#Stib

[plushbunbun-blog]

The amazing digital circus oc??? Maybe?

Stib! The cloud boy who never gets angry!

I just wanted a cute oc with silly looking head but those days everyone has a TV head oc

[phildekem]

Prochaine station / volgende station #stationshuman #metro #train #stib #mivb #brussels #brussel #bruxelles #clindoeil (à Bruxelles, Belgium) https://www.instagram.com/p/Co-DxPRNGPn/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[conatic]

Les tarifs de la Stib vont augmenter dès la rentrée : voici ce que vous devrez payer - La DH/Les Sports+

Source: dhnet

[finngualart]

i avoided this meme for years but, well, what am i even doing here if i dont draw it at least once?

[eek-a-tron]

Loki & Catwoman commission by the brilliant Debbie Balboa! (Somewhat inspired by this fic!)

[daily-sebastian-solace]

Day 4 - Seb board.. board Seb.. Stib orb.. Seb..

📑🪙📂 🐟 x 🌊 Divider 🦈🐚🪢

[jelloapocalypse]

Hello, Jello!!

As a fan of Epithet Erased for years, I wanted to ask what was the most shocking part of the series gaining a fandom? Was it the same as other projects you’ve worked on or is there any unique qualities to the fandom you’ve seen as its creator?

Hope you recover quickly and get the rest you need.

It was very strange going from "the guy who makes Welcome To/StiB" to "the guy who makes Epithet Erased" because Epithet is my own thing and thus people were able to engage with it on a creative level with fan content and stuff, whereas people knowing about my older parodies was pretty impersonal.

[kidron]

Could you write a sharing food headcanons or fic with Ryusei, Chifuyu, Baji and Kazutora ?

Sharing = caring

─Baji, Ryusei, Kazutora & Chifuyu (Seperated + platonic)

─Summary: Sharing food with someone / someone shares their food with them

─Warnings: Nope, unless you count grammer

★Baji

"come, Let's share this in half !"

─if there was a food, he would mostly offer it to share with those who he know/friends.

─the logic is if you had food and someone else near didn't then share it, give it or don't eat it till you're alone. He prefers the "share it" option.

─He's mostly the one to share his food with anyone, however if the person also likes sharing he would appreciate it.

─he was taught to respect food and never be disgust / rude if there was a thing he dislikes. He would mostly eat anything he dislike unless it was boiled food (Baji hates boiled food by canon).

─half in half, neither of you is going to have more than the other. If you tried to take more he will beat you unless you were hungry.

───────────────────────

It was an after school time, you were helping Baji to study for his next week chemistry exam. Either you were good or not at chemistry you for sure was better than him at studying so you helped in everything you understand. It was done now, he's abit confused and will most likley forget everything he learnt 5 minutes after the exam, however, he did his best and it's enough to pass.

As you was wandering around the school hallways lestening to him chicking on the things he studied today, your stomach growled, eating lunch at school wasn't something you liked after all. "You spent hours helping me to pass, i will payback with my best-Peyang-yakisoba-in-japan !!" He said as you stibbed out the school gate with the biggest grin untying his hair. Why not after all ?

The green sweet pepers wasn't that much of a taste personally, so avoiding them while eating the half ended up with him scolding you, however he made an order to eat one more bite of the Peyang nodels to make it actuall half in half -since you're not eating pepers-, he wasn't asking.

★Ryusei

"Oh no need to thank me for being so generous at all !"

─he usually use food to torture people till they throw up or looking like a bear preparing for hibernation... however he does share.

─he only share his food as a "i don't like this, you take it", being the person who doesn't show their feelings he is.

─mostly share only small things or give the entire thing, no between. Like giving the cherry on the plate or passing the whole thing.

─if you shared your desert with him you will regert it; Ryusei never stops. Your food ? Gone.

─if it was a about someone hungry things are diffrent, he's never giving anything unless he laughs enough.

