#concave dave

[3starart]

@diardri and @concaviddavid took me through the heavensward alliance raids recently

[concaviddavid]

i am a very easily amused littol guy, that's all

If you play a miqo please confirm if your wol also gets in ley lines like a box please and thank you

Light Party ft. Concave Dave 

[fictional-twink-bracket]

Propaganda

(PT: Propaganda)

Italy

No propaganda submitted

Shin

Dave Miller/William Afton

He's a rat murder rabbit twink. That kills people. Also probably hasn't showered since his kid died and has a waist straight out of a bad woman's anatomy video. He's got chopstick arms and an ugly face. People call him babygirl. I'm convinced his hair is either a really bad wig or a greasy rat. He has NO titties or meat. Stomach basically concave and smile unsettling. He has, in the words of a book I forget the name and author of, unfortunate ears. I hate this guy so so so so so much. There are people that would die for him. Idk what else to say here he's an ugly twink but I trust the simps to find him and carry him through at least one bracket

Monkey D Luffy

Mostly pre timeskip ig

Chuuya Nakahara

No propaganda submitted

Seitarou Tanabata

No propaganda submitted

[diadoesart]

Liturgy of The Bell Fashion Line 

The idea started as making an outfit based on the Liturgy of the Bell skill but ended up being more of a general WHM haute couture 

Might do more of these in the future for other classes, are there any in particular you’d like to see? lmk

Borrowed my two favourite White Mages to model for the non lala design, ty to Rana Echowalk and Concave Dave y’all (literally) keep me alive.

Kofi || Patreon 

[harpagornis]

Enantiornithean Earth

Yungavolucris and Halimornis by midiaou and xenopleurodon respectively. Both are real life Cretaceous taxa, showing that these birds were already diversifying into aquatic ecologies.

Enantiornithes are a group of extinct flying theropod dinosaurs that you could reasonably call birds, being the sister group of Euornithes (the group that includes modern birds). However, they differ from our birds in a variety of ways (their name literally means “opposite birds” for a reason):

Several skeletal details, including a tarsometatarsus that is either unfused or half-fused (beginning at the top rather than at the bottom, the opposite than in modern birds), an articulation of the scapula and coracoid that is oppositely shaped (hence the name; the coracoid joint is convex and the scapula joint is concave shaped in enantiornitheans, while the opposite happens in modern birds), a shallower sternum keel with bizarre antler-like projections (which, combined with large crests in their humerus, suggests the muscles lifting the wing were attached to the back as in bats and pterosaurs, rather than all flight muscles being attached to the keel as in modern birds), and a large, rod-shaped pygostyle (which will be relevant later).

Usually toothed jaws instead of beaks, though some taxa did become toothless. Even then, these weren’t capable of cranial kinesis like modern birds (i.e. watch a duck or your pet parrot yawn and you can see them moving their upper jaw; enantiornitheanss are many things but they’re not that abominatory).

All known taxa thus far seem to have been superprecocial: ample sites show buried eggs like those of megapodes, and the hatchlings were already fully flight capable soon after birth.

Unlike modern birds, enantiornitheans lacked a tail fan. They either had contour feathers on their butt like in the rest of the body or had long, streamer-like display feathers, also found in other Cretaceous bird groups but not in modern birds. Some species did have retrices, but they were arranged along the rod-like pygostyle and were not a movable fan, so essentially they were a variation of the tail fronds seen in Archaeopteryx and kin. Note that this did not make flight harder; even modern birds can fly reasonably well without a tail.

Why the opposite birds died out at the end of the Mesozoic while ours survived is unclear. Often, a bias towards arboreal niches is cited, as many enantiornitheans were in fact arboreal, but as the examples above show they also occured in marine and terrestrial niches alongside the ancestors of modern birds. Another possibility is their supreprecocial habits, meaning a more complex ecology as the birds matured since they were already functionally independent since birth, and this did hinder reptiles like lizards so the answer might lay there.

Or, most likely, it was just dumb luck.

Anyways:

Senmuruy hvare by Dave García. A four meter wingspan predator vaguely analogous to the golden eagle and cinnereous vulture, soaring across the northern hemisphere for corpses to dig its long snout into or live mammals and birds to sink its talons into.

Many Cretaceous enantiornitheans were already suspected of being raptorial, so it is only natural that, once pterosaurs were gone, they’d increase in size. Some reach wingspans of fiver meters, but most are more moderately sized at 1.5-3 meter adult wingspans. Smaller sizes are handled by the young, which like all enantiornithes can already fly since birth and occupy distinct ecological niches. Most species protect the nest and moderate its temperature like our megapodes, and a few even display mild parental care, allowing the young to remain in the vicinity until they’re large enough to be competition.

