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hannahssimblr · 4 months

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Chapter One

2013

“Come on, pick it up, let’s go. Go go go!” Our feet thunder over the ground. It’s been so dry this August that the soil has become cracked and dusty, and when I stop to catch my breath, a bead of sweat rolls off the tip of my nose and darkens the ground in front of me. Rosie the border collie runs excited loops around me while I gasp for air. She has ten times more stamina than I do, in fact I’m sure she could complete this run five times and still have energy for another round.

Shane is roaring at me again. “Evie! Come on! Hurry up.” He’s jogging on the spot in a sweat soaked t-shirt, but looks fine, comparatively, to how I’m sure I must look. I lower my elbows to my knees and try to take a deep breath, but it hurts my lungs. “I taste blood.” I say.

“You can do it! Just up to the next field. Get up!”

“I don’t respond well when people shout at me.” I protest between raspy pants. “I know that probably works for you and all but it makes me feel like crying.”

“Alright.” He says. “Let’s just try and reach the wall then, and we can walk back.”

I peer up at the stone wall that separates this field from the next and guess that it’s only another hundred metres. Maybe I can do it. Reluctantly, I straighten up and start running, or rather, limping. Rosie barks like she’s cheering me on, and I wonder if perhaps, like me, she can’t believe I’m still going. I hobble past Shane but he catches up to me with insulting ease. “Come on.” He says with a gentler, more encouraging tone. “Keep going, just focus on the wall.” And I do, I look at it, the uneven stone bricks jostling around in my vision until it’s right there within my reach, and I launch myself at it triumphantly, hanging onto the top of it as my body crumples to the ground.

“Watch out for the cow shit there.” He says, but I don’t see, nor care about any cow shit. My breaths are wheezing out of me and my hot forehead presses up against the stone. He gets down on his haunches and pats me on the back. “Well done.”

“I used to run… so much… further than this… back when I was at school.” I manage.

“I know, but you’ll get back to that level again soon.”

“You’re barely out of breath.”

“Yeah ‘cause I do this stuff six days a week.”

I spin around so my back is against the wall instead and look at him. Sometimes I forget that he’s a man now, as though our familiarity has made me blind to the fact that he grew up into this enormous mountain of a person and is no longer the gawky teenage boy I used to know. He grew up. We all grew up. When did that happen? I remember him as a small child, chubby and freckle faced, always giving out to Kelly and I about something, whether it was to force us off the Wii because he had decided it was his turn (it never was) or to get out of the treehouse their dad had built, because he had suddenly enacted a strict no girls policy. Now it’s hard to see any resemblance between that little boy and this huge, six foot man with arms and legs the width of tree trunks. Only the small featured face would give it away, the same thin lips and sharp little nose as his sister.

When we were children I could have outrun Shane Healy any day. He was short and stout until he was thirteen, but I shot up to five foot three when I was only ten, and I was always athletically inclined, try as he might, he could never catch me with any worm he intended to drop down the back of my t-shirt, I was quick like lightning. Long and thin. His mother Caroline still calls me Beanstalk now, even though I eventually grew into all my limbs and ended up being about the average height for a girl, and Shane eventually outran me too.

I never was very good at team sports like he was as it turns out. I focussed on things like swimming, tennis, and running and long jumping at the local athletics club rather than getting picked last for some game of basketball in PE, where the girls who didn’t like me tossed the ball past my outstretched hands, assuming that I must be bad at sports just because I was quiet. I played hurling in fourth class, because we all had to learn how, but aside from that and a few forced games of rounders with the other girls at school, I don’t know very much about the GAA, while Shane has more or less dedicated all of his free time to it, especially now that he’s been placed on the senior football team, and as I sit there on the dirt on that hot August day, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m not even sure how to ask him about it.

Rosie starts licking my face, and I push her snout away from me. Once I’ve caught my breath a little I ask him. “How’s the football going?”

“Yeah, good.”

“Do you, like, have any matches or anything coming up?”

He laughs. “Why, do you want to go?”

“I don’t know, maybe, like. I haven’t gone to one in a few years.”

“Since you had to, like?”

I shrug. Not since Kelly made me, and I used to sit in the stands drawing pictures of the sides of spectators faces, reading a book or doing other things that were unacceptable and strange. Somehow I feel that now my presence at a match would be more unacceptable and even stranger as my time at art college has only pushed me further away from what is considered normal in a town like Tullamore. The sort of place where the sight of a man wearing skinny jeans would induce a torrent of homophobic slurs from a car window.