───────────────────────

He dragged you to play football once he knew you're also interested in watching football matchs, not even bothering to ask either you can play or not, of course not wasting a single mistake to tell how bad you are. You were offered a strawberry Parfait with fruits topping at his family "Misami snacks" by him, Ryusei's Parfait was chocolete chips and cookies, something you liked more.

The fact that you mentioned prefering chocolates before makes it clear that he did all of this only to tease you not having something you liked. Bastard.

However he still offered you something nice, very harmless. so you shouldn't let him win on this one and decided to enjoy it simply, it's not a big deal... But that one Chocolate-coated marshmallow on the top looked amazing...

"May i have it, Please ?" with no longer patience asked with strict looks, as if it was the most serious topic -honestly seeing someone eating a food you like on purpose is serious reason to beat them up- "oh you want that ? Although you have yours ? How greedy ! Since you asked politley and i'm very generous guess i have no other chance of how kind i am~"

One is having a free Parfit and a beloved Chocolate-coated marshmallow, the other having his fun messing around, great success.

★Kazutora

"Oh... you can have this one then" :]

─If you give him, he gives you. He never thinks of sharing unless someone shared their food with him first.

─He's warmed by the idea by someone giving him apart of what they have, espcially if it was the half ( Kazu's effected by Baji ).

─He share the same amount as what you shared with him. if it was the half, he gives the half. if it was something small he liked like a fruit, he gives something small you liked... etc

─Wouldn't share the same plate tho or something that was bite ( like a crape or a sandwich ), neither sharing drinks, even if it was different straws. He refuses to take so to that refuse to give anything.

─it's about showing that the other care for him, not the food that is important. He have some struggles showing his feelings so in general, something undirect as sharing things is what he like.

───────────────────────

Both were sitting on the sidewalk, even though the sunset barley came down there wasn't much people around, mostly high school girls going home or gangsters fooling around. both shall go to their houses too, but only after finishing the corn cobs which was cut into pieces & slushies that was bought earlier.

Seeing that there was only one piece left on Kazu's plate beside the one he's already eating you took one of the two pieces of yours left and handled it to him.

"I ate too much but thanks !" He said with a wide smile just to put it on his paper plate taking the other piece of his handling it to you, there was no point of that since all the corns are the same. This is just how things work for both, it's not about the food, it's about showing care to the other.

His blue and green slushie looked cool, apples and blueberries, mostly color food but anyway, it's looks like the thing to freeze someones soul, nice... there was no way he will let your straw inter it to give it a try, unless you wanted to wash your face with the slushie and recive few punches.

★Chifuyu

"Hey you have to try this out !!"

─Offers to share first, doesn't actually want a return he just share, just don't eat it all.

─he mostly share when he find a new amazing flavor, so mostly it will be a snack from the store, a limited or a new version he tried.

─unlike Kazutora, he doesn't find espcially it as a way to show affection/care, he doesn't think much of it it's just an "if you want some of this you can have some of mine" just like what he did with Takemichi and the ramen. Yet he may use it if the current atmosphere is on tense.

─He shares the food that cats are allowed to eat with Peke-j, Baji scolded him saying that just because something isn't inedible to cats doesn't mean that it's always healthy for them. So now he's more carefull.

───────────────────────

You were at the Matsuno's family house in the guest room, his mom invited you earlier to eat dinner that she's curenntly making in the kitchen with Chifu introducing Peke-j. "Chifuyu ! Go to the store and buy tomato paste and red beans, The wallet is in my red bag !" His mom yelled from the kitchen. He went closing the door behind leaving the new guest to play with Peke-j.

"Do you need any help, Mrs. Chifuyu's mom ?" She thanked for your offer yet the response was "Go do something untill Chifuyu's back, i'm almost done with the dinner so nonworries", i hope that it's not a dish with texture that i can't handle.

Going to Chifuyu's room or play with Peke-J were Interesting options; so chosing both :].

