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#hol up
thepromiscuousfinger · 10 months
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hawkp · 8 months
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Hawkeye Pierce when the horrors of war:
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mirkwoodmunson · 1 year
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Would you pretty please turn this picture into an Eddie munson fanfiction? I've been searching the Internet and have yet to find anything like this. If you not comfortable, I totally understand!!
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me: writing break!
mailbox: 🫶
me: …..umm ANYWAY *frantic typing*
I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH U HAVE NO IDEA
tw: cursing, angst, panic/anxiety attack, dissociation, night terrors, depressed/anxious reader, post-v2 (fixit)
it takes a long time for your nights to go back to a state of semi-normalcy. a long time of regaining the ability to lay in bed comfortable and calm and eager for sleep, a long time of healing and bandages and pained tears, a long time of struggling for the smallest crumbs of comfort. but you had each other, and that made it easier of course — but it was still an uphill battle for those first few months. there was a lot of heartache, a lot of tears and strain, but far be it from eddie and you to let the darkness come out on top. you were both fighters, and when the battle got too rough for one of you, the other always managed to gather enough strength to keep the both of you pushing, moving forward. persevering.
when the darkness got the better of you, eddie was there to blind it with his brilliance.
nights… you’d come to dread them. during the day the sun could blot out your thoughts, soothe worries with its warmth, and you had things to do and places to go and people to see; the day didn’t give you the time to worry. but when night fell, when it was just you and eddie and the quiet — not that you didn’t enjoy those things, but with the night and the quiet, and the memories you and eddie now shared… nights were still sometimes difficult.
the thing is, eddie doesn’t remember that night. he doesn’t remember anything after the bats.
but you do.
you remember, and you’ve had to watch it again, and again — at first it was every time you tried to sleep, then just when you slept at night, but always sleeping during the day became a problem. then after a while, after nights started to feel somewhat tolerable, it was every other night. every few nights. you were down to once every few weeks now, but even then, the idea of just trying to get some rest had become so stressful it was just a frustrating cycle of exhaustion at this point.
and how could you bother eddie with this? he knew, but you didn’t complain beyond the initial waking up from the dreams. sure he didn’t remember that night, but he still remembered facing the bats. he still had to go through the stint in the hospital, recovery at home. you were both dealing with your individual traumas. he always assured you you were allowed to feel it too, you didn’t need to act tough around him — you’d become so quiet. so tired. he would always tell you the way through was together, that he had your back. but you still felt like it would burden him. far be it from you to be a burden.
really though, there’s only so many times you can say you’re okay when you’re not before it becomes too much to handle alone.
tonight it takes you by surprise. tonight you fall asleep in eddie’s arms, but you wake up and, you’re there. you’re in the wasteland that is the upside down and you’re running but you can’t run fast enough and there’s not enough air in your lungs. the red flashes are too bright, too disorienting, you can just barely make out the swarm.
when they suddenly drop from the air, you see the body they surround and you drop too. it’s too much, too heavy, too real — the little air you have rips from your lungs and you crawl to him, you know you can save him if you just go fast enough but you can’t move any faster, no matter how hard you scream you can’t get to him any quicker, like you’re pulling yourself through drying concrete. you hear dustin crying.
you reach, so hard your muscles pull and you cry, and you grab his vest and drag yourselves together, gripping him tight light you’re about to be pulled away from him again. you try and talk him awake but your lips move slow too, it’s muffled in your ears like you’re underwater, clogged and distant. if you’re loud enough, cry hard enough, scream loud enough, maybe he’ll wake up. your foreheads are pressed together as you beg for him to wake the fuck up —
“please wake up please wake up please wake up,” his eyes snap open and he holds your face, talking to you quickly, quietly, murmuring a pleading song.
you feel like you’re being pulled up through water.
you wheeze deep and suddenly breach the surface, gasping wildly into a dark space, but that voice remains and keeps guiding you from the murky depths; it’s soft, always soft — calling to you with a tender earnestness.
“i’m here. i’m here — you’re safe; you’re awake.”
you start to wail, and eddie leans over to turn on the lamp before pulling you into his lap, into his arms, careful but quick. he tries not to waver, not to show how startled he is — but he can’t help the tremble in the way that he holds you, the break in his voice.