“You were in the papers a while ago.” I prompt. “For scoring a few points in a match, or something.”

“The match that got us knocked out of the quarter finals, yeah.” He says grimly. “I’ll be in no more now until after the All-Ireland, so you may wait.”

“I’ll go to the next.”

“Will you now.” He wears a disbelieving smirk, and I know that it doesn’t really matter to him whether I go or not, but it has felt strange to me this last year that he and I have become close, in our own way, and yet we have shown next to no interest in each other’s hobbies.

I stand up on trembling legs and swipe dirt off my backside so we can begin our trek back to his house. Shane and Rosie jog on ahead a little bit, still bounding with energy, but eventually, I can tell he feels a little badly about how far I am trailing behind them and circles back around to walk with me.

We walk serenaded by the birds in the trees and the distant sound of a lawnmower, and I know that Shane likes it like this, quiet, but still I am compelled to say something to fill the silence. “Do you ever wish you could get paid for playing football?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Yeah the whole time. To be honest sometimes I wish I’d gotten good at Rugby instead, like, at least then I’d be able to make a living off of it.”

“With only a few traumatic head injuries to show for it.”

“True.”

“You’d really want to play football all the time, and train forever and do only that?”

“Yeah it’s what I want the most. I love it.”

I feel a bit sad, because I imagine a life where nobody paid people to make art, and my hobby would just be forever just that. A hobby, never a career. At least there’s a chance for me to make it, if I get good enough, someone will pay me for my work, but Shane is twenty two and already better than he’ll ever be, and besides a few sponsorship deals from local shops, he’ll never make money this way.

“So.” He says conclusively. “I suppose I’ll be a pharmacist or something.”

“That’s what you want to do after you’re done college this year? Be a pharmacist?”

“Dunno. Could be a chemist either.”

Rosie starts running towards an open gate down toward a farmer’s lane and Shane yelps and takes off after her. This is one of the deepest conversations we’ve ever had.

Beginning // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #weeeeee #i'm so excited about this part #it was like my magnum opus tbh #being dramatic but you get me #also i discovered reshade here so it starts to look better

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months

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Vine_Boom.mp3

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #song lan #a-qing #xiao xingchen #xue yang #The scene where Song lan sees Xue Yang is supposed to be dark and dramatic but there's something about the whiplash of emotions-#-that makes me lose my mind!! That's *HIS* bestie!!! Back off bitch!!#Poor guy wandering around for years looking for his amiguito only to find him with the guy that split you apart in the first place #XY wasn't even trying to flaunt it on purpose. He was just vibing with XXC at the wrong time.#I also love A-qing for being quick on the uptake that these two are so similar its practically like a mirror image.#This also mirrors song lan's first/last appearance with the bff sundae. XY finally gets his revenge (having a domestic life with a bff).#((XXC has no idea what the t-shirt says. He just needed a spare. I like to think XY sewed and embroidered it personally))#I will get into my xue yang thoughts more later but...man I will always wonder how things would have gone if song lan never showed up #xxc never should have run away (out of shame for causing SL harm). It was always going to cause more harm...#Dont worry SL. XXC still misses you. Some bonds cannot be broken even if time and distance pull you apart.

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divorcedfiddleford · 8 months

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and you may say to yourself: "my god! what have i done?" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful wife!" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful house!" and you may ask yourself: "well, how did i get here?"

time isn't holding up, time isn't after us, time is a pony ride! (images described in alt text)

#gravity falls #fiddleford mcgucket #LETTING THE [FIDDLEFORD FRI]DAYS GO BY #“sir it's tuesday” i know. my computer has been busted for two weeks so i couldn't post them when i wanted to. just let me have this #again still new to alt text. i like being a little bit silly but let me know if it gets in the way of accessibility #artwork of the damned #uhhhh yeah this is actually something ive kind of wanted to draw for years now #favorite guy + favorite band = prime high-effort meme material #also. for the record. yes i have a mcgucket playlist. yes it has three talking heads songs on it. no none of them are “once in a lifetime”#also also i know that the lyrics in the description are in the wrong order. it's on purpose. i put them backwards for dramatic effect #also also also i'm pretty sure the “time is a pony ride” line is not actually sung on the album version of the track #but if you listen to/watch the live version from “stop making sense” you will hear it!#as well as hear a much more satisfying ending to the song imo. rather than it just fading out it has some really nice vocals #basically the moral of this story is you should watch “stop making sense”#if you made it to the end of the tags: congrats! you win a prize! the prize is permission to reblog this post

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bugflies00 · 2 years

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in a month or in five years; i’ll be waiting

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hbdttg · 1 year

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Part 1 / tag list below the cut

“I’m quitting,” Eddie declares, “I’m out. Call me a tree, ‘cause I’m leaving. Call me a banana, ‘cause I’m splitting. T-t-t-t-that’s all, folks!” he adds, doing his best impression of Porky Pig’s signature stammering.