Euodontopteryx anatosuchus, a six-meter wingspan pelagic soarer that occurs in tropical and temperate waters, using its massive wings to ride on thermals like frigatebirds while landing to feed like albatrosses. Males sport streamer-like display feathers. By Dave García.

As noted above, some Cretaceous enantiornitheans were already aquatic, so this trend continued. Some species became divers, mostly wing propelled and some even flightless like our penguins, while others inversely invested in supreme gliding abilities, able to either ride thermals like frigatebirds or wave winds like albatrosses.

The most impressive species are reccord beaters. Divers can be as tall as a man when on land, while soarers can reach wingspans of over 7 meters, competing with flying multituberculates for largest living flying animals. Both groups tend to have long, toothy maws, the teeth alloted into a single row rather than individual sockets; this condition is known in both extinct sea birds and reptiles as well as some living cetaceans, and is known as aulacodonty.

Ghaltavis rex, a three meter tall predator that stalks African and Asian savannas. An apex predator of its own right, an echo of the distant unrelated tyrannosaurs in the form of a bird. By Dave García.

At least one real life enantiornithean, Elsornis, appears to have been flightless. It’s descendents were quick to occupy roles previously taken by non-avian theropods, from ratite-like herbivores to formidable predators that look like the fusion of a terror bird and a tyrannosaur, using their powerful jaws to crush bone.

The relatively long enantiornithean pygostyle allowed them to balance their pelvis/femur joints (a known size inhibittor in our birds) and grow to sizes larger than our timeline’s birds, though species above a ton are fairly rare seeing as mammals got their footing as well.

Bennu seti, a filter-feeding bird from Africa, Eurasia and Australia. Like flamingos it metabolizes carotenoids, giving it an orange colouration. By Dave García.

The Cretaceous Lectavis had long legs in some aspects convergent with those of flamingos. Thus, several enantiornitheans developed wading ecologies, ironically more associated with their euornithean competitors. Some became probers, dipping their maws (or toothless beaks) into the subtrate, while others became piscivores like herons or aquatic plant specialists like some cranes and magpie geese.

Most spectacular is a filter-feeding clade, Bennuidae. These birds modified their teeth into thin, delicate strands like some Cretaceous pterosaurs, and feed by swallowing water and expelling it, trapping prey in the teeth and keratinous spikes in the tongue. Having the nostrils still at the end of the snout, these birds usually feed in a different position from flamingos: rather than upside down, the lower jaw is submerged, in a manner similar to avocets.

Like most opposite birds the young are superprecocial, starting as plover-like birds before transitioning into a filter feeding lifestyle months later. Though some taxa form protective creches like flamingos, though unlike them they do not feed the young.

Like many of our shorebirds, these are continuous flappers, displaying remarkable endurance as they fly non-top for days in their migrations.

[holyfilamentagain]

I)1999: Melt-Banana: Charlie (A-Zap records)

Taraf de Haidouks: Honorable Brigands, Magic Horses & Evil Eye (Crammed Discs)

Rahsaan Roland Kirk: Natural Black Inventions-Root Strata (Atlantic)

Germs: Complete Anthology (Slash) II)2000:

"A Patch of Blue"--soundtrack, Jerry Goldsmith (Mainstream Records)

Rachmaninov--Variations on a theme by Corelli, Op. 42 (Ashkenazy; Decca Records)

Darius Milhaud--Six Petites Symphonies (Koch International)

Jerry Reed--Oh What a Woman! (RCA)

Futurism & Dada Reviewed (Sub Rosa) III)2000:

The Gil Evans Orchestra: Into the Hot (Impulse)

The Best of Godzilla 1954-1975 (GNP Crescendo)

Marvin Gaye: Troublemansoundtrack

The Hammer Quatermass Film Music Collection (GDI)

Luigi Nono: Como una ola de fuerza y luz (Deutsche Grammaphon) IV)2001:

SHOSTAKOVICH PLAYS SHOSTAKOVICH---7 preludes & fugues for piano (Hall of Fame)

THE THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR SOUNDTRACK---Michael Legrand (United Artists)

THE CARETAKERS SOUNDTRACK---Elmer Bernstein (AVA)

KAGEL: "1898" & Music for Renaissance Intruments. (Deutsche Grammaphon 20/21) V)Spring 2002 (26 March, 2002):

Pink Floyd: Atom Heart Mother (Capitol)

The Beach Boys: Hawthorne, CA (Capitol)

The Omen-Deluxe Editon(soundtrack): Jerry Goldsmith(Varese Sarabande)

