del trabajo y se encierra en su habitación. Como mucho me dice un “hola” al llegar a casa. Nunca había tenido mucho en común con ella, pero ahora es alguien que no conozco. Se comporta como una adolescente que sin previo aviso se larga de casa y no sabes cuando va a volver, da igual si es fin de semana o entre semana. Solo acude a mí, cuando no puede ver Netflix o Disney.
Con mi padre tenía cosas en común, pero ahora me mantengo a cierta distancia de él. No sé si es por la educación de su epoca o que se hace el tonto, pero ahora que no esta mi madre para hacer la colada, hacer de comer, hacer la compra, etc. Parece que se cree que ese es mi trabajo a partir de ahora y si no hago algo y lo tiene que hacer él, me acaba soltando algún comentario hiriente.
Me como la mayor parte de las tareas de la casa, porque ahora vivo con dos gilipollas, pero si una vez no hago algo, me suelta algún comentario como si yo lo estuviera castigando. Obvio que me mantengo a distancia con mi padre para obligarlo a hacer sus tareas del hogar. Somos tres personas en casa y las cosas se reparten entre los tres, hasta que yo o uno de mis padres se largue a vivir por separado, pero al final me hacen sentir mal, por las cosas que NO hago, pero que ellos tampoco quieren hacer.
.
.
.
Siempre he desconfiado mucho de la gente, por problemas que tuve con falsas amistades de pequeña, al final crecí sin creer en los mejores amigos y siendo incapaz de abrirme a amistades que tengo ya desde hace más de 15 años… ahora para colmo, por culpa de mis padres tampoco creo en el amor, ni sé si podré confiar tanto en alguien. Ahora tengo miedo de abrirme a una persona, poner mi corazón y mi alma en una relación y que todo se rompa. Tengo miedo de acabar como mis padres. Que parezca que un matrimonio de 36 años, se acabe de un momento para otro. Como si nunca hubiera sido real.
Tengo la sensación de estar rota. Me siento rota. Estoy rota.
Lamentablemente el costo de un psicólogo privado es imposible pagarlo sin que se coma por completo los pocos ahorros que me quedan y aunque mi país tiene sanidad gratuita, el tiempo para que un psicólogo te vea, puede ser de hasta seis meses. Insuficiente para poder arreglar las preocupaciones y miedos de mi mente. Así que me desahogo aquí, esperando que dejar la mierda por escrito, me quite un poco el peso de los hombros y la cabeza.
Si has llegado hasta aquí, gracias por escuchar los problemas de un desconocido.
Si están pasando por algo similar, quiero que sepas que no estás solo y que aunque no nos conozcamos, te mando un fuerte abrazo y deseo que tengas un buen día, tarde o noche.
Welcome back to Instagram. Sign in to check out what your friends, family & interests have been capturing & sharing around the world.
Morning - Eddie Munson
words: 0.7k Quick nothing about morning with Eddie
You blink your eyes open. Morning light, pale and gold, filters through the cheap blinds of the trailer, painting stripes across the tangled sheets and the landscape of Eddie’s bare back. He’s facing away from you, his famous hair a magnificent, chaotic cloud on the pillow beside yours.
You lie still, not wanting to break the spell. The trailer park is quiet for once, the only sound the deep, even rhythm of Eddie’s breathing and the distant chirp of a bird. This peace is a rare, stolen thing. It’s so different from the Eddie the world sees—the loud, theatrical, heavy-metal guitarist of the Corroded Coffin. This Eddie is unguarded. Soft.
You shift minutely, pressing a little closer against his back, he turned and his arm tightens around you instinctively. A low, sleep-rough mumble escapes him. “Mmrf. No, the Demogorgon… can’t have my...”
You smile into his shoulder blade. Even in his dreams, he’s fighting monsters.
After a moment, you carefully extricate yourself from his hold. The old mattress springs whine in protest, but Eddie just sighs, his hand patting the space where you were before stilling.