Chrissy’s laser focus doesn’t stray from her monitor, even when Eddie bodily throws himself into the chair across her desk with a long, strangled groan. Wordlessly, she raises her left index finger at him in a silencing gesture. With her brows furrowed in concentration, she drags her mouse around on its pad and double-clicks something on her screen before nodding decisively to herself. After another few clicks, she finally lowers her finger, raises her eyes, and meets Eddie’s gaze.

“Would you mind grabbing what I just printed? Please?” she asks, smiling at him imploringly.

Chrissy could ask Eddie to bleach his hair and shave off an eyebrow and he’d do it. She’s actually who he has to thank for landing such a cushy job with HHH—a referral from a trusted associate like her goes a long way in a place like this.

And despite Eddie’s many complaints about becoming a corporate sellout, he can’t deny that it certainly has its perks. The office is only a ten-minute commute from his apartment, the compensation agreement he signed amounted to more money than his last two jobs combined, his benefits package is frankly ridiculous, and he gets to work with one of his best friends in the world. Overall, not a bad gig.

Even so, he makes a show of sighing, loud and longsuffering, before doing as Chrissy asks, leaving her office to grab her job off the printer. Eddie knows she works in HR and some of her stuff can get pretty confidential, so he doesn’t even try to skim the contents of the page as he walks it back over to her.

“Here,” he says, thrusting the paper at Chrissy facedown.

“Thanks!” she says. She makes no moves to take it from him. “That’s for you, actually.”

Curious, Eddie takes the paper back and flips it over. In the center of the page is a graphic of safety sign one might find in a cartoon factory, though Chrissy had edited the original from “[___] Days Since Last Accident” to “[___] Days Since Eddie Last Threatened to Quit His Job”. There’s a big red zero in the counter box.

Eddie tries to glower down at Chrissy, but it’s sort of hard to maintain when she bursts into laughter. It’s been years, but the sound of Chrissy laughing like this, all bright and breathless and unrestrained, never fails to transport him back to his (third) senior year of high school, when they first became friends over a failed drug deal.

“Don’t be cute,” Eddie says with a laughable lack of authority, dropping heavily back down into the chair.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Chrissy counters, brow raised archly.

Eddie rolls his eyes, crumpling the page into a ball and lobbing it in between them.

Chrissy lets the ball land harmlessly on her desk before sweeping it into the trashcan by her feet. “Just so you know, I’ve had that saved on my desktop since Monday—and I haven’t had to edit the days count a single time.”

Eddie scoffs, but it’s hard to defend himself when this current visit marks the fifth day in a row he’s floundered into her office, vainly announcing his resignation. “Yeah, well,” he says weakly, “printing it seems like a gross misuse of company resources.”

“What are you going to do, report me?” Chrissy says with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“Let me guess: you’re the one who receives those reports?” Eddie says dryly.

“Yep!” she says cheerfully. “Now, go on and tell me about your latest trainwreck of an interaction with Steve Harrington.”

“Christ, Chris!” Eddie hisses, leaping to his feet and immediately spinning around to check if anyone was around to hear her damning words. The coast is clear, luckily, but he still scrambles to shut her office door before falling back into his chair. “You can’t just go around saying his name all willy-nilly.”

“He’s not gonna suddenly appear if you say his name three times, Eddie. See, watch. Steve. Steve. St—”

“Don’t risk it!” Eddie squawks loudly, cutting her off.

“You’re an absolute mess,” she says through a laugh, shaking her head at him.

And well, Chrissy’s not wrong.

Eddie’s been a mess since Monday morning, when he unknowingly produced, directed, and starred in The Roast of Steve Harrington. He blames his shitty memory for forgetting what floor his new office was on—if he’d known he was sharing the elevator with someone he could have potentially worked with (let alone someone whose surname made up a third of the company name), he wouldn’t have opened his big, fat mouth in the first place.