Erik Sanko: Past Imperfect, Present Tense (JetSet)

Intestinal Disgorge: Drowned in Rectal Sludge (Lofty Storm) VI)Winter 2003:

The Outer Limits (TV Soundtrack)--Dominic Frontiere (Crescendo)

Fado de Lisboa 1925-1936 Vol. 1 (Heritage)

Edgard Varese: The Complete Works (London)

Furry Lewis, Bukka White and Friends: Party! At Home (Arcola)

Goblin: Zombi--Dawn of the Dead (Cinevox) VII)Summer 2003:

Sammy Davis Jr: The Wham of Sam (Reprise)

The Tony Williams Lifetime: Emergency! (Verve)

Stravinsky: Threni (Stravinsky conducting) (Columbia)

Black Music of South America: In Praise of Osala And Other Gods (Nonesuch)

Swans: Filth/Body to Body, Job to Job (Young God Records) VIII)Spring 2004:

Alfred Schnittke: String Quartet #4--the Alban Berg Quartet (EMI)

Funkaphonix vol 1-6 (Electrostatic Records)

Simon Diaz: Tonadas (Palacio)

The Wailers: KSAN Live Broadcast Oct 1973 (bootleg)

Julian Bream plays Villa-Lobos: Guitar Concerto and Five Preludes (RCA) IX)WInter 2004:

Bjorn Lanke: The Contemporary Solo Double Bass, Vol 3 (Simax)

Africa & the Blues--connections & Reconnections (Neatwork)

Morton Feldman: String Quartet No. 2--the Flux Quartet (Mode)

White Elephants & Golden Ducks---musical treasures from Burma (Shanachie)

Dave Brubeck: Angel Eyes (Colombia) X)Winter 2006:

Kurt Schwitters: Ursonate (Wergo)

Art Blakey: Night in Tunisia (Blue Note)

Cream: Wheels of Fire (Polygram)

Charles Ives: Three Places in New England--Leonard Slatkin (RCA Victor)

Jimi Hendrix: Band of Gypsies (Capitol) XI)Winter 2006:

Sly Stone: Seventh Son (Vamp Soul)

Mavis Concave: XIV:1-Scabs (Realicide Youth Records)

Nels Cline Singers: The Giant Pin (Cryptogramophone)

Sparks: Hello Young Lovers (In The Red Records)

New Music in Quartertones-Ives, Hampton, Lybbert, Macero (Odyssey) XII)Spring 2008:

Betty Davis (Light In The Attic Records)

Marcos Valle-Antologia (EMI)

The Story of Modern Farming-Someone New (d'Autres Cordes)

Rihanna-Good Girl Gone Bad (Def Jam)

Morton Feldman- Three Voices for Joan La Barbara (New Albion) XIII)Spring 2009:

The Stooges-Fun House (Elektra/Asylum, 1970)

Dennis Wilson-Pacific Ocean Blue (Sony/BMG, 1977)

2 Foot Yard-Borrowed Arms (YardWork, 2008)

Curtis Mayfield- Curtis (Rhino 1970/2000)

Martha Wainwright-I Know You're Married…(Zoe, 2008) XIV)Winter 2010:

Paul Desmond: Desmond Blue (RCA Victor)

Hanne Hukkelberg: Blood From A Stone (Propeller Recordings)

Annette Peacock: I'm The One (RCA)

Igor Stravinsky: The Flood (Columbia)

Jucifer: If Thine Enemy Hunger (Relaps Records) XV)Winter 2012:

Elliot Smith: Figure 8 (Dreamworks)

Julius Hemphill: Dogon A.D. (Arista)

Nilsson: Greatest Hits (RCA)

Ornette Coleman: Skies Of America (Columbia)

Jerry Goldsmith: The Sand Pebbles Soundtrack (20th Century Fox) XVI)Winter 2014:

Moods Of Marvin Gaye (Motown)

Charles Bukowski Uncensored (Caedmon)

Alfred Schnittke String Quartets 2 & 3 and Piano Quintet (Arabesque)

Kris Davis: Massive Threads (Thirsty Ear)

www.soundcloud.com/sannety

[infinite-jest-again]

New Episode of the Great Concavity Podcast

For those who don’t know The Great Concavity is a podcast completely dedicated to David Foster Wallace, hosted by Matt Bucher and Dave Laird. In every episode they have one or more special guests over, so the discussion is really varied. This episode’s guest was Kyle Beachy.

I’m almost finished listening to the episode, let me know your toughts!

