Smoking Tw - Tumblr Posts
Illustration from a recent project
"You smoke?"
Tommy looked over at Schlatt. He was shaking a cigarette out of a pack and into his hand. Where he'd gotten it, Tommy didn't know. It was the afterlife; he didn't expect drugs to be in the afterlife.
"Fuckin'... no, I don't smoke," He huffed back, "What do you fuckin'..."
Schlatt shrugged, brought the cigarette to his lips, produced a lighter, and lit up. "Your loss."
Wilbur had warned Tommy that occasionally they'd fade in and out. The afterlife wasn't a concrete plane to be in, he'd said, so Tommy should prepare for him to pop in and out occasionally.
Tommy had thought he was ready. He was not.
He'd clung to the man ever since he'd died. He was the only person he had left who cared. At least, the only person he had left who cared and he could still talk to. And even if Wilbur was only going to be gone for a little bit (though time worked so strangely here, who really knew?), Tommy wasn't ready for that separation.
And he sure as hell wasn't ready to be left alone with Jschlatt.
He didn't like kids, that much was obvious. Or anyone, really.
Apparently he and Wilbur had talked quite a bit before Tommy's arrival, which Tommy couldn't blame him for; Wilbur had to talk to somebody, and until now the afterlife didn't have any options except for the previous tyrant. But the moment Schlatt had seen Tommy, palpable disgust had formed on his face and he had fled the scene.
That was fine by Tommy. He didn't like Tommy, and Tommy didn't like him.
But now that Wilbur was gone for a while, being around Schlatt was better than being alone.
Schlatt coughed after a drag. Tommy eyed him uneasily.
Schlatt didn't have scars, Tommy was noticing. Wilbur did. He had a big ugly one in his chest from where Phil had stabbed him, gaping and hard to ignore. Schlatt, having not died to something so physical, had no such thing. But his eyes looked vacant, tired, and bloodshot, and drool seemed to constantly drip down his chin. Disgusting motherfucker, Tommy thought.
It did get him thinking, though. He hadn't seen himself once since his death. When he'd asked Wilbur about his gash, Wilbur had confessed that all the injuries they'd received subsequent to their death would probably remain and hurt forever. Tommy himself had aches all over his body; Dream had done a number on him. He was left with a head that pounded almost constantly and a body that throbbed with every movement.
He wondered how he looked.
He cleared his throat and called, "Oi, bitch."
Schlatt looked to him, unimpressed. "Hm?"
"Ey, uh... so we're all a bit ghost-y now, yeah?"
"Sure."
"You gots your little... red... devil horns, 'n Wilbur's got his scar..." Tommy crossed his arms, "... What do I look like?"
Schlatt took pause, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. His lips fell to a frown as he scanned Tommy up and down, his eyes filling up with something that was almost, almost pity. Tommy's stomach sank; that didn't bode well.
Schlatt tore his eyes away from him and shook his head, gaze cast down.
Tommy swallowed nervously. "Well?"
The only thing Schlatt said after a long pause was, "Stay away from mirrors, kid."
i have a band idea for the graffiti world and they are the Lily Pads, and i made a fake album cover for it, and i hate backgrounds so much i forgot and ill post the band members finished but later because i am t i r e d
How the mercs would cuddle
Really want some soft stuff rn figured I’d share
Not really in any particular order? I just picked some mercs from the pile and put em in there.
Image from tf2gallery
Scout
Touch starved, Scout will melt into any move regarding affection possible!
He’s adamant that he thinks cuddling is gross, but you know he’s a cuddlebug when the two of you are alone.
Prefers to hug facing you while sitting in your lap, maybe leaning against something so you’re more comfortable.
If you’re taller, he’ll probably be attached to your side, arms around your torso.
If you’re shorter, his arms are around your shoulders, head leaning next to yours.
Heavy
Doesn’t mind public displays of affection, though he seems surprised at how confidently you show that he’s your s/o or platonic friend-
Normally when the two of you are together, he has you wrapped up in a bear hug with you resting on his chest.
Other times, if you’re somewhere like a couch, you’ll sandwich yourself between him and the back as if he’s a wall of safety.
But most of all, Heavy prefers to be held. Even if he’s the bigger guy, he’s the little spoon and it shows. He’s always afraid of crushing you in his grip, and he’s always been the mother hen type. Having you there to be his emotional support means the world to him.
Demoman
Being so broad shouldered means hugging can be an issue at times. When cuddling, the two of you tend to be in a sort of sideways position around each other, curled up like cats. The other mercenaries find it hilarious, especially when Demo is drunk and unable to realize he’s even with somebody, holding you to his chest while you just lay there smiling, content.
