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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 !

#at this point call this the 'can i' series #sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3 #but don't think they will <3 #tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved #ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE #trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao)#but <3 thank u all #gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch-starved steve harrington #not rlly anymore hehe #does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE #yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time #nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur #ok ok i'll be quiet now

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skullfragments · 1 month

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soooo i've been real busy this past month and change working on this monster of a painting! it was originally for the GO Ref library study club but clearly took much longer than i anticipated😅

for those of you who don't recognize it, this is based on one of my favorite historical paintings, Judith Beheading Holofernes (1620) by Artemisia Gentileschi. i love the Baroque period and this painting (as well as her other works) makes me insane. here it is Good Omens style so maybe all of you can be insane with me <3

"Aziraphale (and Crowley) Beheading the Metatron"

(non-bloody and non-glowy versions under the cut)

#IT'S DONE #can i get a wahoo #dear tumblr pls don't fuck up the quality #sara does art #good omens #good omens fanart #shout out to the GORL server!!!#crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #the metatron #OFF WITH HIS HEAD #i will never attempt digital oil painting again #(pls stop me if i do)#artemisia gentileschi #ITALIAN BAROQUE QUEEN #italian baroque #i need you all to know that the suggested tag that came up was 'italian barty crouch jr.'#david tennant you're already in this picture that's enough #baroque art #judith beheading holofernes #the superior version btw #tw blood #didn't you have a flaming sword? it was flaming like anything #if u zoom in pls appreciate the tartan bowtie detail #that shit took me way longer than it should have #as well as the approx 15hrs each i spent on azi's sleeves #did i miss any tags??#ART #i'm going to hibernate now thank you

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iraprince · 7 months

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FAILGIRLZ FOREVER 🍶🎸⚡ comm for @failwife-fedposter !

#it won't let me tag u :')#but thank u again!#my art #fanart #bocchi the rock!#kikuri hiroi #commission #gallery

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hailsatanacab · 3 months

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I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache.

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were.

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too?

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence.

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How?

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman.

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year.

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating.

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..."

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he...

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please."

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now. "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb.

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc fanfic #wip game #thanks for the ask <3 and thanks for helping me remember this fic lol #also huge thanks for having the prompt linked because i have S O M A N Y prompt wips that i can't ever post because i've lost the post #didn't really know how to get danny to calm down #that's a lie #i have a few ideas of where this can go but no motivation for it - not against all the other wips #i'll keep at it and ig post to ao3 should it actually start looking alright #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#dudes did u kno u can pin shit to your clipboard on desktop because i fucking love that #also if you use the windows key + . there's like emojis and shit #(((φ(◎ロ◎;)φ)))#<- and kaomoji too!!!!!#anyway that's been fun facts and fanfic with me. ur welcome #oh shit my writing tag #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #at some point 'oh shit my writing tag' will just become my writing tag #anyway thank you again for the ask #good night everyone!!!!!

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sideblogdotjpeg · 23 days

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youtube

*crawling out of the ground* hello guys I made an animatic

#naddpod #not another dnd podcast #ba2mia #ba2umia #bahumia #solum bufo #sol bufo #kenna ironheart #jaina bronzebeard #albin pembroke #tag spamming because I SPENT 40 HOURS ON THIS. YOU WILL LOOK AT THIS.#posts by me dot com #OH BTW. the drawing of me w a possum on my head. thats because of the han drawing.#thank u again han that drawing kept me alive while i was making this T_T #anyway. i have to take a nap for like seven years after this #im . im so behind on work #Youtube

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muzzleroars · 1 year

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So... Fallen Gabriel without the helmet?