You carried Peke-J as the baby sized he is to Chifuyu's room, wasn't that interesting indeed... there was a manga volume on the bed, Romance manga ? Too lame. Peke-J leaped to the ground so you followed to play, untill a chearfull vioce crossed the house, "I'm back !!" Chifuyu came so Peke-J was the first to go to him as ypu followed.

"I got you something" he whisperd after putting what his mom asked for, "what is it ?" Whispering back, there must be a reason for him whispering, of course. "I saw a grape flavored popping candy at the store and bought it, just keep quite or else mom's going to scold us for it" he finished whispering. The dinner is going to take quite abit so why not ?

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO EATING EVEN BEFORE DINNER ?!"

Oh no...

I thought of including Kojiro but i relized we don't know much about his canon personality, aw man...

Bye bye

[somewherebetweendisorder]

Hhhhnnn

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?”

[mint-flavoured-coffee]

@jelloapocalypse you don't have asks open, and I wanted to ask you about your STIB about Jjba. I wanted to know if you designed a stand for your fake Jo and her respective JoBro? I really like the designs and I wanna make art of them using stands and I was just wondering if you ever thought about what they looked like.

[somewhatclear]

something that would always be around

logue & vesta | 2k words

Logue didn’t feel much of a grown-up, when he had spent all day making a doll of his own brother because he was lonely.

a while ago, the lovely nubstarion came up with the headcanon that logue was the one making the little stib doll you can see on staeve's character sheet, and this is me running with it.

hope you enjoy my take on this bit of backstory for the brimstone siblings (posted with @velnna's permission ♥ as always, thank you!)

Edit: according to word of god ™️the brothers are about 13 and 17 here Edit 2 electric boogaloo: you can read it on ao3 now

He'd been putting the last stitches in the back of his Little Big Brother’s neck, to better secure his head to his body, when Logue’s actual big brother’s voice piped up from nowhere, startling him half to death.

“What have you got there, chickie?”

Nita often scolded him for being loud and attracting too much attention, but Vesta could be very silent when he wanted to be. He just didn't care to. Their sister sometimes didn't see that, but Logue did. He saw everything.

Well, almost everything. He hadn’t seen Vesta creeping from the side, just then.

Logue’s hand slipped. The needle went through his fingertip, and a tiny drop of blood welled up to the surface of his skin. He quickly lifted it out of the way and into his mouth — it didn't hurt, but he didn't want it to stain Little Big Brother. Not after all the effort he'd put in making him.

“Oh, shit.” Vesta was quick to crouch in front of him and grab his wrist, to check the damage. “Are you hurt? Let me see.”

Logue shook his head. He’d pricked himself a million times, it was fine.

“Are you sure?” Vesta grinned. “Don’t you want me to kiss it better?”

Logue rolled his eyes. 

Vesta snickered, raised his hands in mock-defeat. “Alright, alright, I know you’re all grown-up and crap now.”

Hearing those words made Logue wince. He didn’t feel much of a grown-up, when he had spent all day making a doll of his own brother because he was lonely. Abruptly self-conscious, he shifted the his little project off his lap, hoping Vesta wouldn’t—

“So, what have you been up to? You've been hiding down here forever.”

Logue sighed. Better get it over with.

He pulled the doll back onto his knees, finished to stab the last couple stitches in the fabric, secured the thread with a double knot and severed the excess with his teeth. Then he shoved it at Vesta, making a show of tidying up his sewing supplies while he waited for his brother’s reaction with trepidation.

Vesta was silent for an eternity, turning the toy over in his hands. 

“This is really well made,” he praised, quiet and careful.

Despite the embarrassment, a warm bubble of pride swelled in Logue’s chest. It didn’t look like much, but it had taken him a lot of time to put the thing together, from stealing the right fabrics and thread, to figuring out how to piece the parts together. He was glad he could always trust his brother to recognize his efforts.

“The little fella looks kind of familiar,” Vesta pointed out, raising the doll next to his face. The resemblance wasn't particularly uncanny; that hadn't been the goal and Logue wasn't that skilled a toy maker. But the colours were right, and the little bits of silvery thread he'd embroidered on its pointy little ears were the same number as Vesta's new earrings.

