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#this one spoke to me
scalproie · 4 months
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melon-cream-enmu · 8 months
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This might be wholesome (or not), but how would Enmu react to his darling willingly kissing the throbbing veins on his face? Thanks for answering! ❤️
He'd be a mess. It confused him why you'd stood in front of him and reached for his face without saying anything. You've done this kind of thing before, so he assumed you wanted a kiss and he leaned in to give you that. But your head shifts away from his lips and he's a bit saddened before he feels warmth on his chin. His eyes widen. You've kissed him, but you've kissed him somewhere new. The protruding vein on his chin.
His lips part to say something but whatever it was, it's forgotten when you move his head gently, brushing you lips along his cheek and following the vein there. You kiss it so sweetly his heart can't help but race. He doesn't know if you mean to, but you hum, as if this action is pleasurable to you. His hands tremble as they lay on your waist, trying not to wander and ruin such a sweet, romantic moment.
You follow the natural curves if his face, of his skull, as you kiss him more. Giving several kisses to the longer veins. You kiss his temples, between his brows, his forehead, his brow bone, his cheek bones, everything. He's left as a blushing, dizzy mess by the time you come back around and look into his eyes. They plead for you to kiss him, and you do, hands brushing down his neck and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
He melts into you, arms wrapping around you so tight as he let's your lips take his, reciprocating each and every kiss with as much love and passion.
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wine-red · 1 year
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please seventeen. i beg of you
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garlic-sauc3 · 7 months
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Pain — has an Element of Blank —
It cannot recollect
When it begun — or if there were
A time when it was not —
It has no Future — but itself —
Its Infinite realms contain
Its Past — enlightened to perceive
New Periods — of Pain.
Emily Dickinson, 650
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lights-stars · 1 year
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Once upon a time I met myself and I ran.
Juliana Stein. Untitled, 2000. Acrylic on canvas.
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steddiejudas · 5 months
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STWG Daily Drabble 11/29/23
prompt: modern au
Eddie is harshly woken by his phone ringing at— JESUS christ, 4:30 AM.
The number isn’t saved in his contacts, and normally he would just let it ring or hang up the call so he could go back to sleep, but his brain is a little fried so early in the morning so he answers it like a reflex.
“Hello?” he asks. He can hear the sleep in his own voice and hopes to god this call isn’t something important that his slow, rough voice will make him look bad for.
“Robin!!”
A very loud, very drunk voice screams the name Eddie doesn’t recognize into the line. He lacks the wherewithal to really sus out what’s happening, so he summons every ounce of intelligence to the best of his ability to mutter: “huh?”
“Robbie I’m so drunk and my phone died. The bartender let me use his to call you. come pick me up.”
The guy is whining directly into Eddie’s ear. it should be annoying, should be grating to his sleep-addled brain, but he can’t help but think he sounds cute.
“Uh, hey man, this isn’t Robin. I think you got the wrong number,” Eddie says.
The guy on the other end of the line goes silent, and Eddie imagines he’s pouting over there, probably too drunk to remember he needs to speak into the phone.
“Hey,” he says. “You okay? Are you going to be able to call this Robin person?”
“I did,” the guy whines again. “You’re not Robin.”
“No, I definitely am not. I’m Eddie. And who are you?”
“I’m Steve. Will you please come pick me up?”
He considers this, chuckling lightly to himself. This Steve sure is trusting. Eddie could be a murderer just waiting for a cute boy like Steve to call him up, and he says as much, but apparently all Steve hears is:
“You think I'm cute? Wait, how can you tell? Are you in the walls or something?”
Is he in the walls? Jesus this guy really is ass blasted, huh. And Eddie can’t leave a fellow bad late night decision maker to fend for himself, can he?
“You sound cute enough sweetheart. sit tight, I'll be there in 15 minutes.”
“mmkay!” Steve sounds purely elated to have Eddie on the way, and hangs up before he has the chance to confirm where he is. It’s no matter really, there’s only one bar in the area that’s open this late, and it seems the bartender picked up on that lacking piece of information as his phone pings with a location pin a minute later.
It’s one of Eddie’s usual haunts so he gets there in 10, familiar with the route and aided by the complete lack of traffic at this hour.
He wonders if in the last 10 minutes Steve has forgotten all about him. He is just a stranger he drunk dialed after all, and Steve’s so far gone his short term memory must be nothing at this point.