OK SO i've been playing around with overhauling my helmetless gabe design in order for him to be more cherubic and just solidify a more definitive look in general. so for groundwork, this is the design i currently have:

gabriel and the other three archangels are unique cherubs in that they manifest one face at a time and they each have a predominant forme that together make up the tetramorph. gabriel's default is the eagle as he is the divine messenger, but he is capable of shifting between all four faces as shown. the divine fire that burns over all of his head is opalescent and i've kept the idea that it would slowly spread to his entire body if not tempered under his helmet. the eyes of the faces are like obsidian, containing deep reflects of fire much like the eyes that cover his wings being gem-like and full of living flame.

however, after he falls, that fire goes out and the solid light that makes up his head melts into a bone-like casing

his head is now "petrified", the feathers and barbs frozen stiff and the flesh of his head resembling cooled magma. the open cavity is empty, prominently displaying the light that's been taken from him (and could be reached into infinitely..............v1 tries it). gabriel doesn't remove his helmet for some time after falling, eventually asking v1 to look upon him first before he does himself.

#ALL still subject to tweaking but this is much closer to my headcanon now i think #SORRY i bring rainbows wherever i go lol #thank u anon for making me finally sit down and sketch these out!!!#again too i think v1 saw his angelic face once before he died #and upon seeing his face after he falls #probably tells him it's 'much easier to look at' lol #cake answers #doodle tag #gabriel #fallen gabriel #rise and fall au

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certifiedcoffeeaddict · 7 months

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is this anything

#alt added #dcmk textposts #yes textpost singular but again for the sake of simplicity i will ignroe the hard facts #thank u dearao3 for helping me realise this tag exists #akam #probably #detective conan #akai shuichi #amuro tooru #furuya rei #file 1012 #consider this compensation for all the stuff about dead men you might be seeing #as i continue working on my paper.

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arcyane · 3 months

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hey everyone i think my brain got rewired again

+ one(1) bonus joke doodle below

#gates to infinity #pokemon #pkmn #hydreigon #oshawott #gti #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #digital art #art #fanart #pokemon fanart #thank u penguin for giving me more tag suggestions #this piece took me uhhh . abt 24hrs over the course of 4 days #i liked gti :) it was a little janky but thats ok! i definitely still almost cried. my brain WAS rewired again #DID become kind of obsessed w hydreigon. you know how it is #arc.png

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betheflyinggrapes · 7 months

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A little scene from @vampireghostlawyer 's fic modern man traditional medicine which you should read because i have. at least twenty times

#fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #fear and hunger daan #fear and hunger karin #daan von dutch #karin sauer #im sorry for tagging but i really want to just say thank u for the fic it has given me so much life #ngl i kinda want to draw more scenes from the fic its just so good. lies on the floor. thank u for the food #i totally forgot daan n marinas clothes should technically be ripped to shreds but. i forgor #this is also my first time drawing marina i did not do her justice hhhhhh #marcoh will forever be a mystery to me #but yes. im bad with words but thank u again for such an amazing fic i really cannot express how much serotonin it has given me

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acekindaneat · 7 months

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redraw of Holly Warburton's work

[version with no text below cut]

#i havent painted something in a long time #but im not allowed to do comics for a bit bc i realized that i do not take breaks when i make comics #so to break some of my comfort zones. im gonna be digitally painting #because i need to relearn colors #anyway thanks for being patient with me 🙏#i'll go back to making comics once i can hold a pen properly again but for now u guys r getting paintings i did on my phone &finger #ok normal tags #reigen arataka #serirei #serizawa katsuya #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho 100 fanart #mi art stuff

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brother-emperors · 6 months

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When you talk about Philippino history and then Roman history, as a Venezuelan it's been making me think about our history and like, I've always thought there's a lot of similarity there but now it's like...its so similar. Your house is haunted too! I always think about how we won wars against the colonizers but their ghosts are still there, and they still sit at the dinner table with us every night. Your work is so cool, I feel like I can extend that train of thought further through time. I've never been interested in Rome but now I kinda am!

