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#>he died u know??
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thinking about the possibility of belos ending up in the inbetween realm after being stomped and finally getting what he deserves... 
[ ID: A digitally illustrated comic mainly featuring Philip Wittebane from The Owl House. The first panel on the first page is a birds eye view of the inbetween realm, with cubes floating everywhere and a slight disturbance in the water below. The second panel is a close up of that disturbance, which looks to be a whirlpool of some sorts. The third panel follows that, and Philip’s hand is shown forming on the water, with a ““splat” beside it. The fourth panel is a behind view of Philip kneeled over, head to the ground and face obscured. He is in his human form, like how he is seen in Elsewhere and Elsewhen, and is breathing heavily. The fifth panel is still of Philip kneeling, except he has popped up his head and is looking around. He asks, “What is this�� but is then promptly cut off by the next panel, which shows a grimwalker hand rising out from the water with a splash. He looks at this with a confused look.
The first panel on the second page is a close up of Philip’s face, a concerned and fearful expression on his face. He blurts out the word “No”. The second panel is spliced into three pieces, and each shows more dead grimwalkers rising from the water. The first shows another hand, the second a fully formed grimwalker with a broken mask crawling towards and reaching out to Philip, and the third yet another hand. The third panel is of Philip trying to back away by crawling while more grimwalker hands shoot up around him. He shouts at them, “G-Get Away!” The fourth panel is a view of Philip crawling back from behind, and a head of a grimwalker can be seen behind him. He yells again, saying, “I said-” but is cut off by the fifth panel where the grimwalker behind him suddenly grabs his arm. The sixth panel is of him looking over his shoulder, surprised. The seventh panel is an above shot of Philip sitting on the water, grinwalkers surrounding him and grabbing each of his limbs. The water swirls below him in a whirlpool motion. He shouts, “Get off me!! Go!!” The eighth panel is a closeup shot of an arm grabbing his shoe and pulling him down, the ninth panel showing the fear in his eyes.
The first panel on the third page is a wide shot of Philip being dragged down under the water, his arm straight up desperately trying to grab something. The water cascades around him, pushing him down even more. The second panel is a closeup of Caleb’s eyes, which are glaring with anger. The third panel is a below view of Philip being dragged down, with Caleb’s hand still tightly grasped around his foot. The fourth panel is a closeup of Philip’s eyes, which are staring in fear. The fifth panel is from Philip’s POV, where Caleb is seen still pulling him down by his ankle, glaring at him. Other grimwalkers are beside him, hands reaching up towards Philip to also help drag him down.
The first panel on the fourth and last page is of Philip being dragged down, a fearful and almost angry expression on his face. He screams, “Caleb! Let-” but does not finish his sentence. The second panel is of Caleb still glaring at him, not saying a word. The third panel is Philip looking at his brother with an unreadable expression on his face, as though he just realized something. The fourth panel is an above shot of Philip finally being dragged down into the depths Dr. Falcilier style, arm out stretched and he sinks. Broken masks of grimwalkers can be seen below him, pulling him down too. The last panel shows the surface of the water in the inbetweens realm, the surface still and finally tranquil. The word “Fin” is written at the bottom of the page. End ID. ]
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getousatoruu · 1 month
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BOY MOM GOJO SO CANON
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twinstxrs · 1 month
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so much happened in this whole episode but i’m still on fig infiltrating ruben’s dream, making it look like the place where his friend was murdered, and then disguising herself as kipperlilly & repeatedly saying different variants of “somebody needs to take the fall for this, and it’s not going to be me. it’s going to be you.” while adaine as the elven oracle shows up next to her. can you imagine waking up from that, the idea of a horrible truth being pinned on you by your friend to save her own skin while the personification of fate and destiny stands there, almost as a promise that this is GOING to happen to you. we don’t even know if this kid is guilty. my god.