When he finally gathered the courage to make it back down to the fifty-second floor and show his face at the HHH office, he kicked off his onboarding with Chrissy with a strangled, “I know it’s my first day and I technically just started ten minutes ago, but I quit. Thank you for the opportunity and good-bye forever.”

Chrissy, the traitor, spent a full five minutes laughing in his face over his shamefully recounted story before patting him twice on the head and informing him he wasn’t allowed to quit for at least six months. The overly saccharine tone of her voice alone told Eddie there was no room for argument there.

Still, that didn’t stop him from following her into her office after the all-hands meeting on Tuesday, all the while whining in her ear, “I can’t thrive in these conditions, Chrissy. Please, I beg of you—accept my sincere and humble resignation from this cursed hellscape.”

‘These conditions’ consisted of any rooms and/or conversations that contained Steve Harrington. Eddie hadn’t been expecting to see the guy doting over the catering when he walked into the conference room that afternoon, and he certainly wasn’t expecting his supervisor and trainer, Murray, to lead him over to Steve to introduce the two of them (though that was likely just an excuse to head straight for the sandwiches that were laid out for the meeting).

While Eddie choked on his own tongue trying to spit out some generic, inoffensive greeting, Steve merely watched him with an amused smirk before thrusting his hand out and offering a perfectly friendly “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie, I’m Steve”, as if Eddie didn’t have Steve’s name and face (and stupidly fit body—who the fuck looks that good in a pair of khakis?!) burnt into his memory from the day prior.

Afterward, Murray, who most assuredly did not have a filter of any kind, bluntly commented on Eddie’s awkwardness, then spent the next five minutes trying to determine if it was normal, strangers-meeting-for-the-first time awkwardness, or something more sensational. Eddie stubbornly kept his mouth shut until the meeting started.

Wednesday followed a similar pattern, with Eddie flouncing into Chrissy’s office with a dramatic “I choose to break my blood oath. At this point I’d welcome the sweet release of death if it meant I didn’t have to work here anymore.”

Chrissy just corrected him, patiently explaining that he was employed at-will, rather than by blood oath, and that if he left before his sixth month, she’d personally skin him alive. Eddie had to pause and weigh the pros and cons of being skinless. Surely it couldn’t be worse than his latest exchange with Steve—via email this time, mercifully.

He’d just learned how to field helpdesk tickets and received one from Steve Harrington himself. It was a simple enough software request ticket, so he assigned it to himself and replied with next steps, asking Steve for a code so he could remote into his computer and install the program.

Steve replied back, asking where he was supposed to find the code. It was an innocuous enough question, but then Eddie noticed something a little off about his email signature: his last name was bolded.

Eddie ignored it, assuming it was a stylistic choice—nothing to read into, surely—but then Steve sent another email shortly after to let him know to disregard his last email; he’d found the right app and was just waiting for it to generate a code. This time, Harrington was bolded and at least two sizes bigger than his first name.

Then, in Steve’s third email, sent not a minute later with the requested code, Harrington was bolded, two sizes bigger than his first name, and highlighted yellow—a tactic Chrissy found so hilarious that she had to shoo Eddie out of her office with tears in her eyes so that she could compose herself and actually get some work done.

Thursday was a blessed reprieve from Steve’s unique brand of psychological warfare, but Eddie still somehow managed to royally humiliate himself in front of him. After he slunk into her office and silently pushed a scribbled-on napkin across her desk—

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as Systems Analyst II at HHH, effective immediately. Effective yesterday. In fact, I’ll pay you back the entirety of my wages earned if we just forget I ever worked here.

—Chrissy tutted at him sympathetically before taking the napkin and reaching over to dab it at the large wet stain on his shirt.

He’d been walking back to his desk from the breakroom when he rounded a corner and bumped into Steve in the hallway. Literally bumped into, bodily contact and surprised yelps and everything. And it probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal, really, if not for the fact that he had a newly refilled mug of coffee in his hand.

“Eddie, oh my god, are you okay?”

No, Eddie wasn’t okay, because he just splashed himself with hot fucking coffee and now Steve Harrington was worriedly fussing over him and tentatively trying to mop up the liquid with his own fucking hands for some reason, and he was embarrassed (and a little turned on?) and he had to get the fuck out of there now.

“I’m okay, sorry, it’s fine—” he managed to squeak before whirling around and scurrying to the bathroom.

So yes, Eddie’s been an absolute mess the past few days, and today is no different.

…Actually, scratch that. Today is different. Today is worse.

“Okay, now spill,” Chrissy says. “What happened?”