Venezuela 🤝the Philippines: being haunted houses (colonized by Spain)

also that is so SO real, the ghosts really are with us!! THEY ARE AT!!! OUR DINNER TABLES!!!!! ngl, once you start noticing it, it's impossible to NOT notice how they've crawled into the spaces and just. stayed.

ancient Rome is so weird for it too, because if you asked me about it, I wouldn't immediately put ancient Rome down for haunting the Philippines, except for the fact that like Catholicism, it's fucking everywhere. it's gotten in the cracks and spaces between the walls. On the stage of theater, Nadres' Hanggang dito na lamang at maraming salamat: the main character is named after Julius Caesar

Closet Queeries, J. Niel C. Garcia

and so many people are named after figures from ancient Rome (I know enough Mark Anthonys I've run out of differentiating nicknames for everyone) that it rivals Catholic saints for naming conventions. neo classical architecture had it's moment in the sun in Manila, our ilustrados brought some of it back when they returned from Spain to call for reform, and then independence, and I am struggling to hold back a plague-infection comparison about that. like, something else crept in with Spain, and like Spain's ghosts, it Did Not Leave.

but on the other hand! there's a long, centuries long, tradition of using the events of the Fall of the Republic to discourse, discuss, to vent or call for action, current events. it provides a interlocutor when something hurts too much to say directly, it provides a stage to explore a tragedy that echoes in our own histories, it gives a script to voice an ideal that a government might otherwise put down. how many centuries have we used Brutus (and Cassius) to rail against Tyranny, and how many centuries with equal enthusiasm have people used Julius Caesar as a martyr to justify the rights of Kings and Empires? these things are equally as important (in a different way) from the ancient events that actually transpired. (this specific topic, of Brutus & the Assassination of Caesar and it's literary revivals in history, are the focus of The Brutus Revival, Manfredi Piccolomini)

and the cores of these things conflict with each other, but in that friction, it's like there's an invitation to sit down and think for a minute. to look back at history and feel it's immediacy in the present.

ANYWAY I got carried away, but I am glad!! that my stuff could make Rome interesting!!! I hope that you find new doors of thoughts to explore!!!!!!!

#holding this ask in my heart forever thank u for sending this anon #ask tag #idk sometimes i draw goofy shit because its fun. and gay stuff because I Like Men ofc im going to explore things thru that lens #but also. i feel a little like im trying to look at this lurking ghost of imperialism without. addressing it directly #my love for spectacle and drama directly against knowing that the historical horror is not. that far removed. heugh.#so this meant a lot to me!! i feel seen in a good way. thank u again!

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starflungwaddledee · 6 months

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she's normal!

(tags were by @the-void-is-a-disappointment on this post)

#starstruck dee #bandana waddle dee #meta knight #my art #i was so overwhelmed by the attention to detail in these tags i had to draw a whole little scene... thank u #always love when kirby folks hit the theories and bring out a magnifying glass on the lore #ngl it is extremely flattering to see folks do it with my oc #also sorry for so many starstruck posts again; i sometimes do these when i have limited time and can bang out a quick answer #the others take me a bit longer because i want to do more Serious Responses but it comes at the cost of time!

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vellichorom · 1 month

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women named peanut butter in some life & twice as sweet...

A FUN LITTLE HANDFUL OF SOFT FUZZY WOMEN FOR MY BELOVED @tomiechu ~

look familiar? FUN FACT! these are all based off of sailor moon shots!

#uwu art #Spooky Month #hello again spooky month tag i come bearing art at LEAST vaguely related to the show <33 #Shelby Belle #OCs #TO THE NICE ANON WHO WANTED TO SEE FUZZY WOMEN THIS ONE IS FOR YOU #she's not the fuzziest she could be.... ( because this is merely a bust ) but understand me #FUN AS FUCK TO DRAW OUGH..... thank u tomie #ALWAYS HAPPY 2 DRAW HER FOR YOU

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novembermorgon · 1 month

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ok now I need to know about your lannister oc and her targaryen sons uwu

yes siree!!!!

get used to her because despite my boltonposting shes the only one ive been putting in any sort of work writing for . <3

her name is myrielle lannister :-) she's around during the dunk and egg era born aboutttt 192 ac ..? daughter of damon lannister and cerissa brax (one year younger than tybolt and one year older than gerold) - she's honestly just kind of awful sorry . spoiled and vain and selfish like a high school mean girl who goes to nursing school but if you put her in the place of the only daughter of an unbelievably wealthy medieval lord that's given her anything she could ever ask for . while tybolt is heir and the golden boy myrielle ends up being the favourite exclusively off the idea of being a good daughter who smiles politely and sits and looks pretty when they're meeting with this lord or the other . she has a pretty strained relationship with tybolt when they're younger but when they get past being 10 and insulting your sibling over every little thing they end up being really close .