#fantasy high#dimension 20#fhjy#fhjy spoilers#fantasy high junior year#fig faeth#ruben hopclap#lucy frostblade#the rat grinders#adaine abernant#kipperlilly copperkettle#watching fig terrorize him like girl!!! we don’t even know if he’s guilty!!!!#this might just be for me but i do not think 5 teenagers willingly brutally killed their friend idk#like there just has to be some other element to it and i am very scared to find out what that was#what if they were put in a position where they felt there was/there was no other choice… like oh my god#my comedy brain is having fun but my ‘this is a teenager’ brain is in such deep distress all the time this season#the rat grinders i trust brennan to not make u cartoonishly evil so i am holding u as gently as i can in my confused shaky hands#also with the devil’s nectar i’ve been wondering why they all seem so well-adjusted & now i’m curious if they’ve been intentionally-#changing their memories in a way so that either the trauma is lesser or they think they aren’t guilty. idk#but it seems like from how gertie was talking she was making it more recently so the well adjustedness from early jy doesn’t quite add up#they could have another source maybe??? idk i’m just low stakes 4 a.m. spitballing here#there’s also the strong possibility that they’re aware of what happened but they weren’t the ones who killed lucy. idk who knows#the way you could probably devil’s nectar yourself into believing it wasn’t your fault someone died… CRAZY IMPLICATIONS!!! CRAZY IDEA!!!#anyways the bad kids & the rat grinders don’t ever have to like each other but i do wonder if at least some of those kids deserve a chance
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sorry
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stevebabey · 1 year
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part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")
So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.
Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.
Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.
So, it’s an Eddie thing.
But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.
Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.
Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.
And this thing with Eddie… is not that.
So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.
(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)
And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve notices though. He always notices.
It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.
It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.
Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.
But he can’t fucking tell.
-
To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.
Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.
Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.
Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.
It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.
So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.
Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.
But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.
A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.
After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.
But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.
It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.
So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.
It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…
Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.
And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.
Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.
Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.
It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.
“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”
He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”
Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.
“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”
Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.
Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.
“Mm?”
“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.
But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.
Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.
“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—
Unless…?
“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!
“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.
“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.
“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.
Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.
Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.
Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.
Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.
“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.
“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”
There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.
“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.
“Do you want to try again?”
Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.
Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”
‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.
It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.
And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.
It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.
“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.
“Can I... have a hickie?”
now with a part three !
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ruporas · 1 year
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i’ll find you again in every universe. let us be a little more honest, let us have a little more time.
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#despite it all though badlands rumble is like. the only universe where we get wolfwood thinking vash died first... and i think that means a#lot to their relationship and how it may bloom if there was more to badlands rumble considering vash literally saw wolfwood carrying a piece#of vash after his supposed death. u know! despite the short time they were together vash still meant so much to wolfwood that he couldn't#just move on or forget him in anyway. needed to keep a piece of him for himself and the rest of his days. but ofc vash lives and wolfwood#was like ill beat ur fucking ass into tomorrow. there's just so much honesty in vash being able to see that gesture bc he wouldnt know#otherwise just how much he might mean to him. ANYWAY. trimax with with the eternal pining featuring the two chapters where imo#where the both of them really fell for each other... i wrote my thoughts about this on another comic i did before#but vash solidifying his feelings during the hospital arc -- ww solidifies his when he realizes his allegiances are permanently with vash#98 my lovelies but also to me they are so one-sided bc ww pined like no tomorrow and vash only realizes after ep 23?24? his heart did tickle#whenever ww complimented his smile though#and tristamp vw my beloveds. it really just feels like they get the  chance to be closer and closer and more honest with each other#with every version that comes about. in trimax they knew how little time they had but struggled so desperately to get closer. in 98 ww felt#more willing to forsake for vash. in badlands rumble theyre Angry but as mentioned earlier ^ more blatant truth... due to circumstances#mainly but has the chance to lead to discussions and tristamp literally. first day of knowing each other ww saves vash - 2 days later vash#saves ww like. Man. AND NOW THEY MAY POTENTIALLY GET EVEN CLOSER!!!! with s2....#ruporas art