But when he pulls up and enters the building, he sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen alone at the bar. He hopes to any god that will listen that Steve at least remembers his enthusiasm about getting home so he can see the way that elation shows on his handsome features. The bartender who’s been babysitting, and appears to be forcing him to drink water, points to the door and Steve turns around, his face alighting with all the brilliance of precious gemstones.
“Eddie!” He shouts, throwing himself off the stool to stumble over to him. He nearly falls to the ground, but Eddie is there to hold him up.
Their faces are inches apart, and Eddie can’t help but notice the way his drunkenness flushes his cheeks, giving the scattering of moles across his cheeks a beautiful backdrop.
“Hey pretty boy. Let’s get you home, okay? Where do you live?”
“With Robin,” Steve says, his face betraying the fact that he really thinks that’s the answer Eddie needs.
“Mhm,” Eddie patiently hums. “And where does Robin live?”
“With me, silly.”
“Oh boy, you’re really out of it. Why don’t I take you back to my place, get some food in you, charge up your phone, and we’ll go from there.”
“Is food the only thing I'll get in me?” Steve asks, pressing in closer to Eddie’s grasp.
It startles a laugh out of him. One that starts deep in his chest and rolls through his body, throwing his head back and shaking his shoulders.
“Steve, you barely know me. You’re just lucky I happen to be a very nice, very respectful guy, who is going to
feed you and nothing. else.”
Steve pouts a little as Eddie puts an arm around his waist and pulls him out to the car, loading him in the passenger seat and buckling him in.
It seems Steve has zoned out on the ride, either lulled by the movements or, god forbid, incredibly carsick. Either way he sits in silence with his face pressed against the cool glass while Eddie lets him be alone with his thoughts for the short drive home.
Getting up the stairs to Eddie’s apartment is a challenge. It’s like Steve is doing his absolute best to go ass over tea kettle down them. Eddie braces himself behind him, hands on his waist to keep him steady, trying his absolute darndest to ignore the lines of hard muscle under his sweater.
Now is NOT the time.
They make it inside with little incident, Eddie plopping Steve down on the couch to disappear into the kitchen after fishing Steve’s phone out of his pocket and plugging it in next to him.
“So, I’m not much of a cook,” Eddie hollers. “But how do you feel about grilled cheese?”
No answer comes.
“Steve?”
Nothing.
Eddie peeks out of the kitchen to find a snoring Steve, sprawled out on the couch like a starfish. Somehow he’s even cuter like this. It brings a fond smile to Eddie’s face as he covers him in a blanket, tucks a pillow under his head and leaves a trash can by his side just in case.
It’s almost 5:30 now, and the exhaustion hits him all at once. Eddie gives the man sawing logs on his couch one last once over before going back to his own bed and crashing, hoping for at least another hour or two of sleep.
When he wakes, it’s with an unexpected sense of excitement, expecting Steve to be on his couch ready to have a coherent conversation and a real introduction, but when he makes his way out to the living room, Steve is gone, his pillow stacked on top of the neatly folded blanket.
He shouldn’t be sad about this. Steve is, after all, just a stranger who was drunk and couldn’t even remember his own address. He was probably embarrassed, confused, hell maybe even scared to be waking up in a stranger’s house with vague memories of how he got there. He tries to focus on that aspect of the situation, rather than his own disappointment. He does not succeed.
Eddie sits down on the couch, in the very same spot Steve laid his head the night before and wraps himself up in the blanket. He buries his face in it, inhaling the faint scent Steve left on it and wonders why he even cares. It wasn’t as if they had some big whirlwind romance in the span of the hour they were together; but Steve was so sweet, so cute, so excited to see him after speaking on the phone for just a couple minutes. It wasn’t anything more than a random act of kindness, but maybe Eddie wanted it to be.
It’s as Eddie is thinking it over that his phone pings with a message. Eddie groans, it’s probably just Gareth, or maybe the bartender from last night checking that everyone is safe. Though even that is wishful thinking. He checks anyway, trying his best to tamp down any wishful thinking until he sees the unknown number on his screen with one simple word.
[463-291-8275]: Thanks.
Eddie feels a lump in his throat, his chest filling up like a balloon. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, doesn’t even know if it is Steve, but shit he fucking hopes so.
[Eddie]: Steve? How did you get my number again?
[463-291-8275]: Uhhh… i definitely didn’t try like 10 variations of Robin’s phone number to find the one number i mistyped when i accidentally called you last night
Eddie frantically adds the number to his contacts before texting back, thanking whatever powers that be for giving him another shot.