[astro-teeny-art]

@recycled-bees-butts asked me to draw dave with a concave ass and unfortunately my hands are cursed

[spiritheyregone]

Cutbank

"A cutbank is a concave section of a tube wall formed on the outside edge of a meandering passage. Much like a moving stream, a flow of lava will erode sections on the outside side edge of a meandering passage, where the erosive force is greatest because velocity and turbulence are higher here. Evidence is strong that the primary means of erosion is via melting, and not by mechanical erosion."

Source: The Virtual Cave by Dave Bunnell

[3starart]

been hanging out at the praetorium a lot recently

[hamiltonimagines]

Starstruck

Pairing: Oak x Reader

Request: “can you write a oak fic where reader sees him riding his skate board at venice beach and she is kinda starstruck and he thinks it’s cute” - @lonelydance

Word Count: 1.5k

I was currently walking down to Venice Beach. I had just moved to Los Angeles and I was excited to spend as much time as possible at the beach.

I got to the beach and I found a park bench that was facing a skate park. I pulled a book out of my bag. Before I opened my book, I looked at all the skateboarders who were doing tricks.

One of them caught my eye. The guy looked familiar to me and I couldn’t seem to figure out why. He was super handsome, but I didn’t know why I felt like I knew him.

I ignored it and started to read my book. I would occasionally look up and see if I could remember why I knew this handsome stranger, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I put my bookmark in my book and decided to check my phone. I checked my Instagram. One of my close friends had posted something on their Instagram story, I decided to see what it was. It was a screenshot from Spotify of the Hamilton soundtrack.

Then it dawned on me, the guy was Oak from Hamilton. I had seen the show maybe a year ago back in New York. I couldn’t believe that we ended up in the same place. I hated to admit it, but I had a little bit of a crush on Oak.

I looked up from my phone and watched as Oak did a trick. As I watched him, I knew for sure that it was him. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of him. His tricks seemed so flawless and I was captivated.

Then, he did a jump and landed back outside of the concave part of the skate park. He stopped his board and stood there catching his breath for a second. He wiped some sweat off of his forehead.

Then, he looked over at me. I froze him, I hadn’t even realized that I had been staring this whole time. I could feel my cheeks heat up, as he stared back. I could see him start to smirk to himself. He winked at me and I quickly looked back down and pretended to read my book.

This was so embarrassing. It was one thing to embarrass yourself in public. It was a much worse thing to embarrass yourself in front of your celebrity crush in public.

Maybe, I had imagined it and he hadn’t noticed at all. I couldn’t help myself, I sneakily looked back up to see what Oak was doing. I saw him in the middle of a trick. He landed the trick and I looked down before he could catch me again.

I continued to read my book, but I couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching me. I figured I was just being paranoid, but what if I wasn’t? I had to look up to check again.

I wasn’t being paranoid, I saw Oak, across the skate park, staring right back at me. He smirked and waved to me. I panicked again and went back to my book. I couldn’t help but wonder how I got myself into this situation.

Then, a few minutes later, I heard a loud sound. I looked up and saw Oak, maybe ten feet away. He was skating along the outside part of the skate park and had fallen down.

I rushed over to where he was currently laying on the ground. I kneeled down next to him. “Oh my god are you okay?” I asked him, as I checked his arms for any major cuts. My mom was a nurse, so it was in my blood.

“Hey hey hey, I’m not hurt” he said, trying to calm me down. He grabbed both of my hands and stopped me from checking his arms. “Are you sure? You fell and you might of hurt yourself” I told him.

“I figured that if I pretended to fall, then maybe I could get the pretty girl, who keeps staring at me, to talk to me” he explained. I felt my entire face heat up. I quickly pulled my hands away from him and put my face in my hands.

I felt him grab my hands and pull them away from my face. “You can’t hide your pretty face” he said, smirking.

“I’m Oak” he said, sitting up. “Oh...uh nice to uhm meet you. I’m Y/N” I stuttered, feeling very nervous. “You recognized me, right?” He asked me. I felt like I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t of been doing.

“Pshh, recognize you? What do you mean? I have no idea who you are” I lied, unconvincingly. “Are you sure?” He asked, smirking.

“This is so embarrassing” I muttered to myself. “Don’t be embarrassed, I think you’re pretty cute” he said. “You what?” I asked, in shock. “I think that you’re cute” he said, slowly taking one of my hands into his own.

“Oh...well, um...that’s...or....um thank you?” I said, completely fumbling over my words. Oak smirked to himself. “Come on, let’s go sit” he said, standing up and pulling me up with him. We walked to the bench where I had been sitting, and sat down.

“So you come here often?” He asked me. “Not really, I just moved to Los Angeles. I figured I would check it out” I told him. “Oh you’re new to LA? Maybe, I could show you around sometime” he flirted. “I would really like that” I said, smiling.