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turtleblogatlast · 2 months
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Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rise leo#plot twist he COULD be admitting angsty stuff but he’s pushing the less oof truths forward instead on purpose#raph: hey leo what do you want for dinner#leo: *about to bare his soul on all his internal torment but pivots* I’m afraid of snakes#(no but fr Leo’s stripes being technically more pink instead of red is cute ngl)#(a very reddish pink to the point that in certain lighting it looks red but at the base they’re p pink)#(i also am very fond of the idea that Leo doesn’t just have questionable taste in fashion he also just loves Raph a lot and looks up to him)#but yeah I think that something like this would be 99% Leo admitting to unimportant things or admitting to how much he values everyone#like they all KNOW Leo loves them and he’s talked them up enough for them to know but it’s different when he’s like#‘I just wanna read my comics with you guys around - it’s my favorite place to be’#or again just random bs that doesn’t REALLY have a lot of weight like#‘I like using my portals to prank random people around the world’#‘I’m worried about being a bad influence on hueso jr’#‘sometimes I kinda wanna see hypno’s plans succeed’#‘it’s been way too long since I found this out and honestly it’s embarrassing but I actually don’t have a di-‘#SORRY COULDNT HELP MYSELF#(<-but did u know that that pink rather than red observation actually ties into this headcanon as well if u know about red eared sliders)
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noisyghost · 24 days
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just put a bandaid on it
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arieswritez · 16 days
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yan!mark talks to you this way when you try to escape btw!! 🫶🏾🫶🏾 restraining orders are literally just suggestions when it comes to mark 🥺
mumble mumble predator/prey dynamic with yan!mark mumble mumble
cw; mentions of stalking, yan!mark, no smut but suggestive, just me rambling lolll, mdni 💕
yan!mark who never thought about pinning you until one day you sneak up on him to scare him (joke) and he just completely flips you over his hip and onto the floor. you have to fight back the vertigo from the way your entire world tilted to tell him it's just me! just me!!
and he's got his fist in the air, ready to strike.
his gaze softens when. . yeah. it is just you.
but he still hovers over you because. . you look so alarmed. your eyes wide with fear. your breath picking up. he can hear your heartbeat if he concentrates.
you look like a scared, cornered animal and mark has. . never been harder LMAOO. don't be surprised if he just gets on his knees and starts pulling your pants down <3
good luck trying to break up with him!! stalking you gives him a stiffy!!! xx
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beatcroc · 1 year
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there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y
hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]
#ramble after realtags yeag. shoutout to serrangelic btw suggesting the silhouettes thing bc i would have Died otherwise#pizza tower#peppino spaghetti#fake peppino#gustavo and brick#arting#pizzaposting#so anyway i think fake peppino has like. a general awareness that he is supposed to Be Peppino and that he was Made to do that#and likewise he does generally try to...do that. the thing he does NOT realize is hes like really goddamn bad at it#not to be mean but like...c'mon. they are pretty distinctly different kinds of guys even beyond the physiology yknow.#he's neither on-brand nor fooling anyone dsjdsjjkgfsd. BUT!#since the rest of the cast generally likes him [at least as I play it] he thinks hes doing just fine#he's like 'oh they r happy with me so i must be getting a good grade in being peppino :)'#so getting told that 'yeah you actually really suck at that but that was never the reason people liked you'#and told that by og model peppino no less--yknow THE guy he's supposed to be living up to#who's already a bit intimidating for that and who ALSO totally wrecked him TWICE in the tower#making him acutely familiar with just how formidable the guy is and how much there IS to live up to....#it's a Moment for sure. not really a sad or hurt one though. just... contemplative.#thinking abt people liking him for being the guy he's already naturally been being even though that guy is Not Peppino#i don't think he's gonna be super broken up about realizing he has a bad grade in peppino given everything else hes got now#nor do i really think he cares enough to go like reinvent himself or whatever after the fact#he seems to b pretty clearly having fun with it already so i think he just keeps doing that#and in some cases he still has the pre-installed peppino traits/instincts like to cooka da pizza. and that's fine#is this projection. yes. but if youve been following me awhile you know most of my character writing is ghdhfdgf#gonna kinda expand on all this in the gerome one which is...one after next. itll be a bit but man.#anyway peppino will never admit to anyone and especially not himself that he's gotten a little attached to the guy. hee hoo#pep tends to be kinda surly but he certainly has his ways of showing he cares. all of which are on display here#''that thing is not my son'' says man currently watching thing's antics with the 'bemused dad' arms crossed pose. yeah ok buddy.#gus is totally onto him already but hes not gonna say anything.#if u read all this ur prize is not having to go decode fp's rot13. his lines are ''meant to be you...?'' and ''wrong question.''
