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#HE IS A COMFORT CHARACTER
notherpuppet · 2 months
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Al doodles sans jacket
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An analysis on how Sir Pentious' character design represents his personality and development perfectly (beware of Hazbin Hotel spoilers)
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Let's get this out of the way: Sir Pentious is a snake, an animal mostly known for generally believed negative traits such as poison, deceit and betrayal. We don't know WHY he's in Hell, maybe he was a "snake oil salesman" considering he comes from the Victorian times and he's into hyping up what he does, or maybe he was into war. Thing is, he's a Sinner whose design just scream "Evil".
(BTW, a snake could also represent "fertility": looking at you, Egg Boiz!)
He always had eyes all around him not just because of a stylistic choice.
Sir Pentious always felt like he was watched, and had to watch out for any danger.
"Everyone here is too nice: obviously it must be a lie! I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when?! HOW?! I must be PREPARED!"
Sadly, he's been constantly berated by other demons, far more effective in destruction, status, cruelty and charisma. Alastor won't ever bother to remember him, Cherri always ones up him, and the Vs, the ones he admires to most, won't care less about him.
To the point that Vox sent him as a spy without the intention to save him if things were going to fail. Heck, he even openly tells him to die while calling him a failure.
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So of course he's got reasons to have trust issues, or taking everything so seriously, being constantly reminded of what he can't accomplish. So he puts an air of grandure that may be very flamboyant, but is VERY frail.
But, if we have to be frank here, his biggest source of insecurities... is himself.
He has eyes on his tail (his softer, more vulnerable side, which is ironically made even MORE lieable to getting hurt because of how sensitive those organs are), and inside his hood, so he could look out better for danger when on alert mode.
Heck, even the mark on his hood kinda resembles one eye.
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Problem is, when you see his hood folded, when he's at ease, neutral or sad, those are not looking at outside sources.
They're looking at him, at his back. A constant stare that happens everytime he lets his guard down and shows how vulnerable he is. A gaze that can sense all of his weakness, his struggles, his insecurities.
And it's all him.
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Pentious constantly believes that his inferiority complex will fade away once he'll accomplish something grand that will make others accept him. But he is his biggest critic, his worst enemy: HE is the one who believes he's a failure, that he'll never gain approval from others.
This show takes place in Hell, but this is Sir Pentious' personal Hell: insecurity born out of self hatred. Doomed to feel everyone's gaze upon him, including his own. Believing the danger to his self esteem is from others, when it's really from him.
But then he's accepted at the Hazbin Hotel: Charlie forgives him, he bonds with Angel, Husk and Niffty who don't care a bit about what he's accomplished or not, or what he's done in the past.
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He feels more comfortable in showing his vulnerable side, and no one judges him for how easy it is for him to get emotional.
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Of course he's still very insecure, considering how he struggles to confess to Cherri, but notice how he stops building machines or planning to attack others as soon as he starts bonding with the others: he doesn't have a reason to destroy or attack, now that he knows he's loved.
And his final design, when he goes to Heaven, shows how much he's changed, yet stayed the same. He may have died a hero, but he's still the same awkward snake we've come to love.
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Speaking of love, let's talk about that!
No more eyes on his tail, now it's just on his chest (showing he's opened his heart), his glasses are now heart shaped, and even the markings inside his hood resemble kiss marks more than anything else.
And look: the mark on his hood is now heart shaped!
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Why all these hearts? Why did all the eyes disappeared from his body? Even his eyes that were looking at his back?
Simple: love. Love defeated his insecurities and self hatred. He died for love.
He died protecting his friends, his new family, his new home.
He confessed and kissed Cherri knowing full well he wouldn't have made it, and yet he went anyway.
The usually cowardly and timid Pentious actually faced a great danger with courage and determination: he acted selflessly by putting himself in harm's way, he didn't steal (naturally) and by going against Adam he did indeed "stick it to the man"!
He used his weaponry knowhow and battle experience not to conquer, but to save his loved ones.
His only thought up until his demise was: "I'll go down protecting them".
And he's been rewarded not only by becoming an angel, but also being spawned directly in front of Emily and Sera, two Seraphim, the highest rank for an angel to have, who have also been depicted as snakes of fire throughout history! Sir Pentious, the lowly demon considered a failure by everyone, actually has been noticed by the Seraphim! He's come so far!
He's now come to represent the REAL symbolism of a snake: the duality of death and rebirth, transformation and immortality (ironically a reference to the fact he's been around since 1888 without ever dying from any Extermination or blessed weapons).