With another drawn-out, pitiful groan, Eddie sinks down in his seat and lets his neck hang off the backrest, blinking up at the ceiling.

“Talk to me, Eds,” Chrissy says, concern starting to bleed into her voice. “If he’s actually bullying you, you can file a complaint. I have a form here somewhere.”

Eddie hears her open one of her desk drawers and reluctantly sits up. “He’s not bullying me, Mom,” he says with a huff. “We actually…we talked.”

“You talked?” Chrissy asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, about the elevator. Buried the hatchet and everything. I said sorry, we laughed about it, it’s over and done with.” Eddie’s gaze darts around Chrissy’s desk, searching for something to distract him from the warm and fuzzy feeling growing in his stomach at the memory of their conversation.

“That’s great, I’m so proud of you!” Chrissy says cheerfully. “But wait, if you two are good now…”

Eddie doesn’t want her to ask what she’s about to ask, because the answer might be more embarrassing than all of his other Steve stories combined.

“Why are you still going on about quitting?”

Eddie drops his face into his hands, feeling totally and utterly pathetic. “Um, because I think I’m sort of, kind of, just a little bit…in love with him?”

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tbh I didn’t think I’d be writing a second part, but if strangers on the internet validate me enough, I guess I’ll do anything~

Y’ALL. I’m blown away by the response to part one of this silly lil au. I didn’t reply to any of the lovely comments or tags, but please know if you engaged in any way (or even if you just read the fic and snorted a little through your nose at a bit you found funny) I love you with my entire heart and you’ve made my entire life.

[Now for the tag list, which I’ve never done before. Sorry if you didn’t actually want to be on here! Or, sorry if you’re stumbling upon this post on your own after asking to be tagged and I missed you oops.]

@messrs-weasley @n0-1-important @bornonthesavage @thing-a-ling @eddiemunsonswife @changenamelater @ispyblu @thesuninyaface

@invisibleflame812 @4nemo1egend @ikolanatari @mavernanche @songbird-garden @trashpocket @original-cypher @over7joyed

@commonxsenss @justdyingontheinside @mojowitchcraft @maya-custodios-dionach @justmiiriam @imzadidragonfly @lillemilly @gay-stranger-things @child-of-cthulhu @bleedingoptimism @lemanzanabizarra @melaniehere91

@iswearitsjustme @silver-snaffles @csinnamon-fox @paint-music-with-me @epicsteddieficrecs @sweetcreaturetm @hxneyfarms @bossyknow-it-all @vecnuthy @stevethehairington @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @nburkhardt

@gayngerthings @patchworkgargoyle @violetsteve @henderdads @2btheanswertothequestion

#stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #modern office au #corporate steddie au #platonic hellcheer #okay obviously eddie's not actually in love with steve #in this au he's a dramatic bitch on top of being a cringe fail loser boy and it's so delightful to me #when he says 'in love with' he means in that superficial infatuated way you sometimes get #when you're suddenly super into someone you don't actually know #let him liiiive #fic writing #hbd

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deoidesign · 20 days

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I've been told my comic feels like it was written by AI.

I suppose I'm not trying to be groundbreaking. I'm not interested in pioneering genres. I'm not writing for the purpose of literary analysis.

But written by AI...?

I'm already someone who has my humanity questioned. My identity erased. My existence disrespected. It could be worse. Anything could be worse.

But AI?

I spend weeks writing single scenes, toiling over the implications of single lines. I have goals. My writing has intent.

If you cared to read deeper, perhaps you'd see the themes. Maybe then you'd see the value. If you tried to analyze it maybe you'd see something there.

Maybe you'd see me.

Someone told me my comic seemed like it was written by AI.

And my humanity was denied one step further in that my voice was not seen in the work I've poured years of my life into.

#this is a comment that has bothered me for... a long time.#it really sat with me.#its insulting of course...#but i get insults all the time #thats not what bothered me.#there was something more to it #something more to how this hurt my feelings and why it lingered so long in my mind #and i think its because of this.#it removes me. it removes my humanity.#in a world where i already feel so invisible and invalidated #where i express myself. my love. through my work #to be told it seems like something a literal robot coild make #a conglomeration of marketable ideas #god. jts so insulting on a completely other level.#its straight up dehumanizing #so. watch the things you say seem like ai #when its actually made by an artist #especially if you know that it was made bh someone #they have a heart an theyre trying to show it to you #i know its not that deep or whatever.#but isnt it?#isnt the point of our art to connect to others? to love them? to spend time with them??#im being dramatic #but i also care #and sometimes a little extra drama is what gets my ideas across.#i would know #im a writer