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saionjeans · 27 days
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i love how during nanami’s drive she’s like “touga you gotta listen to me this guy is fucked up i just saw him performing some of the most horrifically unspeakable acts of violence” and akio is like [chuckling smugly] “hmmm….. what you saw….. yes, of course, a child’s mind is clouded by their limited perception….. and yet…. what you think you saw is merely an illusion…… due to solipsism.” and nanami doesn’t even pause to consider it, immediately she’s just like “what the fuck is this evil freak talking about.”
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howgalling · 8 months
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mr. one shot over here felt awful confident with that little shotgun... lmao i do like nihlus alot despite his short appearance <3
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barawrah · 2 months
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even more modern au whump i think for a while after (vague gesture) they would fall asleep clinging to each other only after exhausting themselves from crying
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full ^_^) sorry for putting them through the horrors all over again im observing them under a microscope a little bit just to see ^_^👍
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mediumgayitalian · 3 months
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When Nico asks him out, there is vomit on his scrubs. His hair is disgusting. The bags under his eyes are actually the size of Texas, and he was born there so he says it in good confidence.
Also, it goes right over his head.
“Gods, yeah,” Will sighs, relieved. “Yeah, I could —” He laughs, a little hysterically, scrubbing his hand over his face and trying to blink the sudden onslaught of dizzy away. “I’m starving. I am — tired of this stupid room. I could use dinner out.”
“Great,” Nico says, rocking back on his heels. He twists his skull ring around his finger, like he does when he’s nervous, but there’s a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth that Will has learned, in the past few weeks of his help in the infirmary, is a smile. “I’ll — um, I’ll pick you up at seven?”
Will glances down at the rapidly-drying splatter of vomit spreading from his right shoulder all the way down to his belly button. The nasty brown-yellow colour of it clashes so violently with the mint-green of his scrubs that it might be a felony, actually. The one whole spaghetti noodle smack in the middle of it does not help.
“Yeah, I’ll need at least that long in the shower.”
Nico’s face goes through a very complicated string of emotions. “I think you look nice,” he offers.
“You and I have very different definitions of ‘nice’, di Angelo,” Will snorts. He gestures behind him. “Bye, Nico. I’ll see you in a few hours?”
“Right. Bye, Will.”
“Hey, first name status!”
“Shut up, Solace. Go change your shirt.”
Will snickers, jogging down the Big House stairs with a backwards wave. He hustles past campers jogging towards their daily activities, ducking into the Apollo cabin before someone can ask him for something.
It’s been a busy few weeks.
The Giant War was…well. It’s over, now, is the point, but it was not without casualties, and it was not without injury, and injury, and injury. Plus the flu that just had to hit right before the Romans were about to head back to California. Will has spent more nights in the infirmary in the last few weeks than he ever has, including after the Titan War. Understaffed does not begin to cover it. He had to beg Cecil for his secret Redbull stash after his third straight day on his feet, praying to his father, his aunt, and any other god who was listening to keep his hands from shaking. Without Nico’s help — well, he doesn’t want to think about how things would have gone without Nico’s help.
He’d slept through his promised three days in the infirmary. Will had restitched his werewolf scratching (—his werewolf scratches his fucking werewolf scratches his fucking shitting goddamn werewolf scratches that he stitched with sewing thread and left for gods know how many days and Will is going to quit his job, he is, he is going to live in a hut in the Florida Everglades and chase questers away with a fucking broom—) as he slept on the first day, then spent the next days glaring at him in seething jealousy.
He had wanted to sleep. He had wanted to sleep so godsdamn badly. And yet. He was plastering salve on the translucent fingers of a dumbass who pushed himself too hard.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Will had mocked, ignoring the yelled you’re losing it, Willy! from Kayla as she passed by. “Nyeh nyeh nyeh. I can shadow travel wherever I want. Nyeh nyeh nyeh. Catch me I’m about to pass out. Nyeh nyeh nyeh.”
“I never asked you to catch me,” muttered Nico, groggily, and Will had screamed.
Not his best moment.
Luckily, his string of colourful cursing had killed any idea that Will was scared of him, or something, and the list of chores he’d doled out the second he made sure Nico could walk had put the idea in the grave.
He still can’t quite believe that Nico actually, like…listened. But he’s a good bandage cutter (very accurate) and, as a super fun bonus, the Romans were all scared of him, so when they tried to get out of their cots while their limbs were literally hanging onto them by a thread, Will just had Nico stand behind him and glare at them until they sat their asses back down.