He is. A sweetheart when it comes to that kind of thing. When he’s more sober, which isn’t very often, he’s much closer and tries to make the best of remembering the moment.
Spy
Being the most well versed in the world of romance, one would think that Spy would be a cuddler. He’s not.
He’s great with giving out compliments, whispering them in your ear as he brings you closer into his arms, but the second you approach him and he isn’t expecting it, he freezes up quicker than lightning.
“Mon cher, what is it you are doing?”
He’s completely flabbergasted by the idea of just. Sitting, and relaxing next to another person? He much prefers to be alone, but you manage to convince him to try after an unbelievable amount of effort.
At first, it started with him sitting, unsure next to you with you leaning into his side, or maybe with your arm wrapped around his shoulder and your head nestled into the crook of his neck.
Eventually he warms up to it, returning the gesture of having one arm around your shoulders and ith the other hand preoccupied with a book, a cigarette or a glass of wine.
After a particularly long battle, disheveled and ready to throw something, he realized just how helpful having somebody there with him turned out to be. No need for any fancy rituals, just being in each other’s company. He’s drooped over in your arms, hung over your shoulder sideways and exhaustedly bringing you both into a laying position, just so you can both talk without the effort of sitting up.
Medic
Medic is a busy man, constantly moving about in the infirmary attending to his latest inventions or tending to his beloved doves.
He hates when he has no say in something, which is why you have to convince him to step away from his projects after two days without sleep by being there with him for practically every second.
He’s the big spoon, no questions asked. It gives him the feeling of having control over a situation, having you in his arms and close to his chest.
Around the base, particularly if waiting for an early morning mission to begin, he loves it when he can use somebody’s lap as a pillow, meaning yours are the first choice.
When he truly cannot step away from his work, you can probably try sitting in his lap. He likely finds it cute, but he’s very absorbed in his experiments. This means he’s on autopilot and might slice you a few times when reaching over to make an incision, so it’s a risky move for both parties.
Sometimes in the evenings while doing paperwork, when warm orange sunlight filters through the window and onto the desk, he can be found conked out in his office chair, with you in his arms, facing against his chest. When this happens, the doves join in, tucked beneath your neck, on his shoulders, on the seat by your legs, some are even brave enough to quietly nest in your hair. You both deny it happened when scout walked in on the sight while looking for a bandaid.
Sniper
Much like Scout, Sniper is hopelessly touch starved and any affection sends him into overdrive.
Prefers to sit straddling your hips, he’s got long, long legs and is NOT afraid to use them.
Speaking of legs, your cuddling positions can get a bit crazy at times. Considering the fact they can fold entirely across your back, his hugs are more like a trap than an actual method of snuggling up to each other.
When lying down, it’s easier for you to lie on his chest than anywhere beside him thanks to how long his limbs are, but you both don’t mind.
Even just sitting beside each other, Sniper practically melts. Hug? He’s jello. Pet his hair? Cries.
The way he holds you isn’t just for his own comfort though. He’d sacrifice it to see you happy in his arms. No, it’s because in the end, he always has to have one eye open and is therefore rather protective of you.
It’s a sort of defense mechanism, really. If you can’t move away, nobody can try and take you or steal you either. He’s too embarrassed to admit it though, or maybe he just doesn’t know how.
Either way, seeing you safe and sound in his arms is enough.
Not doing all the mercs, but if you want to see the others let me know! It’s just getting late and I need to sleep, also don’t really have many ideas for the other mercs hhh-
SHRIEKS OVER HOW GREAT THE RED THE BLU AND THE UGLY IS????
The animation is superb. I cannot WAIT to use some of these for headcanon posts ya’ll- my lil animation loving heart melted at all of it- every single frame is just. amazing.
Feel free to send asks relating to the characters i make gifs of, or others, either way I love seeing new ones even though I might not ever get around to em- its really a matter of time because it just relies on motivation and what I’m inspired by mostly.
More Spy gifs from The Red, the Blu, and the Ugly!
Me, sending out loud shouts telepathically through the computer screen: Please please pretty please keep sending headcanon prompts I have lots of really good ones but don’t mind me I am going to continue hoarding them like a dragon to treasure-
Psst...@cassthepilot
I drew Cass as a warmup doodle turned cleaner(?) sketch! I hope I got her design right, I know that some parts look a bit wonky. ;^^
Either way, *slides this over to you.* 💖✨
WARNING! Smoking involved!
Day 15 of #stevinel shipping month - flavor.
I'm halfway through my first challenge. So far not so bad.