“So do you skate?” He asked me. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that a no?” He asked, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, not even a little bit. I think I would break every bone in my body” I told him.

“How about I teach you?” He suggested. “Did you miss the part about breaking every bone in my body?” I asked, giggling. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I won’t let you fall” he promised me.

“Okay fine” I said. We both stood up and walked down the sidewalk, a little farther away from the skate park. “Okay, first things first” he said.

He took his helmet and placed it on my head. It was super loose on my head. “Look up” he told me. I looked up at the sky and I could feel him tightening the strap under my chin.

“Okay all good” he told me. He placed his board down on the ground, next to me. “So you’re going to stand with your feet parallel, and try to balance” Oak instructed. “I’m going to fall” I said, nervously.

“Then let me help you” he said. He held onto my forearms and I held on to his. I carefully stepped on to the board and then put my other foot on the board.

He moved my hands to hold onto his shoulders. I held on for dear life. I felt like I could fall at any second. “Your balance is off, do you mind?” He asked, as he put his hands in front of my waist. “Uh no, not at all” I told him.

He gingerly placed his hands on my hips and then repositioned the way I was standing. “See, much better” he said, smiling.

“So what now?” I asked him. “Do you want to try and move now?” He asked me. “I’m scared” I whispered. “I won’t let you fall” he said, holding my hands.

He started to walk with me and I held onto his hands super tightly. He let go of one of my hands and I kept going. I wasn’t really doing much. I was just standing there and balancing, but I was thankful that I hadn’t fallen yet.

Then out of nowhere, a dog came running across the sidewalk. I panicked, I didn’t know how to stop and I didn’t want to hit the dog. Oak saw it and stepped in front of me, stopping me from moving.

Unfortunately, I'd been going faster than I thought. I pushed Oak over and he fell backwards into the sand, next to the sidewalk. Since he had been holding onto my hand, I got pulled down with him.

I landed laying completely on top of him. “Oh...uh hi” I said, softly. “Wow, you’re gorgeous” he said, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. I leaned in and softly kissed him.

His lips were soft and smooth. I felt like I was in heaven. He grabbed onto my hips with his hands as he kissed me back.

We pulled away and rested our foreheads against each other. “Wow” we both whispered at the same time. This caused us to both start laughing.

“So how about we get back to the lesson?” He asked me. “Oh, yeah” I said, standing back up. I grabbed his hands and helped him back onto his feet.

“So how was that for my first time skating?” I asked him. “Well normally I would say that it’s bad that you fell on top of me, but it did lead to me getting to kiss you, so I won’t knock off points for that” he said, smirking.

taglist: @someinsanefangirl @outcasted-aloy @geekycatlover @fanfic-addict-98 @romanoffs-heart @multifandomwriterx @andreasworlsboring101 @criminallyhamilton @imatyoursurrvicesurr @irlydontknoanymore @sayweird99 @nyxie75 @elizard-hamilton @daveeds-whore @trost-town @notebookgirl30 @teenag1jealousy @royalstans @elizasfaith @kmsmedine @brunadesuu @roxanne2020 @grandpa-agustd @athenawinchesterx @labellapeaky @rthoney @nerd-88 @theatrenerd86 @riiyy

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines!!

[a-dorin]

simplicity | daveed diggs

warnings: sexual innuendos, cursing, nudity

a/n: okay first of all i have no idea what the fuck is raining down on him. is it tampons? something else? no idea. anyways, this is my first daveed blurb ever! so i hope you guys like it! :)

summary: the life of a broadway star can be quite extravagant, but he tends to adore the simpler things of life.

keys turning in the lock startle you from your slumber, quiet steps ringing through the space as he enters the apartment. the light of the t.v. dances across the ceiling, the sound mute. the only noise is the faint tick of a clock in the den, yet it’s white noise.

“baby i’m home,” his voice is soft, plump lips grazing your temple as he leans over the couch, “i didn’t wake you, did i?”

“no,” you string out a mumble as a yawn settles in, eyes squeezing shut momentarily, “not at all. i was just resting.”

“resting your eyes?” his tone is lighthearted, yet his voice is hoarse.

rising to your feet, you pad over to the figure, his curls bouncing as he set down his duffle, “do you need me to make you a cup of tea? i’ll add right amount of honey, just how you like it.”

lips curl in the corners, a wide grin enveloping his features, “i’m all right love, but thank you. i was just looking forward to a shower and then some sleep.”

“carrying the second act again, were you?” you arch a brow, prodding him with your index finger.

“as always,” a low chuckle rises in his throat, “but really, everyone did great. pippa was phenomenal, and anthony always has that wonderful voice of his.”