You pull on his discarded Hellfire club t-shirt, the hem hitting you mid-thigh, and pad softly into the small kitchen. The coffee is where it always is, a cheap can of pre-ground stuff next to a beat-up cezve. You fill it with water, scoop the grounds in, and set it on the stove with a quiet clink.
While it begins to gurgle and spit, you lean against the counter and just watch him sleep. The lines of anxiety that usually bracket his mouth are gone. His long lashes are dark against his cheeks. He looks younger.
You’re pouring the coffee into two chipped mugs when you hear the sheets rustle. A groggy voice, husky with sleep, comes from the bedroom area.
“Hey. Who said you could look that good in my shirt?”
You turn with a smile. Eddie is propped up on one elbow, his hair even more spectacularly wild than before, his eyes dark and warm as they track your every move. He’s grinning, that lopsided, easy grin he reserves for you alone in these quiet moments.
“It was the only thing I could find that didn’t smell like a dungeon,” you tease, bringing the mugs over.
He sits up, the sheet pooling around his waist, and accepts the coffee. His fingers brush against yours, calloused and familiar. “My dungeon smells of fine mahogany and many years of fear, thank you very much,” he says, then takes a sip, his eyes closing in bliss. “God, you make better coffee than me.”
“Anyone makes better coffee than you, Munson. You use twice the grounds and call it ‘Dragon’s Brew.’”
He opens one eye, a mock-offended look on his face. “It’s for the brave of heart! The caffeine-addled warriors!” He sets his mug down and reaches for you, his hands settling on your hips and pulling you down onto the edge of the bed. “Speaking of brave warriors… come back here. My personal space feels a little too personal without you in it.”
You laugh, letting him maneuver you until you’re tucked against his side, your head on his shoulder. He takes the mug from your hand and sets it next to his, his priorities clearly sorted. For a long while, you just lie there together, listening to the percolator’s final hisses and the world waking up outside.
His hand strokes lazy patterns on your arm. “No work today?” he murmurs into your hair.
“Not ‘til later.”
“Good.” He kisses your forehead, his lips warm. “The party doesn’t disband until the DM says so. And I say we’re staying right here.”
You tilt your head up to look at him. In the gentle morning light, you can see every faint freckle across his nose, the tiny scar above his eyebrow, the genuine contentment in his eyes.
“Is that an order?” you ask, your voice soft.
He smiles, a genuine, tender thing that makes your heart stutter. “Nah,” he whispers, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. “It’s a request. A really, really soft one.”
Masterlist
Today I received the posters that I was planning to take to the San Diego Comic Con in Malaga with the hope of seeing Pedrito Pascal or Joe Quinn… But unfortunately it won't be this year 🥲 But I swear I'll get those four signatures, because that multi-colored and super shiny poster would look great with some black signatures and you know it 😂
Hey, man, c'mere. Listen. Get in real close, this is important.
You're gonna make stuff again. You're gonna make stuff you're proud of. You're gonna make stuff you're excited to share. You're going to feel that overwhelming drive to create, not just the frantic I want to want to you're stuck in now. You're going to have awesome ideas, and you're going to make them into reality. You're going to create again. You're still an artist. You're still a writer. You're still home to the same passion you had before. You'll find it again. It's not gone. It's just resting. Let it rest. You're going to make stuff again. I promise.
Español/English
Me he puesto a curiosear mi teléfono nuevo y veo que puedo hacer fondos de pantalla con IA. La verdad, pensaba que como mucho podría crear una imagen en 3D como podía hacerse en Facebook hace un tiempo, que simplemente la imagen se movería ligeramente cuando movías el móvil ... Pero nop!
Casi pierdo las bragas del susto cuando veo que la imagen se mueve por completo .... Lo he flipado en colores 🤣 Y claro, con una imagen no bastaba, así que seguí probando con diferentes fotos .... Y ya ahí la IA se empezó a poner creativa y picantona. 😏😂
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I start messing around with my new phone. I see I can create wallpapers with artificial intelligence, and I start playing with the AI, thinking it would make the photo move with a small 3D relief like you could do before on Facebook… but no! 😅
I almost died of fear (for not said I almost lost my panties) when I saw the first image moving.