Got the idea of flavor of cigarettes, vanilla coffee and cherry lipstick. And it turned out as some kind of an AU. Also Steven looks a bit different from my style (if i even have a style...). and I don't know how it happened. But I like it. Hope you like it too.
Have a good day!
Maybe she was too soft-skinned or however the phrase went, or her contempt for dressing appropriately for the weather was biting her in the ass. But who gave a fuck about people who valued practicality over fashion? But still, she stared at Leo indecorously when they affirmed it wasn’t that cold. At least, she thought that was the name given to her in the bathroom, because of Di Caprio. And the star sign.
She was about to give him shit for not really feeling the cold out here when the next sentence had her mouth fall open. “You stole it from the bar?” She repeated, like she didn’t hear him correctly, but then thought about that bitch of a bartender she had made quick enemies with and shrugged, thinking about how the stolen bottle might come out of her paycheck. “Fuck it.” And she took a rather celebratory swig, though her new found attitude did nothing to diminish the burning in the back of her throat. Madi shook her head at the cigarette offer. “No thank you, I don’t touch that shit.” Alcohol fine, the occasional line or pill — very LA. But nothing that could potentially damage her lungs like that. “Iunno, home? It’s just like, not hitting back in there.” And she felt old and they seemed a bit younger so it felt like, a bummer to make such an obvious point.
Leo hadn’t noticed the drop in temperature since he’d arrived at Aurora earlier, even when Madisyn begrudgingly pointed it out to him. All he’d wanted in that moment was some fresh air and a familiar face, even if her’s was a new one added to his arsenal of comrades. She’d been funny and blunt in a way that was so refreshing to Leo, he couldn’t help but compare her to a cold glass of water. Shocking if unexpected, but so to-your-core satisfying when needed. If he could steal more of her time, he’d take it. “It’s not.” Leo insisted, like he could change her mind with the power of an unwanted opinion. “Or - I mean, yeah, I guess it is a bit. I’m kinda too drunk to notice.” A grin appeared as he spoke, happy that she’d humoured him and taken a gulp of the tequila, even if she didn’t seem too pleased about it.
A chill ran down his spine, making him eat his previous words. Going from living in the swampy heat of the deep South to the brisk cold of New York Winters had constantly left Leo’s body confused on what would be considered homeostasis, but he lit a smoke quickly - he’d always been convinced they warmed you up when you needed it most. “I stole it from the bar.” He quipped, as if he were explaining something as simple as the sky being blue - or whether it was cold out or not. “It tastes better stolen. A real scavenger’s feast, y’know?” Despite hyping up his winnings, Leo still pulled a face when he finally helped himself to the tequila. He almost felt bad about offering it up to her - quickly, he held out his cigarette to her, a new offering to share as a silent apology. “Where’re you going? It’s early.” She was the kind of pretty that demanded to be noticed, and Leo had done just that. He didn’t want her to go yet if she didn’t have to.
Maybe she was too soft-skinned or however the phrase went, or her contempt for dressing appropriately for the weather was biting her in the ass. But who gave a fuck about people who valued practicality over fashion? But still, she stared at Leo indecorously when they affirmed it wasn’t that cold. At least, she thought that was the name given to her in the bathroom, because of Di Caprio. And the star sign.
She was about to give him shit for not really feeling the cold out here when the next sentence had her mouth fall open. “You stole it from the bar?” She repeated, like she didn’t hear him correctly, but then thought about that bitch of a bartender she had made quick enemies with and shrugged, thinking about how the stolen bottle might come out of her paycheck. “Fuck it.” And she took a rather celebratory swig, though her new found attitude did nothing to diminish the burning in the back of her throat. Madi shook her head at the cigarette offer. “No thank you, I don’t touch that shit.” Alcohol fine, the occasional line or pill — very LA. But nothing that could potentially damage her lungs like that. “Iunno, home? It’s just like, not hitting back in there.” And she felt old and they seemed a bit younger so it felt like, a bummer to make such an obvious point.
Leo hadn’t noticed the drop in temperature since he’d arrived at Aurora earlier, even when Madisyn begrudgingly pointed it out to him. All he’d wanted in that moment was some fresh air and a familiar face, even if her’s was a new one added to his arsenal of comrades. She’d been funny and blunt in a way that was so refreshing to Leo, he couldn’t help but compare her to a cold glass of water. Shocking if unexpected, but so to-your-core satisfying when needed. If he could steal more of her time, he’d take it. “It’s not.” Leo insisted, like he could change her mind with the power of an unwanted opinion. “Or - I mean, yeah, I guess it is a bit. I’m kinda too drunk to notice.” A grin appeared as he spoke, happy that she’d humoured him and taken a gulp of the tequila, even if she didn’t seem too pleased about it.