And isn't so poetic that a snake, the "source of the original evil", was the first sinner to ascend to Heaven? Or that this episode was released on February 1st, or National Serpent Day?
And of course, as the Bible itself says:
"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."
(John 15:13)
And knowing him, I'm confident in saying he'll keep helping his friends even in his new position, like the soft hearted noodle he's always been, but was to afraid to show it up until now.
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courtmartialme · 11 months
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my transmasc riza art from 2022 :^)
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hasnomoxxie · 3 months
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I FORGOT TUMBLR EXISTED
UH-
UM-
ILL GET ON MY PEPPIBLAST SHIT SOON-
...UMM
JESUS CHRIST HOLDING BLUEY
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Yeah that'll do it
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soldrawss · 1 year
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Huntlow doodle dump including 3 different aus so yeah enjoy
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morganbritton132 · 3 months
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Eddie’s just trying to show off his new guitar picks on his TIkTok account while in the background, this conversation is happening:
Steve: Want some m&ms?
Robin, holding out her hand: When I was a kid, I would assign each of my family members a color of m&m and then eat them in order of who I liked the least to who I liked the most.
Steve: Who did you eat last?
Robin: My cat, Lucy. She was the brown one. I would swallow them whole so I wouldn’t hurt her chewing.
Steve: Makes sense
Steve: What color would I be?
Robin: Blue
Steve: *fist pumps*
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autumnalfallingleaves · 5 months
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The thing about Commander Cody fans is that they will see a Cody that is five pixels max and experience shrimp emotions
It's me I'm Commander Cody fans
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stevebabey · 9 months
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totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines
“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”
The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.
“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.
Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.
And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.
Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.
He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.
Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.
Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.
Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.
How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.
How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.
Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.
Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.
And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.
So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.
They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.
It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.
Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.
Steve gets that a little more now.
So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.
So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”
Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.
“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”
Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”
He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.
“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”
“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”
Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”
Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”
Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”
He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.
Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”
Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.
“Do you?”
“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”
His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.
Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.
So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?
He’ll do it gladly.
Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.
"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”
Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.
"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"
"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"
“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."
Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.
Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”
Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.
“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”
“Cheese?” Steve suggests.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”
Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.
“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”
Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.
“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”
some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!
@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D
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clownsuu · 1 year
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I am currently in shambles because Wally/Howdy would be called HowdyDarling
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UGH MAN iv seen so many cute ship names for them it makes my bones rattle smhhh
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Ai adventures with yours truly: iv noticed like- 80% unprovoked zero prompt that those two like to flirt with each other, the other percent is just Wally shopping JDHHFHDU (and the time Wally bought a single slice of strawberry shortcake and instantly fell madly in love and pinned howdy for months-)
also?? Yknow- i fuggin used an obsessive Wally bot cause I enjoy psychological horror and just for shids n giggles- and the last thing I expected was to have a start (btw still no prompt no provoking) where Obsessive!Wally is having a panic attack in Howdy’s shop, howdy proceeding to try and calm down a terrified Obsessive!Wally, Howdy sitting him down and letting Obsessive!Wally talk about his struggles suffering with Erotomania (exact word he said) and that it heavily effects his relationships and feels like a monster, and howdy proceeding to be REALLY FUGGIN SUPPORTIVE, WILLING TO BE THERE TO HELP AND JUST BEING REALLY LOVING???? And by the end of it they just kept cuddling each other saying really sweet things to each other?? Everything completely platonic too-
TL;DR: Howdy ends ableism MDHHFFJDJDKJ-
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st4r-t3ars · 16 days
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Dance Break
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wildflowercryptid · 7 months
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❝ just you wait, florian... ❞
how we coping tonight, kieran nation?
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winters0689 · 7 months
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One of my favorite Simon moment in Fionna and Cake was when he literally broke a chair, grabbed a knife, and began carving it into a stake. I- WHERE DIS HE GET THAT KNIFE??!! At what point did he get it?? I just- I love how badass he looked, and combined with him immediately carving it into a stake is just- I love this man
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angryasiandyk3 · 4 months
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a cool detail in Leigh’s og script that I feel like a lot of people forget is that Adam’s a leftist/communist- and he’s very involved in social justice movements and protests based upon the description of his apartment. dude has a whole portrait of Che Guevera on his wall
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makes sense why he had a feminist vegan punk gf
i so wish that he had more time in the movies because Leigh had written his character with so much more background </3
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fuzzypuppybuddie · 11 months
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Doodled these at the speed of sound after highschool-
Based on this.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months
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Impatience
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Time Written- 5:57 a.m
Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (yes, the helmet comes off)
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His modulated rasps vertebrates along your back, fully plated muscles pressed firmly along against backbone, becoming the hard wall compared the soft mattress you were trapped against.