It definitely was a Little Big Brother, right there.

“I don't see it,” Logue quipped, very seriously. “His shirt is clean. Doesn't have holes. And he's more handsome.”

“You little—”

Vesta jumped him. Logue snickered as he got pinned down and playfully roughed up, then let out an actual shriek of laughter when his brother’s hands found their cold way under the hem of his shirt. He tried to swat them away from his vulnerable sides but Vesta always was a cheating cheater who cheated, and kept blowing raspberries onto the ticklish spots on his neck. Fits of twitching giggles made Logue’s legs into jelly.

They weren’t little kids anymore. Logue should have gotten angry at Vesta for still treating him like a baby, but he didn’t. He couldn't.

He'd been so excited when Nita had sent him on a supply run—he’d been looking forward to it. Finally, they thought he could take care of himself. They thought he could be trusted with the important stuff. He'd done so well the first time, Nita actually said she regretted not giving him things to do much earlier, and Logue could swear he’d grown taller by a handspan out of sheer, smug vindication.

He had always known he could do it; but he hadn't expected how miserable a time he was going to have, out there. He always excelled at sneaking around, at not being seen, not being heard. That had been his job, when he'd tagged along Vesta.

As soon as he stepped out of the shadows, his tongue tied itself up, and people looked at him, and he wished his brother was there.

If wishes were horses.

“Stop!” Logue wheezed, pretending he couldn't easily knock Vesta over if he wanted to. “Mercy!”

“We'll see!” The effect of his angry scowl was ruined by the laughter spilling from his lips. “Who's more handsome?”

Logue freed one shoulder from under Vesta, and gave him an exaggerated shrug.

“You're on thin fucking ice there, chickie.”

Vesta untangled them from the messy pile of limbs they had fallen into, and offered Logue a hand to help him sit up. He also saved Little Big Brother from the neglected corner he’d been knocked to during their tussling, and brushed dust off his miniature shirt and pants with a careful hand.

His shoulder pressed against Logue’s shoulder.

“Who's he for?” Vesta ran his fingers through Little Big Brother's thread hair, poked at the little ink freckles on his cheeks, pulled at the tiny ears. “A secret admirer of mine I don't know about?

Logue snorted, and shook his head.

“Wow, alright, rude. Planning to make a pretty copper selling cursed effigies for my exes, then?” He let his head drop against Logue’s shoulder. The warmth seeping through Logue’s shirt felt comforting. Solid. Safe. “I'm not stopping you, to be clear. If you are making good money I want a cut, though.”

Logue shook his head again. Took a deep breath. “Me.”

Vesta, the big silly, gasped dramatically and turned on him with big, round eyes and a wobbly lip. “You want to curse me?”

“No!” Logue scrunched up his nose and shoved him, stealing the doll from him. “He's. For me. For. Because. It’s. He's —”

Vesta’s hand came up to the nape of his neck, gripping gently. 

“Easy, chickie. Deep breath. Start over.”

Logue swallowed thickly, closed his eyes. “I have the words. It's just stupid,” he snapped, and elbowed his arm away. He was angry that Vesta was babying him now.

He frowned down at Little Big Brother’s little doll face, and found that he couldn’t keep it up. He was kind of cute. Logue had managed to keep the stitches around his applique grey eyes small and tidy, and you could barely tell they were sewn on at all. He didn’t quite have an expression, but it was charming and funny. Just like Vesta.

Logue took a deep breath. He started over.

“He’s for me. Because I miss you.”

“Oh, Logue.” Vesta wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in a hug, crushing him against his side and rubbing his shoulder. “Chickie, I'm not going anywhere.”

“I know that. It's just. It's been hard. Out.”

“Out,” Vesta said, wonderingly. “On the supply runs?”

Logue nodded.

Vesta hummed. “Too many people?”