[Eddie]: Wow I must have left quite the impression on you Stevie 😏
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: you could say that
Eddie smirks to himself, trying to ignore the blush that warms his face at Steve’s words. He tries to come up with what to say next, how to segue into asking him out on a date, but before he can, his phone buzzes with more messages from Steve.
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: so i know this might seem a little strange since we barely talked before i passed out in a drunk heap on your couch
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: thanks for not killing me btw
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: but um would you maybe want to hang out sometime?
Eddie jumps up from the couch, pumping his fist in the air like he just won the lottery. then, like he’s just remembering he lives alone, he yells at no one in particular: “FUCK! YES!” There’s an angry knock on the wall from his neighbor, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.
[Eddie]: idk about that Stevie
He goes to reply in his typical teasing fashion, but Steve’s reply comes in immediately before he can finish the thought.
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i totally get it
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: last night was probably weird for you
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: feel free to block my number i’m so sorry
[Eddie]: Woah, slow your roll there big boy!
[Eddie]: I said I'm not so sure about hanging out with you.
[Eddie]: But only because I’d rather take you out on a date
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: Oh!
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: date! yes! date is good
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i’d love to go on a date!
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: better even
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i was fighting demons trying not to kiss you in the car last night
Eddie has to set his phone down so he doesn’t throw it to the ground and shatter it, opting instead to fist his hands in the pillow Steve used last night and shove it in his face to scream. He has to regain his composure before he texts back, doing his best to keep cool.
[Eddie]: A date it is then. Can’t wait sweetheart ❤️
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the rest of the cast got their new song covers, so i wanted to try putting the others in a band :>
i did want to make it look a bit like an album cover but i have no idea how those are designed so eh?? i also couldn't think of any band or album/song names so. if anyone has any ideas...
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luriluth · 11 months
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Manager... What'll... happen to me...
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porunareff · 1 year
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that's it, that's their dynamic
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basoogil · 7 months
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we had to trap him in a sock because he kept trying to star the trek 💔💔💔
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kiwiplur · 1 year
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I really like @punkitt-is-here's way of drawing the pony dudes so I took one of my favorites and made it MOVE
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mice-rats-daily · 1 month
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Today's mouse is this mouse DNA stock image!
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nero-neptune · 2 months
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“Roy was the engineer, and anything related to engineering, in any specialism, would have to pass through his hands. This included assembling the plane’s radio, just like he’d fixed the small battery-operated Spika radio and made it work.
“Adolfo sat down beside him. He explained to Roy that it was not a matter of expertise in electronics but one of ignorance, and pointed out that Roy was the least ignorant of everybody in that department. Roy argued that he had never seen an airplane radio in his life, not even in a book. Adolfo put his hand over Roy’s. ‘I know that, Roy. We all know that. I only wanted to tell you that you were the best one at handling the wires and the terminals, that’s all. But right now that’s a lot, it makes a huge difference … you are the engineer.’
“Roy, almost breathless, added something that his older friend already knew: ‘I am barely in my first year in Engineering, I’m only twenty years old, and the only time I’ve ever been remotely close to anything like this was when I helped instal a damn audio system for my cousins.’
“‘And you fixed the Spika radio,’ Adolfo responded, as if it were a thermonuclear station and not a basic portable radio the size of a pack of cigarettes. Before Adolfo even said the next sentence he knew clearly that it was as painful for him to say as it was for his friend to hear it. ‘Roy, the group needs your abilities. All we’re asking is that you try.’ ”
– “Is Anybody Listening?” from Society of the Snow: The Definitive Account of the World’s Greatest Survival Story by Pablo Vierci
LA SOCIEDAD DE LA NIEVE | SOCIETY OF THE SNOW (2023) dir. J. A. Bayona
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pyroclastic727 · 5 months
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The Marvels is being scathed by critics, and that's a good thing.
I finally saw The Marvels today. I'm a bit late to the party, so all I saw about the movie was the teaser at the end of Ms Marvel, and way too many critical reviews of it.
Now, obviously on Tumblr you find the good reviews, like, the cats outnumbering the white men and how Kamala Khan is, like, basically all of us. But in person, I've had someone tell me that it's bad because Rotten Tomatoes rates it 43%, which-- besides wondering why anyone would listen to Rotten Tomatoes, I'd have to wonder why the website would give it such a low rating. The easy answer is that the Tomatoes review committee is populated by white men, who, upon having no one to relate to, react badly to the movie. But I think there's more to it.
The Marvels is a revolution. Through its character-driven writing and brazen exploration of morality, it rewrites the superhero formula completely, by questioning what exactly it means to be a superhero.