A chill ran down his spine, making him eat his previous words. Going from living in the swampy heat of the deep South to the brisk cold of New York Winters had constantly left Leo’s body confused on what would be considered homeostasis, but he lit a smoke quickly - he’d always been convinced they warmed you up when you needed it most. “I stole it from the bar.” He quipped, as if he were explaining something as simple as the sky being blue - or whether it was cold out or not. “It tastes better stolen. A real scavenger’s feast, y’know?” Despite hyping up his winnings, Leo still pulled a face when he finally helped himself to the tequila. He almost felt bad about offering it up to her - quickly, he held out his cigarette to her, a new offering to share as a silent apology. “Where’re you going? It’s early.” She was the kind of pretty that demanded to be noticed, and Leo had done just that. He didn’t want her to go yet if she didn’t have to.
There was one thing that Madisyn learned since moving to this town. That the natives of Blue Harbor, Illinois were selfish, and looked after their own. To anyone else, her declaring the night being over for her would have resulted in a brisk goodbye — if even that — and left her abandoned in the street as she waited in the cold for an Uber driver to finally accept her ride (and it wasn’t like it was her fault she only had two stars on the system; she consistently had insane drivers who were trying to kill her!). But this guy, he didn’t budge, didn’t say anything judgemental, even if his offer was mildly concerning.
Madisyn was suddenly reminded of Dominik. And her heart ached. Not for some long-lost love, or for years she’d never get back. But for the good times, before the bad. When things were still new and fresh, when there was a risk to their collaborations both online and off.
Madisyn missed being the center of attention, missed having someone take time to bask in her glow; even if it was an offer to walk back to their place with a stolen bottle of tequila. “Knowing my luck, the only time I’d end up on TV proper would be Dateline.” She mused, watching as Leo walked on, biting her lip as she considered the pros and cons.
Pros; he was good looking, and he had an air of danger to him. Cons; potential murderer, and clearly had a habit of stealing
Good thing they weren’t heading to the farm, lest her llamas be at risk.
Madisyn walked briskly to meet him, snatching the bottle from their grasp and taking another slug. “I feel like the bartender is out to get me, so even if you are some creepy weirdo murderer, I’m not giving that bitch the satisfaction of getting to me first.”
Observing Madi closely, Leo tried to gauge if he would make the cut or not. If he was worthy of her time, or if she would fuck off and head home like he suspected she was trying to do. She seemed to be doing the same - glancing between him and the bottle, questioning whether she was happy or disturbed by this information. Leo was pleased when she seemed to be as well, leaning against the wall with a grin as he watched her take another sip.
“Yeah - I mean, they were taking forever. I was making their lives easier, if you think about it. One less person to serve, moving the crowd along. I think it should count towards my community service, frankly.” Nodding in understanding - though he actually was a bit surprised she didn’t smoke - they placed the smoke back between their lips, watching her ponder over going home. Just as they suspected, though it felt like a waste of a night. It was still early, and Leo thought she was interesting. She clearly wasn’t from town, and that gave her an air of mystery - it was fun. She was fun, and she didn’t even have to try, merely showed off some of her attitude and presented herself in a way so refreshing that Leo was too intrigued to say goodnight. “Well. Alright - I don’t live far from here, though. And I did just steal this bottle, which I could probably drink on my own, but I feel like that’d end… so badly. I’m just one guy - who loves his liquor but that’s excessive, even for me.” Pushing off the wall he was leaning against, Leo walked past Madi, turning so that he could walk backwards and call after her, still attempting to tempt her to trust him. “I’ve also never murdered anyone before, and I have a cat. If that gives me bonus points.”
There was one thing that Madisyn learned since moving to this town. That the natives of Blue Harbor, Illinois were selfish, and looked after their own. To anyone else, her declaring the night being over for her would have resulted in a brisk goodbye — if even that — and left her abandoned in the street as she waited in the cold for an Uber driver to finally accept her ride (and it wasn’t like it was her fault she only had two stars on the system; she consistently had insane drivers who were trying to kill her!). But this guy, he didn’t budge, didn’t say anything judgemental, even if his offer was mildly concerning.
Madisyn was suddenly reminded of Dominik. And her heart ached. Not for some long-lost love, or for years she’d never get back. But for the good times, before the bad. When things were still new and fresh, when there was a risk to their collaborations both online and off.
Madisyn missed being the center of attention, missed having someone take time to bask in her glow; even if it was an offer to walk back to their place with a stolen bottle of tequila. “Knowing my luck, the only time I’d end up on TV proper would be Dateline.” She mused, watching as Leo walked on, biting her lip as she considered the pros and cons.
