President Howard Goodman - Tumblr Posts
A conversation between my mother and sister
Some President Howard Goodman in celebration of Black Friday’s anniversary yesterday!
Inspired by JFK’s Official Portrait
Curt Mega and His Inability To Keep The People He Cares About From Dying ™
“John? John I think I fucked it up again.”
And for a moment- a horrible, sickening, stomach churning moment- John was taken back to another time, to another place. He was too late back then as well. He had promised himself he wouldn’t find himself being too late again, not after losing one of the most important men he had ever met. Not after his world ended the first time. It looks like John couldn’t keep his promise to the himself, nor his promise to his partner, nor his promise to the president. And they were all going to pay for it evidently.
He moves forward more quickly than his brain could comprehend. He caught President Goodman- Howard, John reminded himself, he preferred to be called Howard- before the man hit the approximation of what could be called the floor. John didn’t even notice when the green tentacle slithered away, couldn’t possibly pull his attention away from Howard long enough to remember that the man who used to be Wilbur Cross was still there, just a few feet away.
There was a ringing in John’s ear, as if a bomb had gone off. He felt his hands trembling, though that may be Howard quivering with the pain, or fear, or cold, or perhaps all three at once. There was also the feeling of a warm wetness in his lap as he held Howard, he knew exactly what that was but chose not to acknowledge it to himself. He could see his world going blurry with the wetness of tears. A metallic smell John knew all too well started to drift through the air. It was all a distinct reminder that he was still alive even as his world felt as if it was ending all over again.
“John? John I think I fucked it up again.”
And for a moment- a horrible, sickening, stomach churning moment- John was taken back to another time, to another place. He was too late back then as well. He had promised himself he wouldn’t find himself being too late again, not after losing one of the most important men he had ever met. Not after his world ended the first time. It looks like John couldn’t keep his promise to the himself, nor his promise to his partner, nor his promise to the president. And they were all going to pay for it evidently.
He moves forward more quickly than his brain could comprehend. He caught President Goodman- Howard, John reminded himself, he preferred to be called Howard- before the man hit the approximation of what could be called the floor. John didn’t even notice when the green tentacle slithered away, couldn’t possibly pull his attention away from Howard long enough to remember that the man who used to be Wilbur Cross was still there, just a few feet away.
There was a ringing in John’s ear, as if a bomb had gone off. He felt his hands trembling, though that may be Howard quivering with the pain, or fear, or cold, or perhaps all three at once. There was also the feeling of a warm wetness in his lap as he held Howard, he knew exactly what that was but chose not to acknowledge it to himself. He could see his world going blurry with the wetness of tears. A metallic smell John knew all too well started to drift through the air. It was all a distinct reminder that he was still alive even as his world felt as if it was ending all over again.
@frankpricely
ok. so. i still stand by john/howard/wilbur. i do!
BUT
this picture. gives me thoughts.
unfortunately it is tired and thoughts are jumbled but i will add to this in morning dw. i have plans for them.
Curt Wilbur Cross and Joey Howard Goodman
leaves
so cunty
Idk the president is kinda cunty in my style..he’s eating..
I don’t care for how I drew Jeff here I’m so sorry it’s horrible 💀