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The Marvels was directed by Nia DaCosta, an award-winning Harlem native and creative visionary whose approach to this film was to define these characters as humans, not as superheroes. Her approach to heroism directly addresses that the idea that a hero is not always right. A hero, DaCosta claims, is "someone who's trying their best with the information and tools they have at the time. They'll always get it wrong." Carol Danvers's arc directly addresses this, as the resolution of her subplot involves her re-igniting the sun that she snuffed out. Her heroic act is to undo the damage that she wrought.
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When compared to old Marvel, this message just doesn't come through. In WandaVision, Wanda's grief is for a family that was killed by the Avengers. Yet, she is painted as a villain, even as she searches for a happy home, even as she at one point joins the Avengers. The Avengers cannot undo what they did, and don't really try. They defeat the big bad, sacrifice their lives, but nothing brings back Wanda's family. Nothing undoes that war. No one searches for Wanda after the event, to try to help her with her grief, except for Monica, and she's working against orders. Their heroics are militant, but while they excel at destruction, they leave the people they hurt in the dust.
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This antiheroic plot of old Marvel is precisely what appealed to so many American audiences. Their protagonists are: a rich corporation, a super-soldier, a privileged teenager, a scientist who makes weapons, an ex-convict, a man born into godlike power, and I'm sure there are others but I don't actually care that much... (these would be iron man, captain america, peter parker spiderman, hulk, antman, thor, and etc). All these archetypes appeal to American ideals that the wealthy would sympathize with. They claim that there are people who are inherently bad and seek the power that they have, in the way that a poor person might want a job that a wealthy person wants their child to secure. They claim that it is their business to save those which cannot save themselves, and use this to get involved in wars that are not theirs, and beat up badguys whose backstory they have no way of knowing-- and they punch before they stop and listen.
They are cops in every sense of the word. The responsibility of the vigilante is to defend against evil, but part of that responsibility is to figure out who exactly is evil and who is in need of help.
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The Marvels creates a team that tries to distinguish evil from good, and delves into the grey area between them. The final battle between Carol Danvers and Dar-benn has the superhero pinning the grey-haired antagonist to the ground as she begs for, then demands, that Carol fix what she damaged. Monica urges her to listen. Through this, The Marvels argues that a hero does not always beat up the bad guy and fight against unrelenting evil, but that a hero can be wrong, and that a hero can reconsider. It's kindness in the way that is revolutionary, where it's much easier to choose cruelty.
The fact that the movie is getting torn apart by critics, then, is not just because it is a "girls movie" or it doesn't have a strong white man for the white male viewer to sympathize with. The Marvels cannot appeal to Marvel fans because it rewrites the genre itself. It takes a film series whose purpose was to depict the struggles of cops, of the wealthy, of people with too much power who are trying to learn how to responsibly wield it, but don't. And it gives that power to people who have watched superheroes try and fail, who are slowly learning to be better heroes than the ones before them.
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The next generation is a critique of the last, a group trying not to make the mistakes of the chosen ones that came before them, and as such, the movie exists to critique the movies that came before it. Therefore, a viewer of Marvel who would positively review it, due to sympathizing with the previous heroes and enjoying the power fantasy, would dislike it out of its existence being critical and contradictory to the films they like themselves.
The Marvels is not for Marvel fans-- at least, not those who saw the Avengers as purely heroes. Instead, the film reaches out to people who would have been against the old Avengers, who want a story that dismantles the unquestioned idealism of superheroes and writes about people trying to protect their communities and the people they care about.
So, let the critics complain. The MCU is shedding its roots as a pro-cop and pro-colonialism power fantasy, and evolving into an exploration of what it means to be a true hero.
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hylianane · 16 days
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Do you think. That after Sanji asked Zoro to kill him. He took a moment wonder if, had Kuina lived to adulthood, at the end of their journey, would whoever killed Mihawk would’ve have to fight to protect their title from the other? Do you think the next time they fought after Sanji’s request, Kitetsu would cut just a little too close to Sanji’s throat, because her master was too preoccupied thinking, would I have been able to do it? Kill her, if it came to that? For my dream? and later when he’s carefully wiping Sanji’s blood off his blade, do you think, that maybe he would think- the dream was hers before it was mine. Would I have felt betrayed, then, if she killed me? Or proud? Pleased? Happy?
When Sanji interrupts his thoughts to say, what the hell has got you so distracted? Or what, am I too boring for you to take seriously, do you think Zoro would glare at him in silence cause there’s no way for him to articulate that he’s never taken anything more seriously in his life.
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