Logue shrugged one-shouldered again, but he was relieved. Vesta got it, because he knew him—Nita loved him and she cared as much as Vesta did, Logue knew that, but she didn’t understand.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured Vesta before he could say anything—because Logue also knew his brother, and he could almost hear his brain click around the problem, looking at it from different directions, pulling it apart and putting it back, searching for a solution. “I’ll be fine, I just need to. Adjust.”

His hand accidentally twitched around Little Big Brother.

Vesta’s eyes softened. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Logue squeezed the toy again, with more purpose.

They sat in silence for a while, then his brother shifted next to him.

“Do you remember—? Maybe not, we were pretty little,” Vesta started. “I don’t even know why we were out by ourselves, I think I sneaked out and you just followed me as usual… just like a baby chick.” 

He lifted his hand to pet and ruffle his hair, but Logue swatted him away with a half smile. Nuisance. Always touching. He gestured for him to continue.

“But anyway—we were out, and I figure I was trying to get us back home? I remember I took your hand and we started walking.” Vesta’s eyes went a little unfocused as he concentrated on the story. “You were perfectly content to just go wherever, until we got to the marketplace.” His cheek creased up with a fond smile. “You gave a look to the crowd and just. Stopped. You didn’t even make a scene or anything, you were just. Nope.” He stiffened and held his arms along his sides, mimicking him freezing up. “I had to pick you up and carry you the whole way back.”

“I remember you carrying me. When I was little.” Logue shook his head. “Not that one time, though.”

“Yeah, I started carrying you everywhere for a while, after that. I don’t think I ever let you touch the floor when you were four or five.” Vesta snorted, then his face went a little more serious. “I was terrified. I thought I had gotten you hurt, somehow.”

Logue frowned.

“You were perfectly fine, obviously. We were kids, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He shrugged, pushed his fringe back in a nervous gesture. “I don’t know why I’m thinking about this right now. I guess what I’m trying to say is — I’m so, so proud of you, you’ve grown so much. You’re at least a whole chicken, now.”

The only appropriate reply to that was shoving him again, really, so Logue did. But his face hurt with how hard he was scrunching it up to stop himself from crying. He ended up wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist, burying his face in his chest and letting him hold him. Vesta’s purring was always so loud.

“So,” Vesta asked when Logue finally let him go. “Does the little guy have a name, or…?”

“He’s you.” Logue didn’t want to admit that he’d been just thinking of him as Little Big Brother. “Little Vesta?”

“Little—” Vesta’s face twitched in the sort of expression he made when he was trying not to laugh. “Are you sure? Isn’t it a bit—?”

Logue grimaced. He did hate knowing his brother so well sometimes. “No.”

Vesta couldn’t keep himself from laughing. “Your face! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promise I can be mature about it.” He made a show of wiping the mirth off his expression with a pass of his hand. “Proper introductions, then.”

He solemnly took Little Big Brother’s little arm between two fingers, and moved it up and down like he was doing a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Little Vesta.” He cracked up a little, but he recovered quickly. “Be nice to my little brother, he’s a good one. He deserves a good buddy. Are you up for the job?”

Little Big Brother, guided by Vesta’s grip again, made a little, solemn salute. Vesta nodded back, even more solemnly.

It was entirely silly, and maybe Logue should have been embarrassed by the fact that his older brother was taking the whole thing so seriously—but it was a silly serious. Just like Vesta. It worked. It made Logue’s chest a little lighter.

He tucked Little Big Brother against his stomach, and leaned against Vesta’s shoulder again. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, chickie.” Vesta pressed a kiss to his hair, and squeezed him back, purring back in full force. “You’re going to be just fine.”