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avephelis · 3 months

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evil artstyle chippy if i have to touch another gradient in the next week i'm throwing hands

#okay i'm being dramatic it was a fun challenge #thankyou everyone who sent traits #evil art style challenge #jrwi #jrwi chip #chip jrwi #jrwi riptide #avepharts #it's all fun and games until you get to colouring and everything is gradients and blur. my fucking texture.#anyway ermm technically busts aren't dynamic poses and NOTHING SAID I COULDN'T TEXTURE THE BACKGROUND OKAY. leave me alone

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exy-shmexy · 10 months

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HC that three years after Neil goes pro, some ardent Riko fanatic tries to shoot him while he is driving his beloved peanut of a car. The car is ruined but it protected him nonetheless and the guy is arrested. Andrew drags Neil to the nearest concession to get him a massive bulletproof SUV that Neil instantly hates because “it’s too fucking big Andrew” but Andrew has suddenly acquired the ability to be deaf to any of Neil’s complaints. That’s how Neil finds himself with a cargo of a car that he absolutely despises driving and he very bitterly regrets his old rolling tin can. Driving it around is a nightmare, let alone PARKING it, he has to hop off the driver’s seat otherwise he’s stuck and that thing drinks gas like Kevin used to swallow down vodka.

#Brought to you by me being forced to drive my dad’s tank of a car instead of my little blue baby to get the groceries #and also because I very much enjoy being dramatic #anyway I lost ten years of my life driving this thing around for twenty minutes #neil josten #andrew minyard #aftg #all for the game #aftg headcanon

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gilmores-glorious-blog · 6 months

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me on a regular basis

#listen. it’s not that i don’t like the lifespan angst. bring on the lifespan angst.#it’s just that i don’t think the lifespan angst means they should break up #it just feels so superficial to me and i think they love each so deeply that they would end a relationship just bc is caleb getting older #*wouldn’t #that being said i like the idea of caleb trying to break up with essek and be all dramatic about it like “i’m sparing you the heartbreak”#or whatever #and then essek is just like. ‘no ❤️’#critical role #shadowgast #eli.posts

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millenianthemums · 1 month

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parents of disabled kids will be like “we know our kid is disabled but we just won’t tell them about it. we don’t want them to think they’re less valuable than other kids. we don’t want them to feel limited by their disability, we want them to know they’re capable of anything.”

meanwhile those kids are growing up thinking “why is everything so much harder for me than it is for everyone else? there’s no reason i shouldn’t be able to just do this. i guess i’m just a failed, broken person.”

#text post #ableism #like if you don’t want to get your kid diagnosed with something then that’s one thing #but not KNOWING what’s wrong with them isn’t gonna make the problem just magically disappear #and just personally speaking. SO MANY things i do that i used to feel such deep shame about?#i now realize they were because i’m autistic #the meltdowns the social awkwardness etc #and i feel so much better to know i wasn’t just being whiny or difficult or weird for no reason #i feel like my whole life i’ve been gaslighted into not knowing what i really feel #because everyone always told me i was being ‘dramatic’ or ‘too sensitive’ and eventually i decided they must be right #so now i literally can’t tell what i’m feeling sometimes #because i dismiss my own feelings as stupid and wrong

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platykool · 9 months

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im back

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #nikolai gogol #bsd fanart #my art #what do you mean I wasn't gone #but I think it's been a while since I've posted anything #I'm slowly getting back to making elaborate drawings in color and all not just doodles #well these are doodles but #It's been a long time since I've really allowed myself to take the time to properly draw #I didn't have the time to really get seriously into it because of school #the school drained me of all my vital energy I'm not even being dramatic this time ugh #uuuh it's been a rude end of school year but now I have time #I will be able to rest and I really want to get back into drawing #the motivation is slowly coming back I think #so have these for now ! I'll post some other stuff later #take care everyone <3<3

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beanghostprincess · 2 months

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Sanji kisses Usopp while he is still in his Sogeking suit once and when Luffy and Chopper see it they start panicking and yelling furiously at Sanji because they think he's cheating on Usopp

#the whole thing about these two not knowing usopp is sogeking will never not be hilarious to me #also. usopp never tells them that they're wrong. he just starts being dramatic and saying #'WHAT?! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU HAD A BOYRFRIEND???'#and sanji laughs at first but then luffy gets genuinely angry at him and he has to kick usopp in the head to put some sense into him #'joke's over now you go tell our captain i am no cheater or there are no more upside down kisses for you'#one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso #monkey d. luffy #tony tony chopper