(“You are without a doubt the best nurse I’ve ever had,” Will had grumbled, sticking his tongue out at Austin, who lazily tried to trip him. Nico had rolled his eyes, huffing as if he thought Will was joking.)
“Wow,” says Cecil, sitting in Will’s bed for some reason. He rakes his eyes up and down his body, whistling appreciatively at the towel around his waist. Will rolls his eyes and starts digging through his dresser drawers. “Look at you! So human-like! No zombie eyebags to be seen!”
“Showers don’t erase eyebags, dick for brains.”
“True, but you’re so hot when you’re not covered in blood and vomit that I can overlook them.”
“Kiss my ass, Cecil.”
“Really? Is that permission?”
Will laughs, admitting defeat. He tugs on a pair of boxers, then tosses a few clothing options on his bed.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s good to be out, Zeus’ beard. Nico’s taking me to dinner; d’you know if it’s cold in the city? And I should probably wear real shoes, right, Annabeth mentioned something about New York bacteria —”
“Woah, woah, hold on, William, pause there for a second.”
Will looks up, frowning. “What?”
“Nico’s taking you to dinner?”
Cecil’s eyes are wide. Reflexively, Will pats his chin, paranoid he’s got something on his face.
“…Yes? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing! Nothing, nothing.” Quickly, Cecil schools his face back to its usual smirk, leaning casually against the bedpost. (He misses. Mercifully, Will decides to let it slide and wait for him to straighten himself. He’s a good friend, like that.)
“Well, obviously something.”
“Nope! I’m just —” He softens. “I’m glad you’re taking a break, Willy. We’ve been worried about you. Remind me to send him a lock pick set.”
“Most people send fruit,” Will suggests gently. He cuffs Cecil playfully on the jaw, rolling his eyes when Cecil catches his hand and presses a loudly exaggerated kiss to it. “Or flowers. Also, don’t call me Willy.”
“Sorry, Willy.”
“Gods, you’re infuriating.”
“Mhm. And yet you adore me. Oou, wear the grey plaid shirt, it makes your eyes look bluer. And for the love of Hermes, do not wear shorts.”
———
At seven o’clock sharp, there’s a knock on the doorframe.
“Uh, hi?”
“Nico!” Will says brightly. “Hi! You don’t have to wait by the door, dorkus. Come in.”
With a second of hesitation, Nico steps in. The usually creaky floorboards are silent under his black Chucks. Will chooses to believe that’s on purpose, because it’s cooler.
“You can sit if you want! Unless we gotta leave right away. I wasn’t actually sure, are we just going to McDonald’s or something? Also, I told Cecil he couldn’t come, I figured three would make it a party or something but lemme know if we’re bringing friends along and —”
“We’re not,” Nico interrupts.
“—tell them.” Will blinks at him, then smiles. “Just you and me, then.”
Nico clears his throat. “Yeah.” He glances up at Will, and away again, like he can’t hold his gaze for too long. He looks a little flushed. “You, uh. You braided your hair.”
“What? Oh!” Will touches the French braids on either side of his head, smiling. “Yeah, I finally had the time. Keeps my hair back better than much else. Hey, Nico, you good? You looked flushed, maybe you should —”
Nico catches his hand. He smiles.
“I’m fine, Solace. You just look nice, is all.”
Will snorts. “No kidding. Anything’s better than the vomit shirt.”
———
Nico refuses to answer any of his questions about where they’re going.
Or, well. Will asks him and endless string of questions and receives only hums or nods in response, except for the odd huff of laughter when Will pouts.
“C’mon! Can’t I just know where we’re going?”
“You’re about to.”
“I mean now, Death Breath.”
“Well, now I’m definitely not telling you.”
“Ugh.”
Nico places a fleeting hand on his elbow as they reach the base of Half-Blood Hill, stalling him.
“Wait.”
Will pauses, listening. His heartbeat picks up. Monster? Monsters?
He glances over at Nico, noticing the tension in his face, the twist to his mouth, the —
Oh, no he doesn’t.
“Hold it, Gerard Way!”
Nico startles.
“What?”
“I know that face! You are not shadow-travelling us to the city, no way, no how, do you want to dissolve —”
“Will,” Nico interrupts, laughing softly, “Will, trust me for a second. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
Nico blinks. Will flushes.