“and lin?”

“he did well,” daveed shrugs, his gaze softening as a thumb caresses your cheekbone, “i really wish you could’ve came tonight.”

collapsing into his chest, you nuzzle into his hoodie, ��me too.”

“hey,” lips connect with your forehead this time, “do you want to shower with me?”

“is there going to be some sex involved with that?”

“you just gotta ask and i will provide,” he flirts, grasping your chin with his fingers, “i’ll give you anything you want baby.”

your heart sinks as your eyes fall on the deepened circles underneath his eyes, the way the skin is puffy and swollen. wrinkles are beginning to etch their way into his skin. and you can’t help but notice his eyes.

his mocha depths, always alight with happiness, always glimmering with flirtation, were now a hollowed obsidian hue, dull with exhaustion.

the toll was beginning to reflect in your beloved diggs. whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“daveed,” you begin, the words delicate, “how about i start the shower for you, and then i’ll help you wash up?”

the jovial grin transitions into a weary, gracious smile, “there’s nothing that i wouldn’t want more.”

taking his hand, you lace fingers together, leading him to the bathroom. leaning over, you turn the knobs, stretching out fingertips to test the temperature. he peels off his clothes, the sweats dampened from a hard night’s work.

“make sure it’s not too hot,” you murmur, shedding off your own hoodie and leggings, “i know you always tease me about the water.”

“yeah because you and satan happen to like the same temperature,” a laugh escapes from his lips, “it should be fine.”

you allow him to enter first, shutting the glass door behind you. once you’re both in, he stands underneath the stream, soaking in the warmth as the water runs down his body.

for a second, you can’t help but admire your boyfriend as he stands before you. the droplets of water litter his built frame, muscles apparent, bicep flexing as he reaches for the soap.

the water streams down, magnifying every concave and convex.

god, was he absolutely gorgeous.

and he was all yours.

“you going to help me out or are you going to just keep staring?”

your heart skips a beat, “o-oh yeah. fuck. sorry.”

“it’s okay baby,” the bottle of body wash is placed into your hands, “will you get my back?”

“of course.”

carefully, you squeeze a sufficient amount into your palm, hands roaming across his shoulders and back as you apply the body wash. moments later, your hands start to knead, massaging out knots and aching muscles.

a content hum echoes through the bathroom as you massage, daveed nearly melting underneath your tender touch.

“there,” you exhale, “you can rinse now.”

daveed swivels on his heel, coming face-to-face with you. hands cup your cheeks, bringing you in.

his lips are soft and plush, the kiss gentle as his mouth molded with yours, his tongue running along your lower lip. arms loop around his neck as his tongue delves into your mouth, the tart taste of cherries lingering on your tongue.

the kiss is languid, as he was savoring the moment.

the moment of simplicity, where he wasn’t under the intense lights of the stage. where the roar of the crowd wasn’t thundering in his ears.

the simple moment of sharing a shower with the woman he loved more than anything. the woman who knew exactly how to make him feel better after the draining nights. the woman whose touch could send him spiraling into a state of forever bliss.

and for daveed, those moments of simplicity were enough to outweigh those extravagant moments, where the applause flooded his ears and blood coursed through his veins.

sure, he adored broadway. he was passionate about his career. he relished the spotlight. he enjoyed spending time with his castmates and the fans. he liked interviews with media outlets.

but god, there was nothing more that he loved than coming home to you.

[homestuck-headcanonymous]

dinosaurs eating people (they didn’t get to say goodbye)

a/n: this is a whole lot of angst. tw for suicide.

the moment of silence after you die, dave strider thinks, must be the loneliest moment in the world. dread has always been woven into his bones, his blood, polluting every second he had- but not like this. nothing was like this.

he remembers the day they pulled apart from the alpha timeline like it was yesterday- maybe it was. he does not know when or where or what he is in this strange too-dark-to-be-darkness, and maybe he is nothing at all. It was the littlest thing- a gear was fixed from where it had broken, something to do with a door mechanism nobody ever used- and then it was gone. shattered. like a dead butterfly’s wings in the palm of a child’s hand grasping too tight. it *hurt*, almost, the knowledge of it- like a recoil from the shotgun bro had tried to teach him to use, the one that was stuffed inside of the hall closet in the apartment he hadn’t seen in years. terezi and rose felt it too, he could tell. he’d never seen grief-and-guilt-and-pain and pure, exhausted, aching resignation mix on his sister’s face like that, and it almost made his chest tighten and sting all over again as he saw her feel the string holding them to a future draw taut and snap back on her, like the lash of a too-tight violin string breaking.