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i-d-e-g-a-f · 17 days

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i ache for katara so deeply, she deserves so much better than her canon fate. i cannot express in words how much her story and how the fandom views/treats her physically hurts me

#anti kataang #katara deserved better #i know she’s a fictional character so ppl can say think and feel however they want about her and it the end of the day it shouldn’t matter #cus she’s not real but i just feel for her so deeply it hurts #katara my beloved #katara #katara my best friend who i have a DEEP parasocial relationship with i will always be on your side #they can never make me hate you #WE COULDVE HAD IT ALL #yes i’m being dramatic but also 100% serious #truly my favorite character of all time and she has been done wrong not only by the writers but by the fans too lord give her a break #i need her to get justice so bad against bryke and everyone who speaks ill on her #god please take all her suffering and give it to bryke #am i being hyperbolic right now?#your guess is as good as mine #zutara #for exposure ig #anti bryke

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imthursdaysyme · 7 months

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When you gotta use your homie as a blanket, stobin edition

#stranger things #steve harrington #drawing #art #digital art #robin buckley #stobin #fall witchy vibes are here #and they are here to stay #I love the idea of them being like oh fuck no blankets #and instead of just oh I dunno going to the closet to find more they’re like guess that means you’re my blanket #robins like no you’re MY blanket and Steve’s like darling love of my life I will crush you #you won’t be breathing #and you will also overheat #and she’s like oooooh fuck that’s right you’re a fucking heater #so if I lay on you I get enough heat to sleep but more importantly I don’t die #and Steve watches as she pauses and grows increasingly worried and he’s right for ut cause she sighs all dramatic and goes #okay but like what if I want you to just crush the shit out of me #what I I want that #and Steve’s like jfc NO IM NOT MURDERING YOU #and robs like YOU WOULDNT MURDER ME ID BE ALIVE I SWEAR ID SURVIVE YOUR ATTEMTPS AT SUFFOCATION I NEED TO BE CRUSHED #and Steve’s like NO FUCK THAT #and then they wrestle like children #and agree that Robin with be the blanket but with the stipulation that he holds her very tightly #so his arms over her and he was trying his best to crush minimally #and she was so happy #but she woke up with a crick in her neck and bitched so long about it #and forced Steve to be her blanket cause fair is fair #and she lasted five minutes before she was wheezing #and Steve’s like okay fuck you first of all and second of all I tOLD YOU SO

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petite-phthora · 8 months

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This yours?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 12]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Somewhere else, in a seemingly abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, a figure shrouded in darkness and wearing a dark cloak plots.

In front of them is a whiteboard. It’s covered in pictures, sticky notes, and illegible texts. Some of the notes thrown about that are legible are ‘fight…’, ‘draw blood.’, and ‘DEATH!!!’.

There’s a crude stick figure drawn in the corner of the board, it’s impaled. Other small doodles can also be found all around the board.

Most of the information and pictures are connected by red strings, like you see in movies.

In the middle is a picture of 2 people sitting on a motorcycle, the arms of the person sitting in the back are around the waist of the person sitting in the front. The picture has some arrows pointing towards it and the people in the picture are very obviously circled.

Though the face of the person driving the motorcycle is obscured by their helmet, the other person seems to be heavily blushing and grinning broadly.

“Yes… yes! That’s it! I know what to do…” They seem to be speaking to themselves.

Quickly, the person scribbles down a barely legible ‘sacrifice!!‘.

They start cackling.

“Mwuahaha!”

It’s an evil laugh they’ve been working on for quite a while now, and they’re pretty proud of it.

However, the effect is slightly ruined when a fly enters their mouth, cutting off their cackling with choking as they gasp for air, grasping at their throat.

A few good thumps against their chest, with some coughing out their lungs, helps them dislodge the fly from their throat and they spit it out on the ground. They take a few deep breaths before straightening up again.

“Curse you” the person exclaims, angrily waving their fist at the fly as it flies away.

---

Bruce’s face gives off nothing as he stares at the streets down below. He’s dressed as Batman, crouched at the edge of a building with Damian by his side as Robin. Spoiler, Black Bat, Nightwing, and Red Robin are further back on the rooftop.

They watch in silence as another group of the Joker’s goons passes by. They’ve been all over the city, wandering around, not doing anything obviously illegal.