“That was fast.”
“Well! Well.”
“I’m not shadow-travelling,” Nico promises, changing the subject when it’s clear Will has nothing to say. “I’m just summoning our ride. I promise it won’t drain me.”
“…Fine.”
Rolling his eyes fondly, Nico screws up his face again. The tiny freckles on the bridge of his nose are more obvious when he wrinkles it. Will has to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from touching them.
One moment, there’s nothing but empty road in front of them. The next, there’s a massive fucking limo, driven by what Will can only describe as a ghoul.
“There,” Nico says happily. “Our ride!”
He jogs over to the sleek black limo, leaving Will gaping. With a quick hand to keep the driver from getting up, he opens the back door, gesturing broadly.
“C’mon, Sunshine.”
Will recovers quickly. He’s never been in a limo before — hell, he’s hardly ever been in cars. He slides into the black leather seats, gaping, barely noticing Nico ducking in and closing the door behind him.
“Cleveland and Merrick, please, Jules-Albert.”
Limos are crazy.
If hotel mini bars were, like, physical places rather than tiny bottles in mini fridges, they would look like limos. The windows are tinted, so the interior is dark, illuminated a softly glowing red by strips of LEDs. There is an actual TV screen, although it’s not on. Will feels like James Bond.
“Gift from my dad,” Nico explains. “He knows he can’t always be there to drive me around, so he got Jules-Albert to take me places. He’s cool. He even answers to me, technically, and not my dad, so if anything happens back here he won’t snitch.” Nico gets so violently red he damn near goes invisible under the LEDs. “Not that — I mean, it’s more like —”
“That is so cool,” Will breathes. “Oh my gods, Nico, you are literally the coolest demigod in the world.”
“Hah,” says Nico weakly. The limo (!!) slows to a stop. “We are — here, let’s go!”
Nico practically throws himself out of the limo. Will takes one last look, thanks Jules-Albert, and hurries out after him.
———
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“What?” Nico looks at him defensively. The corner of his mouth twitches. “I thought it was pretty funny.”
Apollo Restaurant Diner, reads the garish, flashing yellow sign. Seniors half-off!
Will nudges Nico’s side as they walk in. “You should ask for the discount.”
“Keep it up and you’re paying for yourself, Solace.”
Nico guides them into a booth by the window before he can say anything. In seconds, a server is strolling up to them, popping their bubblegum and grinning.
“Welcome to Apollo’s, where if we don’t predict your order, it’s free! I’ll get you guys some sodas, and…hm. Fries to share, I think.”
They’re off, ponytail bouncing, before either of them can say anything.
“Well,” says Nico after a moment. “I guess we’re having fries.”
Will snorts. “You love fries. You love anything fried and battered, because there is nothing you love more than poor decision making.”
“Caught me, Solace.”
“Aw. I thought —”
Their server pops back in with their sodas, nodding as they thank them.
“— I thought I was bumped up to first name status! You called me Will earlier.”
Nico slurps obnoxiously at his cherry coke.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did too!”
“Not a jury in the world will believe you, Solace.”
Will blows his straw wrapper at him. Nico barely dodges, laughing — a real, open laugh, where some of the guard drops from his shoulders, where his smile is wide enough to show his teeth, where his dark eyes cringe near shut.
“You’re so lame. Get your stupid straw wrapper away from me.”
Will feels like he doesn’t respond for ages, mesmerized by the crooked curve of Nico’s smile. There’s mischief in that smile, and oddly it makes shyness bloom in Will’s chest, it makes the tips of his ears red, makes him duck his head.
Will’s saved from trying to come up with a comment by the massive — truly gigantic — platter of fries set between them.
“Holy shit,” breathes Will, alarmed.
“Holy shit,” breathes Nico, eyes wide. The smile grows wider. “Holy shit!”
Will’s stomach growls. He’s reminded how truly hungry he is, and without another word, the two of them dig in.
They end up ordering another platter. Will theorizes that, in total, they eat at least seven whole potatoes.
“How many fries do you think is in one potato?”
“A yukon?” says Will. “Like, twenty-five, at least. Wait, hold on, pass me your napkin, lemme do the math.”
“Gods, you are such a nerd.”