it was so quiet that day. it felt wrong, but what could he do? it was grief, in a way, but it never felt like it. it felt like the second after you drop something important on the ground and it shatters. the moment you realize that you have done something irreparable. karkat came into his room that night while he stared at the ceiling. the scent of sopor was thick around him, and he didn’t have to say why. dave knew. he understood. after all, if you’re doomed, why not try and do whatever you can to ease that pain? karkat’s shoulders were shaking, and his expression was softened and blurred with tears as red as the stained glass window of the cathedral he saw once on a bus ride. it was a portrait of jesus on the cross, bloodied and red but still resolute, still willing to die for the future of those around him. dave held karkat that night, but neither of them slept very much. karkat still smelled like home to dave, underneath the saccharine-sticky scent of slime, and when he dozed off in the irregular moments of what he thought would have been almost dawn, he thought christ was a fitting metaphor for karkat. born to die, in a way, but to save others. who was this saving? in a moment of bravery, he left the lightest of feather-soft kisses on karkat’s forehead. the troll didn’t stir from his fitful slumber. he could never understand, dave thought, what karkat was going through, but it could have never been easy.

it was so easy to fall in love like that- the space when there is nothing but you and those you care about. karkat woke late the next morning, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed in the soft light of the alchemized fairy lights, and dave strider wished that he could take a million photos, just to see the scene forever, because karkat vantas was the most beautiful sight in all of time and space like that.

“thank you, dave. for letting me stay. you know. last night. i...i think i just needed to not be alone for a little bit.”

his voice is bleary and soft, and it feels like soft rain during a houston summer. dave could listen forever.

“and i know that you’ll just say that it wasn’t a big deal, or that it was nothing, or that it didn’t matter, but it did. it meant a lot to me. so...thanks. i’m.. glad you’re here.”

karkat’s hand is cupping his cheek now, soft and gentle and so warm that he wants to lean into it like a cat being pet, and it is the kindest way anyone had ever touched him. he realizes that his shades are off, set aside to sleep. he realizes that he doesn’t care.

when dave strider kisses karkat vantas for the first time, it is knowing that the world has ended, and seeing the wild, bright unknown of whatever comes after. neither of them quite knows how, and it is awkward and new, and utterly, wonderfully, perfect.

dave’s never considered himself a romantic, but maybe, he thinks, one day, that could be changing. he knows karkat loves that stuff, and when he tries to set up a picnic for the two of them in a room without much in it, the alternian fruit salad bites him, and the candles are smoky and burn stutteringly, but seeing the way karkat’s eyes light up the room and his quiet laugh of gentle disbelief makes his heart melt in relieved affection.

dave strider is completely, utterly, head over heels in love, and he knows it.

here, now, in this space of nothing he is becoming, he wished that he had said it a million times.

they never talked about it, that much. the world ending. everything ending. *them* ending. dave wishes that they would have. it just hurt too much, in the late nights when he thought of it, karkat’s head rested on his chest and neither of them sleeping. it burned too much, to gaze into the blazing sun and face it. he knew that they were out of time, but somehow, he always thought they’d get just a little longer.

the day he died was a little like that. rose stayed in her room alone, that morning. he heard kanaya knocking at her door softly, and he saw the wine-red blood and the blood-red wine spilling across the metal floor when kanaya entered, soaking into the rug that rose had spent weeks crocheting, the colours of lavenders and sunshine and stormy skies in soft woolen doily-patterns. he heard quiet whispers of “no no no no please no” filling his ears and it was only as he fell to his knees, his sister’s blood smudging his face, that he realized that they were coming from him. kanaya was curling into herself shaking like a leaf in the breeze, and dave wanted to too. it was like a gnawing hollowness, the denial of something right in front of you, of watching a chunk of your sliced-off heart bleed to empty on the ground. it was the beginning of the end. or maybe it was the end of it. when he saw karkat coming out of the winding hall where terezi’s room was, teal soaking his skin up to the elbows, he knew too. the instant dave touched karkat’s shoulder, all the comfort he could think to give, it was like the troll shattered, falling to the ground.