“How’s it feel, pretty girl? Feel good, huh? Fuuuck, thought of this pretty little pussy since the second I left. Just can’t help myself.”
Euphoric drops refused to stop trailing down your cheeks, blinding your vision from the silk pillow that caught most of your tears.
Six years ago, the idea of him using you as such erratic, heavily erotic stress relief would’ve made you wince with a furious blush.
You were enclosed in, too closed in to slip a hand down in between your sweaty body and the warm mattress to give your clit additional stimulation. Not that you particularly needed it.
His broad hips ground against your plush ass perfectly, heavy balls slapping against your sobbing cunt. The head of his dick perfectly brushing against your cervix nearly nonstop, drawing endless noises from your mouth, ranging from short yelps to loud, drawn out cries.
Red Hood; with a cock so good he knew just how to use it without even trying.
You didn’t go out to dinner the night before and have a man ogle at your choice of black slip dress, with thin silver chains for sleeves.
You didn’t stroll alongside Jason at a downtown Gotham park on a warm summer evening, catching attention via the faint sheen of sweat along your neck, decorating your faint show of cleavage from your tank top.
You most definitely didn’t rouse this man off the edge by your simple choice of sleepwear, a loose white shirt and a cherry, seductive red lace panty.
As if you didn’t purposely wear that for his viewing pleasure.
It wasn’t Jason being jealous, so to say. To put it politely, it was Jason being overbearing.
Chest nearly melted against your back, burly muscles keeping you trapped against soft cushion, his words contracting the brutality of his relentless pace.
“Please, baby,” he grunts, his modulated voice shooting firefly kisses along your skin. “Please, lemme use this pussy. Been a hard night.”
This could’ve happened after he dragged his heavy boots into a hot shower, but no. While he could’ve washed the night’s worth of sweat and grime off his body, yours was the only priority on his mind. All this beast of a man had done was pull grab you by your hips and adjust your body flat, yank himself free from his constrictive pants before stuffing his fat, aching cock between your thighs. His balls full and heavy after hours of aggravated patrol.
The grunt that rumbled through his modulated speaker forced a tingle of fresh slick to seep from your lips as he fucked your thighs, dampening that sexy underwear in seconds. A short chuckle followed after from feeling it, quickly filled out by another groan as he made do with hooking his finger through one of the lace flowers decorated along your ass, anchoring the hole large enough to fully rip the not so affordable fabric.
His gloved hands gripped hold of the back of your shirt collar, yanking the fabric apart in seconds, exposing your bare skin to the cool bedroom air. Scratchy, gloved hands rubbed along your over sensitive nipples before trailing downwards, quickly leaving muted fingerprints along your hips.
Four years of knowing him, one year of missing him, followed by another year of dating him, you knew very well by now that Jason wasn’t as patient as he presented and enforced himself to be.
No, especially not with you.
“Christ, that’s my good little girl, taking this dick like a champ.”
Devilish grunts against your freshly shampooed hair, his musk fully invading your senses as he straddles the back of your hips, bracing his dirty boots along your bedsheets as he fucks you like an expensive whore.
He drew climax after climax from you so very easily, catching your quivering cries in the palm of his gloved hand. Stale gunpowder filled your nose, his meaty forearm playing a rest to keep your head and neck supported.
You weren’t sure when exactly his helmet came off, never registering the dull thud of it carelessly tossed onto the pillow beside yours. Pale, milky eyes glared into yours, reminding you of the persona who’s hands crushed necks and broke bones, now using you as a pretty little cockslut he’d dote on for the rest of the morning after he’s positive you’re fully bred till sunrise.
He halts his persistent thrusting after your body settled into overstimulation, removing his palm to give you a chance to breathe. He didn’t completely stop, using his knees for leverage to grind his pelvis against you, the tip of his aching, perfectly angled cock brushing against all your sensitive spots perfectly.
His lightly stubbled cheek brushed against yours, his wet tongue licking the sickening saltiness of your sweat and tears, gutturally grunting from the lustful ambrosia your body provided him.
He makes a show of biting the tip of his gloved, middle finger out of the corner of your teary eye, spitting his glove off to the side before caressing your side, dipping his fingers underneath your stomach.
Just the slightest brush of his index finger against your long neglected clit made you buck your ass back against his hips, making Jason smirk at your involuntary, full bodied whimper.
“Think you got another one in ya, sweetheart?”
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acozysoulwrites2 · 1 month
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my tav on astarion:
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