Will loses count of how many times they refill their sodas. Too many. Camp food is usually very healthy — as head medic, Will has to set an example, but it’s just Nico, here. Will eats himself into a minor food coma and relishes in it. When Nico asks if he wants to order one of the giant milkshakes, he doesn’t hesitate.
“Duh. Strawberry.”
“Gross, Solace. Vanilla or nothing.”
“Basic ass bitch.”
“At least I’m not vying for strawberry!”
By the time Nico gets up to go get their bill, the sun has long since set. Will realises he forgot to put his watch back on after his shower, and has no idea what time it actually is.
“Nine-thirty ish,” Nico says, opening the limo door for him. “We’ll be back at camp at ten.”
Will grimaces. “Fuck. Will Jules-Albert chill overnight? If we try to go back to our cabins, the curfew harpies are gonna eat us.”
“Scared, Solace?”
Nico’s eyes are bright and teasing. Will wonders how the hell other campers find him so frightening — the little twitches of his mouth are so obvious. Some people are just oblivious.
“Of course I’m scared, you dickhead. What am I gonna do, sing a hymn until they go away?”
Nico snorts. “You worry too much. They’re afraid of me, you know. They’ll steer clear.”
“You have a lot of confidence in how much you scare people, which is crazy for someone who’s five eight.”
“Oh, piss off.”
Will grins. “Never.”
The drive back to camp feels shorter than it is. The limo’s seats are stupid comfortable, and Nico is a warm presence beside him, and more than anything, Will is exhausted. Last time he slept was — Thursday? He’s pretty sure? He definitely slept on Wednesday, and he’s pretty sure Kayla locked him in the back office with a pillow on Thursday. But maybe that was this morning.
“Will, hey.” A cool, calloused hand brushes over his forehead, and he leans into it, humming. “Get up, you loser. We’re here.”
Will groans. “Five more minutes.”
The soft, gravelly chuckles are the most musical things he’s ever heard. “Up you get, Sunshine, or I’ll let the harpies eat you.”
That gets Will up fast. He shoves Nico away, who’s still snickering at him, grumbling as he crawls out of the limo.
“It’s like you want me to die of stress.”
“Nah.”
They wave goodbye to Jules-Albert, who disappears in a blink. Halfway up the hill, a hand closes around his. Will glances over to Nico in surprise, but he looks resolutely ahead.
“I can feel you freaking out.” He clears his throat. “I told you, Solace. I’ll protect you.”
“That’s not what you said,” Will grumbles, but it’s hard to get his attitude across when his cheeks ache from smiling.
Nico ends up being right — the harpies steer clear of them. He looks very smug about being right, smirking all the way up to the Apollo Cabin door. He walks him up the creaking steps, pausing at the door. He lets go of Will’s hand, which is kind of a bummer. Will had liked holding his hand — physical proof that Nico was becoming more comfortable with him.
“So,” Nico says, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“So,” Will parrots, grinning. He grins wider at Nico’s scowl, gently illuminated by the soft glow of the Apollo cabin. “I had fun tonight, Nico. I needed that.”
Nico’s whole face softens. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Will smiles at him again. “Thank you.”
For a second, Nico’s slight smile melts into a more serious expression. Will finds himself lingering, searching Nico’s face. Waiting.
Quick as a dart, Nico leans up and presses a kiss to Will’s cheek.
“Oh,” Will breathes, eyes wide. His fingers come up and brush the spot Nico kissed, skin tingling.
Nico looks at him nervously. “Was that okay?”
It takes Will a solid few seconds to answer. Even then, it’s not any recognizable words — more of an embarrassing hnnnnngh wha.
Nico grins. “Goodnight, Sunshine.”
“Nico — wait.”
“Harpies, Sunshine.”
Will could swear he sees Nico’s shoulders shaking with laughter as he walks away. Which — huh! Pardon! Excuse.
“Nico! Was! Was this a date!”
“I’ll see you in the morning, Will.”
“Nico!”
Nico disappears down the bend without answering. Will manages to catch the curve of his smile before he goes.
He doesn’t sleep a wink.
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my two moods are:
1. steve harrington has final girl energy and nothing can kill him
and
2. steve harrington is destined to die a tragic and martyrous death and i will never be okay again
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u call gojo princess exactly one time as a joke and he lets out a giggle he didn’t know his vocal cords were capable of producing
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