Pros; he was good looking, and he had an air of danger to him. Cons; potential murderer, and clearly had a habit of stealing
Good thing they weren’t heading to the farm, lest her llamas be at risk.
Madisyn walked briskly to meet him, snatching the bottle from their grasp and taking another slug. “I feel like the bartender is out to get me, so even if you are some creepy weirdo murderer, I’m not giving that bitch the satisfaction of getting to me first.”
Observing Madi closely, Leo tried to gauge if he would make the cut or not. If he was worthy of her time, or if she would fuck off and head home like he suspected she was trying to do. She seemed to be doing the same - glancing between him and the bottle, questioning whether she was happy or disturbed by this information. Leo was pleased when she seemed to be as well, leaning against the wall with a grin as he watched her take another sip.
“Yeah - I mean, they were taking forever. I was making their lives easier, if you think about it. One less person to serve, moving the crowd along. I think it should count towards my community service, frankly.” Nodding in understanding - though he actually was a bit surprised she didn’t smoke - they placed the smoke back between their lips, watching her ponder over going home. Just as they suspected, though it felt like a waste of a night. It was still early, and Leo thought she was interesting. She clearly wasn’t from town, and that gave her an air of mystery - it was fun. She was fun, and she didn’t even have to try, merely showed off some of her attitude and presented herself in a way so refreshing that Leo was too intrigued to say goodnight. “Well. Alright - I don’t live far from here, though. And I did just steal this bottle, which I could probably drink on my own, but I feel like that’d end… so badly. I’m just one guy - who loves his liquor but that’s excessive, even for me.” Pushing off the wall he was leaning against, Leo walked past Madi, turning so that he could walk backwards and call after her, still attempting to tempt her to trust him. “I’ve also never murdered anyone before, and I have a cat. If that gives me bonus points.”
Sybbie smiled, and held out the unlit cigarette in Barrow's direction, if her Da caught her smoking he'd be fit to be tied, but Barrow had always had a soft spot for her and George, he wouldn't give her away.
"What Da and Lucy don't know won't kill them, come on, Barrow. I'm not a little girl anymore. Smoke with me." She also wanted to hear all about Hollywood, she had missed the former butler while he'd been away. Thank God Mr. Dexter had brought him back to England, and thank God Aunt Mary had insisted he stay at Downton.
"You've been away a long time."
“ i don’t care a fig about rules . ” (From Miss Sybbie because I love how much he cares about her)
a short amused huff escaped the butler as the corners of his lips twitched upwards. a small, private smile. he bowed his head slightly to hide it, but it was undeniably there.
of course she wouldn't care for the rules. rebellion was in her blood, she'd inherited that from both sides of the family — an irish socialist father, a chauffeur, and a fiercy ambitious mother, the daughter of an earl. a match itself that broke the rules of high society.
god, she was so much like her mother. thomas liked that about her.
❝ I know. but some rules are there for a reason, miss sybbie. ❞
downton abbey sentence starters .
@flashbacksech0es
"I cannot imagine you ever being that way, you're a good man, and I have missed you since you went away to America." Sybbie blew out a puff of smoke and turned back to Barrow.
"I think if she was still alive, my mama would count herself lucky to be your friend... and I hope you have found happiness in America, even though it's so far away."
"I don't understand, why would anyone be cruel to you?" Sybbie said, Barrow had always been nothing but good to her, she found Mr. Barrow to be the best kind of person. Kind and gentle, he'd played with Sybbie and her cousins as children and now that Sybbie was grown she still found him to be a good person.
"I know I'm not her, but for what it's worth. You've always been a good friend to me."
to her surprise, he puts the cigarette away. an act which earns him a singular point in her in-mind rating system. " you know, i don't really like to tell people what to do, " a major lie, she loves it, " but you should really quit. are you aware of how much smoking can age a person ? hello, who wants premature wrinkles ? no one sane, that's who. " noa doesn't realize how she sounds sometimes. in her head she's saying it for his own benefit, unaware that it may come across rather rude. " oh, so you'd come in, we'd do an intensive questionnaire, then my brain does the rest. it knows a good match when it sees one. "
leon looks up from the cigarette on his lips that he's about to light, the other's reaction startling him. "okay," he shrugs and puts the cigarette back in the pack. "i smoke too much anyway," the blond confesses. if this woman wasn't talking shit and was an actual and real matchmaker, maybe it could be fun to try new things. "you're so very right," leon nods his head at the mention of attracting the wrong people. the music industry is pretty fucked up, you are either lucky or have to know how to set boundaries really well. the man is a mix of both. "how does it work tho?" he asks. "do i give you an interview or something?"