[pigeontravelspots]

Post 4

History of Brussels Research

Hello! Welcome to the history of Brussels. Like Hercule Poirot the Belgian investigator, one must investigate the history of their destination spot, leaving no stone unturned. Brussels is the capital of Belgium. Brussels became a major trade center and was ruled by many powers, including the Spanish, Austrian, French, and Dutch. It was chosen as the capital of Belgium in 1830. Brussels rapidly emerged as a significant trade centre. It attained the status of the capital of an independent Belgium in 1830. It is a melting pot that prides itself as being more than a city of culture but a city of cultures. It is beautifully diverse with 62% of its residents being foreign born. It is located in a federal state of regions. Linguistically they speak Dutch, French, and German. However, many of them also speak some English. Public transportation: The Brussels Intermunicipal Transport Company (STIB-MIVB) operates the city's metro, tram, and bus network. The Airport Line connects Brussels Airport to the European district. Their money in euro 1.00 to 1.11 US dollars.

[king-of-fuffies]

Someone just pointed out that for someone who claims to want Robin fights, he also wants to remove almost every character that Robin would be involved in fighting

JelloApocalypse's STiB One Piece video is out and the One Piece fans in my friends' discord server are dissecting it with precision and intensity

[eek-a-tron]

10 Reasons to Ship Loki/Catwoman

A Nondefinitive & Cracky GodCat Rundown

1. He’s a god of thieves. Loki’s a Norse god with a long ancient list of patronage areas: mischief, tricks, lies, chaos, outcasts, the devil, death, and more … including, sometimes, thieves. THIEVES. It’s not mentioned often, but it’s around. Besides, mischief, chaos, and trickery tend to involve crime. Be Loki. Wear helmets. Do crimes. And consider hanging out with an anti-hero who still kinda gets it, because:

2. She’s a master cat burglar. Catwoman’s one of the most-recognizable cat burglars on Earth/Midgard, so that's kismet on the thieves thing. But she also vibes with the mischief thing, and sometimes with lies and tricks, too. Even with the outcasts thing. Definitely the anti-heroes thing. Plus, neither Selina nor Loki is an expert on trust, or family, or How to Feelings™ — and there’s nothing shippier than mutual angst!

3. Oops! All banter. Loki and Catwoman can banter for days. Weeks. Years. Loki plays with everybody, but not many characters really mischief him back. Catwoman would, though; it’s like, her thing. She’s sassy (*cue rando yelling from offscreen* feisty, eh?!), full of nicknames, and although she can’t exactly kick a god’s ass twelve days from Sunday, Loki might ask her to try anyway. (The old Batman rule applies there: did Catwoman have time to plan ahead, or have the element of surprise?! Heists require planning and improv, after all.) As such:

4. MatuRe CoNteNt. These two might never leave the bedroom to steal anything, possibly because of the aforementioned ass-kicking. If anybody can make Loki kneel and say thank you ma’am may I have another, probably while he’s laughing about it alllllllmost the entire time, it’s Catwoman. (Strangely wholesome mature content, right front of my anti-hero sandwich?! I ain’t mad at it.)

Loki's ye-olde-eyebrow gif from abby118!

5. Just two pros being pros. Erm, how do I put this delicately? Loki and Catwoman are, generally-speaking, both highly-sexualized, often-objectified characters. (More so for Catwoman in a way, sigh, but … that’s a whole ‘nuther topic.) Give ‘em a break, y’all: let the oversexualized bunnies get it on together! They’re both adults. They’ve both been around (comics) forever. And look, maybe a woman shouldn’t have to constantly chase a bat who doesn’t want to be caught — and vice-versa, frankly! Cats have needs, okay? Maybe magical, complicated, industry-crossing needs! (Did Loki write this one himself?! I wouldn’t put it past him.)

6. The nine lives thing. A word about the god/mortal power imbalance here: yeah, I don’t love that. But aside from Loki just sorta letting Catwoman hang around because they amuse each other, or because there are plenty of uh, other aforementioned reasons to level their playing-field *snort*, there are also plenty of Catwoman canons floating around in which she’s not entirely mortal. Sometimes she has nine lives, which puts her in the venn diagram hinterlands of magical comic characters with an extended lifespan. Interesting! (This concept was even brought back recently, comics-wise.)