“’rezi...i..i tried so hard to save her....but i was too late....the blood....there was so much blood...”

dave doesn’t know what to say, really. what to do. how do you comfort someone when the world is ending? he drops to his knees and wraps his arms around karkat’s shoulders, as though he can hold him tight enough to turn back time. he wishes he could. just to stay like this for a few more moments.

they hold each other like that for a while. neither of them have the energy to spare for tears, but they grieve together. it is quiet. and for a moment, it feels like someday, everything will be okay. when dave looks out the window, he sees the collision course they follow. cleanup for heroes doomed to die. he knows that there will not be a someday. not for them. when he goes back up to rose’s room to invite kanaya down for coffee of a late breakfast, or anything to not make her stay alone, the door is just ajar, and her sewing kit- the one she always kept in her pocket, the one she loved so much- with the ivy-patterned canvas and the vintage scissors and the tiny little star sketchbook for design ideas- is strewn across the hall, pins and needles and spools of thread scattered and thrown everywhere. the scissors are gone- he remembers, distantly, how they had been a present to her from rose- how he’d walk out of his room in the middle of the night and find her still trying to alchemize what she wanted. how relieved rose had looked behind her tired eyes on kanaya’s wriggling day party, when her eyes lit up at the delicate embroidery scissors, with their little brass handles carved like lace with tiny roses. it had been a happy day. a few months before the split. he does not need to look, now, to know where the scissors have gone. he notices the jade-green blood, half-iridescent, soaking into his shoe far too late, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.

dave goes back to his room. he grabs one of the jugs of bleach from the cleaning supplies cabinet they never really ended up using. idly, he wonders what they could have used all the time they wasted on them for. how many days could he have spent with the people he loved? what could have happened in those days falling from the timeline? he wants to hit something with the injustice of it all, punch and kick and scream and cry, because how could he have been so stupid? to have wasted the hours he doesn’t get anymore because he lost them?

it’s his turn, now. he knows it.

karkat is waiting inside his room, the quilt kanaya made for him as a christmas present reddened and damp where his tears have fallen. in a moment, karkat wraps his arms around dave’s neck, clinging onto him. dave wraps his arms around him too, and buries his head in karkat’s shoulder. he still smells like home to dave, and it makes dave feel like his chest is collapsing in on itself, concaved to less than a hollow space. the jug of bleach is set on the ground for a moment. it is not forgotten.

karkat sees it when he lets go. dave knows he knows in a split second.

“dave, you...this is some sick joke, right? some sick fucking joke? you can’t be..not you too, right?”

karkat sounds desperate, devastated- and dave strider has never hated himself for doing something more in his life.

but he still cannot stay.

he steels himself with the same determination, the same icy chill he was raised to have. a strider man hurts people for their own good, a million times those words were blazed into his ears while he lay bloody on a rooftop ringing again.

“go away, vantas. i need to do this. it doesn’t concern you.”

he sounds like *him*- like bro- and it almost makes dave flinch back on instinct- reach for a sword and glance around and brace for the impact of a sword against his skin.

karkat’s eyes are filling with tears again, and the impact of it hurts more than any strife ever could have.

“doesn’t *concern* me? dave, what the fuck are you talking about? i *love* you! you don’t need to do this. please,- god, just....*please*, don’t leave me alone here. please, don’t leave me *alone*.”

dave freezes for a second. karkat stares back. the last card has been played. it is a second too long.

“god, y’know what! *fine*!! i guess i *can’t* fucking stop you! because *apparently* wanting the guy you thought was your fucking *soulmate* to not spend his last fucking moments alive with you chugging off-brand human clorox is an unreasonable fucking request! maybe....maybe you just didn’t give as much of a shit about me as i did about you! maybe i was a braindead fucking dumbass to think that you ever even loved me enough to give a shit about what i think!!”

karkat slams the door behind him when he leaves. dave slides to the ground, his back against it. he can hear karkat crying, now- his momentary desperate anger flickered out to nothing but loss and loneliness. dave’s guilt feels almost physical, now- like hot wax melted onto his skin that won’t let go. his hands are shaking. he realizes that his shades have fallen off, and that he must have stepped on them without noticing. one lens is cracked, the other shattered- the frame is twisted beyond repair. the jug is heavy- but not too much. his arms shaking, he slowly lifts it to his mouth. time is running out.

in the end, dave strider doesn’t need to kill himself. in the moment the bleach touches his tongue, searing it, the meteor crashes into another, shattering apart. the impact kills them all. there are no survivors. there is nobody left to remember them.

and now, dave strider is here. there is nothing. it is dark. *he* is nothing. the last thought he has before all he was is no more is that he just wishes that the people he loved did not die thinking that they were alone. that karkat did not die thinking he was alone. that he could have gotten just one last chance to say goodbye. it is what he has been thinking all along. it never comes true.

[biokissed]

sometimes dave posts something, like wanting to be concaved, and i have to block him or i'll go grim dark.

[steakbatter]

we're thick eyebrow lovers in this house only if you got wispy ass skinny brows you're a chump

thick eyebrows are litcherally the most gorgeous feature anyone can have, it just doesn’t go well with dave’s concave ass

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

kansas is flatter than the striders concave asses

FOR 👏 A 👏 FACT 👏

-mod dave