They don’t stay in one place and they don’t seem to have much of a purpose. No attacks… No stealing… No smuggling or transport of goods… No, instead they’re inspecting every single inch of the city.

They don’t seem to have any weapons on them. All they’re carrying on them are some flashlights. While most don’t give anything away with their body language or expressions, some seem to give off a bit of anxious energy.

Spoiler claimed she even saw some of them climb down into the sewers earlier and then climbing out again sometime later somewhere else, but this time ‘dejected and stinky’.

One thing seems clear to the Bats.

They’re searching for something… or someone.

“This basically confirms that not even the Joker’s henchmen know where he is. He’s missing.”

“I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing”

“Good… thing?”

“It’s… something. That’s for sure.”

“We don’t know if he’s really missing. For all we know it could be a trap. What if the Joker is hiding, pretending to be missing to have us bring our guard down? Besides, how could he be missing? He’s the Joker. No one’s just gonna kidnap him”

“For all we know he could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere”

“I highly doubt that”

“Everyone, focus” Bruce speaks up, having them draw their attention to him.

“It’s unclear whether the Joker is simply hiding away or missing. Instead of focusing on the why, we need to focus on the where. Missing or not, we need to find him and get him back to Arkham. Oracle, have you managed to find out anything from the footage yet?”

“Nope, still nothing. All the files from the moment he enters Crime Alley are wiped and any attempt at recovering them only brings back corrupted files.”

“We need Red Hood. Where is he?” Bruce asks.

“He still has his phone on silent and he has removed the trackers and cams. We haven’t placed any new ones on him yet”

“Let’s visit him on his turf then. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the meantime. Oracle, try recovering the missing files. If that doesn’t work, go back to the breakout footage. Perhaps he left some kind of clues about his plans or whereabouts behind there.” Bruce states.

“Roger that.”

---

Red Hood has his arms by his sides as he gazes down upon the street below from the rooftop of a random apartment building in Crime Alley.

He’s lucky to have avoided the Bats so far. But he doubts his luck will last for long.

Red Hood stiffens as he suddenly feels something clamp down on his arm. As a reflex, his other hand has already drawn his gun.

He slowly raises the arm he felt something clamp down on and looks at it, only to make eye contact with a girl with black hair and blue eyes who has sunk her teeth into his arm and is now hanging off of it.

The teeth are sharp, as the girl seems to have some small fangs. They’ve gone through his jacket and sunken into his skin.

It doesn’t really hurt all that badly though, probably hasn’t even drawn much blood, and that’s one of the only reasons Jason hasn’t flung the kid off of him yet. Another reason is the fact that it’s a kid.

They both stare at each other for several seconds.

As Jason takes her appearance in, he notices that she seems rather familiar. In fact, she looks like a more feminine version of Danny, or if Danny had a twin.

The person hanging off of his arm looks younger than Danny though, probably a teenager around 13 or 14, if he had to make a guess.

Slowly, he puts his gun away and takes out his phone with his other hand, watching the random girl’s eyes follow his movements. He raises it level with her face and snaps a picture, quickly sending it to Danny and ignoring the girl’s curious gaze while she’s still hanging onto his arm by her fucking teeth.

---

Meanwhile, Danny checks his phone to see Red Hood sent him a message. He opens it and is greeted by a picture of Ellie in human form biting down on Red Hood’s arm with the caption ‘this yours???’

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Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #Im wondering how easy/hard it is to guess who the person is #and also yes its supposed to have stereotypically comedic 'evil'/'villain' vibes #the person did that on purpose because they are dramatic and have style #also i aged ellie down a little from how old she *should* be cause i felt like it fit better #If you need a reason maybe she like ages a little bit slower due to being a clone or something idk #oh and i have a question for you all #should i make a masterpost??#i have like the very first chapter pinned but i feel like a masterpost might be better #especially cause like i already have 12 chapters and the story is only getting longer #damn this story has gone further than expected from a oneshot lol #it all started with me just tinking it'd be funny if like #a character was basically in shock but was still like nah I cant just kiss someone without consent lol #also I said id post like 5-6 chapters and this is still only like 6k :( i really need to write more ;-;#and also if y'all haven't noticed already #all I know of dc is through fanfics and fandom posts #though I really want to start reading the comics #i just haven't really had the time nor do I really know what's good and where to start #so like if anyone has any recommendations for dc/batfam comics they are more than welcome!! ^-^

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