her relationship with gerold on the other hand iiiis . weird . i think they're a little bit too similar in that they like to plot and scheme a little bit and she never really knows what to make of him . they're kind of at odds and while she always has some sense of loyalty to him by virtue of them being family she's never very fond of him, especially after tybolt and his daughter die (which she'd probably believe he's got some hand in).

when you really get into it grrm is notably not very good at telling us exactly what year things happen in this part of the timeline nor is he very in depth with a lot of these targs so a lot of this is going to be headcanon + assumptions etc don't get mad if you're the number one dunk and egg lorehead...

when she's 11 years old she goes to king's landing with tybolt and their father and she ends up engaged to aerion targaryen - which neither of them are suuuper enthused by . aerion because he's a little bit of a child emperor esque horrorshow of a son that holds fast to the idea of the targ legacy and traditions and from what we know about him he'd prefer to marry a sister. myrielle on the other hand finds herself at court and very quickly realizes that She wants to be important and She wants to be special and She wants to be queen so she has a bit of a period where she resents aerion for being a second son of a fourth son (!) and kind of goes well i shouldve married valarr or matarys or even daeron more out of a childish belief that she's owed something that stems from being raised the way she was. her and aerion end up bickering a lot but eventually settle into some kind of acceptance and eventually a fondness for each other in the way only two freaks of nature can . <3

at court she meets odessa dayne (oc + art by chloe), who's betrothed to valarr - they become bestiesss and form a very weird very complicated vaguely homosexual relationship that i don't know how to summarize but i think in some way myrielle ends up wishing she could be odessa's husband . doesn't know how to put words to her feelings that are so different from what she should feel (attraction to a woman) that she ends up kind of taking on a role of makeshift caretaker in the way a husband would - especially when valarr dies later on and odessa is kind of left in the dust at court in favor of her son. myrielle in my mind of much much more fond of her than odessa is of her by virtue of being the kind of person who makes up a complex made up version of their relationship in her mind .

she marries aerion around 208 and instead of being sent off to lys in 209 after the tourney of ashford meadow he's kind of put on house arrest a bit - aerion, myrielle and odessa end up in dorne when the great spring sickness hits (odessa has family business and myrielle + aerion end up tagging along because they have nothing better to do) . valarr dies in 209 and myrielle's dad dies in 210 right before myrielle gives birth to twins anddd well i'll cut the timeline off there for now . sorry anon i could go on for way too long .

she has twin sons with aerion in 210, one of which like in canon aerion insists they name maegor (kid on the left in the first img) and to match she names the other aenys (kid on the right) . funny . by this time given that odessa had a surviving son with valarr she ends up becoming a bit jealous . my son/s should rule etc even if they're like number 234923 in line . raises them to be resentful and ambitious which works for aenys who becomes exactly like she wants but not maegor who ends up being very gentle and kind and trusting . get it.. its funny because theyre like their namesakes but reversed

when she gets a little older myrielle more actively pursues the idea of being queen because these targs just will not stop dying. by the time maekar becomes king she begins to make more and more attempts at convincing aerion to get rid of daeron in advance and really really pushes hard for him to consider himself heir and because he's kind of batshit it works . a strong sense of entitlement between the both of them and a belief that he'd do a better job than daeron when the time comes (very doubtful).

errr.. well in an ideal world in her mind they kill daeron and maekar dies and aerion is crowned after which she also ends up killing him when she gets sick of him or he gets a little older and less nice to look at and one of their sons gets the throne. errr . of course it doesn't end that well . but that's about what i have so far we'll get more in depth one day . <3

#thank u for listening . again!#i like her a lot but the dunk and egg era timeline is going to make me fucking freak it.#why is valarr's birth year listed as Somewhere in this NINE YEAR TIMESPAN #horrendous . anyway .#oc tag #txt #asks #asoiaf #asoiaf oc #dunk and egg #gerold lannister #tybolt lannister

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