7. Representation? (This one’s thorny because it’s never treated well in canon. The world is poorly-formed. :/ I hope we can form it better.) Loki and Catwoman may also vibe, perhaps, because they both have a canonic bi history. (I mean … Loki is canonically everything so it depends on the canon one’s talking about, but nevertheless.) I’m not really the appropriate person to bring Bi!GodCat content into the world, but it does make sense! Love them however they identify!

8. The Wonder connection. But what about Batman, you ask? What about his dark little heartstrings, you inquire? Well, hear me out here: if Loki/Catwoman, then maybe … Batman/Wonder Woman? (Why yes, I do like things about BatCat, and WonderBat, and GodCat! There are infinite ships in my ancient harbor, mes amis; I’m quite unbothered by multiple ship options. My skin is clear. My crops are watered and rotated.)

9. Knife mates. Both of these anti-hero tricksters are stabby. (Meaning: they sometimes favor the short blades.) Together, they make a dagger duo. Stib-stabs. Pointy sharpersons. WOMEN MADE OF KNIVES/MEN ALSO MADE OF KNIVES.

Loki stab-gif from youlackconviction!

10. Multiple AU fix-it options. When canon inevitably disappoints, one can always go to the headcanon mountain. Catwoman steals Loki from a prisondungeon. Catwoman steals Loki from the TVA. Catwoman keeps Loki alive and he feels acidically/obnoxiously grateful about it, plus other things. Loki vibes with Selina's trust issues and (complainingly) assists her heists with magic; maybe they even grow to be friends, or learn what love is like is between two similar souls. Perhaps their team-up helps get other Marvel/DC types out of a few high-powered jams. (Or else they just steal from them, heh; the options are many.) *steeples fingers* And so disappointment was solved forever, by expecting nothing from official channels. And also AUs.

[beardedmrbean]

1. As good as it gets: Flanders approves highly contentious nitrogen decree

After months of negotiations, the Flemish Parliament has approved the amended nitrogen decree, which sets out limits on emissions of the gas. The agreement was called by the majority parties the "highest achievable" outcome. But farmers vow to take legal action against it. Read more.

2. Belgium's new tax regime for expats: What changes?

From this month, Belgium's former expatriate tax regime – available to foreign executives and researchers hired from abroad – no longer exists. This means that the approximately 27,000 expats affected will see significant changes in their financial and administrative situations. Read more.

3. Panoramic restaurant above Brucity will finally open its doors

The long-awaited opening of Brussels' panoramic restaurant has finally been announced, meaning the stunning skyline can soon be marvelled at every day, no matter the weather. Read more.

4. Belgian architecture and beer: Why ugly beats boring

In 2011, a photograph of a grey terraced house in Belgium with two incredibly pointed steeples – a house completely different from all the houses on the rest of the street – kicked off a project by media consultant Hannes Coudenys called Ugly Belgian Houses. Read more.

5. People are 'not ready': Investigation into Belgium's colonial past at a standstill

The Commission tasked with investigating Belgium's colonial past in 2020 never published a final report due to intense political disagreement. "Minds were not ready," committee chair Wouter De Vriendt (Groen) stated after another vote fell through on Monday. Read more.

6. Noise pollution: STIB to replace 1,000 'oval' wheels to stop vibrations in Brussels metro

For over two years, local residents on the routes of Brussels metro lines 1 and 5 have been complaining about persistent noise pollution. The cause of this noise – defective wheels – will gradually be resolved this year, public transport company STIB has announced. Read more.

7. Hidden Belgium: A bookcase toilet in Antwerp

The curious eighteenth-century Hofkamer lies hidden in the garden of a grand 18th-century Antwerp mansion called Den Wolsack. Abandoned for many years, the remarkable Hofkamer interior was finally restored and revealed to the public in 2017. Read more.

[astermath]

♡ heart eyes; send in a prompt / idea / aesthetic / song along with a character and i'll make a moodboard based off your request!

uhhhh omg what about the celeb stib au <3

— @inkluvs / ivy

omgggg great idea! tysm for your request bae, I’m so excited to get all of these done!

aster’s 1K celebration / actor!steve au series