The first photo was normal… then the AI started to get naughty.😏
🌊Mermaid Verosika🧜♀️
The winner from the Pirate poll from Twitter. I didn't have thought a full illustration but I think the occasion deserved it since it's the first time draw Verosika.
If my full rendered illustration get much attention, I'll draw more illustrations with this level of detail. I mean, this would encourage me a lot if I see people recognize my effort, this is a lot of time :")
For the person who buys the custom doll of Mucha, they will receive a hand-painted backpack ☺️
Morning wood | Eddie Munson x FEM!Reader
Summary: Eddie always wakes up with a boner, so you have some fun with it
Cw: Free use kink, somnophilia, previously talked consent, dirty talk, piercings, oral (male receiving), riding, unprotected p in v, creampie
Waking up with Eddie was always pleasant, apart from being able to wake up next to the most handsome and weird boy in town, you got to wake up to his not-so-mini-me all hard and needy in his pants
You always slept on your side hugging him, he most of the time would roll on his back, so you would hike your leg over his hip, hugging his lanky figure while you dooze away
And every morning was the same, he would wake up hard as a rock, which he had told you it's normal for men to have, you didn't expect him to have them everyday though
So after you had spoken about it, you decided on letting you use him whenever you wanted, as well for you whenever he wanted, even if you guys were asleep
So this morning there you were slowly waking up, smacking lips together from a long sleep, daylight barely seeping in on the dark curtains of your room, your hand fell down on him when you finished stretching and you felt it, his hard on poking on his pajama shorts
"Well, hello there" you spoke to it, holding yourself on your left arm, your hand snaking in his shorts to touch his dick "Oohh, so hard for me" you bit your lip as you sat up to get a better look
Now on your belly in front of him, you had taken off his shorts to expose his beautiful cock, it always made you drool how pretty a dick could be, you had seen your fair share of dicks and they were always, boring and ugly, but Eddie's was special
It always stood high, barely curved and with only a few veins and one prominent, his head was cut and it was a pretty pink color, he had it pierced a few years ago, now completely healed the stud on his underside always caught on your clit or on your g spot when he fucked you, his balls hairy but well kept for you hung low always full of cum and the size, the size was perfect, 7 inches of cock he knew how to use, you always wondered why no one gave him a chance, all those mean girls would be crying if they saw what they missed
But now this dick was your's, all your's and no one else's, so there you were giving it some love, suckling on the head while jerking off softly what you didn't have in your mouth, you took your time with it, knowing Eddie wouldn't wake up due to his heavy sleep, you put it down your throat and bobbed your head up and down, getting it all nice and wet you took off your shorts and straddled his waist
"Come on buddy, you know where you belong, fuck-" you said as you guided his dick into you and sank down, eyes rolling back as you fully seated yourself on him
Now starting a slow bouncing you moaned softly, not wanting to wake him up, not until he was close to cumming anyway, he made the prettiest faces when he wakes up just to cum inside you
He kept on sleeping, slightly moving to adjust but nothing to disturb your rhythm, still with your sleeping shirt on, which was one of his shirts, you kept on riding him, rocking your hips, grinding down, circling around, doing all kinds of stuff to get you closer to your high, hands on his belly for leverage and ass bouncing up and down under the covers
"Fuck, so close" when you felt him twitch and saw his stomach strain you knew he was close, so you laid down on him to kiss him, starting to wake him up "Baby wake up, fuck, so close to cumming"
His eyes opened slowly, as a grunt left his throat, his morning voice always got you off quicker "Fuck, what a wonderful view" his hands grabbed your hips to bounce you faster, his head buried into his pillow as his face scrunched filling your pussy up with his warm cum, making you have an orgasm on top of him, legs shaking and eyes rolling back
When you finally came down, he patted your thighs looking up at you with tired eyes and a lazy smile
"Good morning to you too, did you have fun?"
"Oh hell yeah, I swear he looked at me first"
"That's what you always say" he said as he towered over you, ready for round two now that he was fully awake "My turn..."