“it’s okay, y/n it’s okay — i promise. you’re not there. you’re home. i’m here.”
“i-i-i — fine — i’m fine — i’m fine,” it almost hurts to speak, takes effort between the deep breaths and hiccups and sobs. eddie leans you away a bit, pushes damp hair from your cheeks and cups them in warm calloused hands that are firm but loving, urging you to look at him.
through the tears you see his eyes are wide but tired, concerned and sad and alarmed, when you try to look away he holds you still, shaking his head firmly.
“no. no sweetheart you’re not okay.”
he looks at you a moment longer before pulling you back into him as you shudder, quaking with the force of it, gripping his shirt tight to ground yourself as you weep into his shoulder.
eddie shushes you softly, holds you so tight his arms tremble and hides his face in your hair.
“i’m here. you’re safe. i’ve got you. i promise.”
“wh-what about you??”
“i’m safe too, baby. we’re safe. we’re home.”
one of his hands slides around one of yours, soothes it open to release his shirt and then guides it down to the bedsheets.
“feel our bed? the sheets?”
he takes your quieting cries as a ‘yes,’ and smiles small, kissing your temple. you’re starting to focus on him, on your surroundings.
“feel my shirt? an’ my arms?”
you nod, running your thumb over the faded black fabric held tight in your fist, full of holes and tears. you’d got it for eddie when he took you to see judas priest, the metal conqueror tour. you guys hadn’t started dating yet. some dude spilt beer on you and shouted at you for the audacity, eddie had punched him in the face, and then you’d started dating.
“hey! there’s a smile!” eddie peers down at you with a smile of his own, and you sniffle but hold it for him through the stubborn tears. “there you go. where’d that come from?”
“you,” you respond simply, tearfully.
eddie laughs softly and pulls you in again, rocking you in his arms, muttering gentle affirmations.
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ventablxck · 1 year
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My friends requested I draw Wally without his hair (BALD) and another with the Black Hat eyebrows this happened lol
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OH GOD DO NOT DRAW WALLY WITH TEETH DO NOT DRAW WALLY WITH TEETY AUGGH
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cokowiii · 7 months
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All of us sillies in the server rn:
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Me rn
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glitzybunny · 1 year
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Assorted Magma Session Doodles Part 1
ifkjgdldsfgsdbfgkl I have too many
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phobiasoflife · 7 months
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Why is nobody talking about the fact that this happened in the rottmnt movie:
Casy Jr: In the future an alien race desamated the earth, we were hunted, we had to live in caves and eat leaves and rats - no offense
Splinter: None taken. We are delicious.
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ninjasrock · 11 months
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I HAVE A QUESTION. why does pythor look like that? We've seen the other Anacondri and they don't look like pythor. Maybe it's because all the Anacondri have tails and with most serpentine they earn a tail once becoming a chief, so maybe the Anacondri get longer necks? Idk but that's just a theory A LEGO THEORY. thanks for reading. BUT THERES ANOTHER QUESTION! what does the P stand for in Pythor P Chumsworth.
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skelezux · 1 year
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I’ve been rotating a mlb idol au in my head for some weeks now and also obssesed with stray kids so,
I wanted to draw something stray kids but since I’m incapable of drawing real people, miraculous characters with stray kids outfits it is
The outfit choice gets increasingly worse but dw about it
Also I refuse to subscribe to egg Nino agenda
(the poses are also vaguely from stray kids pictures)
if you saw me forgetting Nino’s glasses no you didn’t
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internationalgamer · 2 months
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Hol up what the.... ☠️☠️☠️
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oswaldskovich · 2 months
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Moral of the story. NEVER pause an Oswald short. I can see Disney and Universal have kept the tradition lmao. (1930 short Henpecked.)
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unamusedyams · 1 year
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I think my circle of followers who don't play/know tgaa is small, but I sometimes wonder what they think when I tag spoilers and it's literally just two characters standing next to each other saying "dickballs"
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artaintfartwarriors · 10 months
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aceakutagawafan · 4 months
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Poor little victorian boy... I sure hope he isn't doomed by the narrative...
Based off of this shirt 🤸 (Sorta) (just a lot less fancy)
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torse · 1 year
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more after the cut
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augredemesjours · 6 months
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