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Act I ~ The Prince
A tapestry for Let No One Sleep by @azalawa-scroggs on ao3
#narumitsu#wrightworth#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#nmbb24#happy nrmt big bang!!! there are two more of these…..#but you’ll have to wait for them#fan art#aa#ace attorney#dick gumshoe#maya fey#manfred von karma#…bro is creeping…#wHEEWWWW ok took me a bazillion years to catch up with my day but HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS ON THIS ONE:#the border is intended to be read in counter clockwise direction#so: top -> left -> bottom -> right#and YES the sun and the moon are intentionally associated with the attorney's and prosecutor's badges respectively#phoenix and miles are our sun and moon throughout this story so be sure to look for that in the fic too!!#this style was very experimental for me but i wanted it to mimic the feeling of a tapestry hence me referring to it that way#i WISH this was fabric that would be sick as fuck#i will eventually share a proper breakdown of the thoughts and intentions behind everything but for now...#im gonna miss Phoenix’s cloak bc im obsessed with the design actually. wish that thing was real too#miles is my cunty little bitchboy in this wearing his thousand pound fur coat and the suitor stompy boots#if you thought that was a rug and went Oh. ...that was on purpose :^)))))#rendevok#id in alt text
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Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: Part Two
-> Part 1
cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.
Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.
The Brain Injury Recovery Center.
It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.
So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.
Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…
There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.
“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.
Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.
Can’t let Eddie see him like this…
He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.
For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.
It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.
Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.
As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.
Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.
He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.
Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.
Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…
His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.
But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.
And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.
It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.
Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?
Stupid, stupid, stupid…
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.
Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…
The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.
It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.
Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.
He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.
Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.
Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.
To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.
Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.
“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.
He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.
“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.
“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.
“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”
The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”
Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”
She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”
“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”
“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”
“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”
He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.
“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.
“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.
She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.
He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…
It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.
Hopper steps out.
Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.
When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.
His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.
Then it clicks.
Oh. Steve’s the emergency.
He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.
“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.
Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”
“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.
Munson. Eddie.
The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?
Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.
“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?
“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.
When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”
Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.
Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”
Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.
“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.
“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”
“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.
The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.
In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.
“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.
Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.
But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.
“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”
Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.
Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“
Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.
She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”
Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”
She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.
“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.
“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”
But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.
“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.
Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”
But she doesn’t, not really.
Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—
No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.
Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.
When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.
🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.
Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)
@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @queenie-ofthe-void @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife
#Steddie#I swear I’ll fix it#🔨🪛🪚 look I have my tools right here#let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for part 3!#angst with a happy ending#Steddie amnesia fic#concussed Steve Harrington#tw head trauma#Steve Harrington centric#whew boy we’re in for a bit of a roller coaster#Eddie Munson#Steve Harrington#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#steddie fanfic#Eddie Munson is a sweetheart#he’s just a little guy#Eddie x Steve#Steve x Eddie#pre-Steddie#but they’re heading there I swear#I WILL make the boys smooch I swear#but anyway here it is!#I’ve literally never had a fic blow up the way this one did#thank you everyone#my writing#write Rae write
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The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~
Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍
#maccadam#transformers#fic fanart#momu fanart#jazz#prowl#jazzprowl#considering the speed and the amount of fanart#….yeah I can see why tumblr thought I was a bot lmao#also#I mostly read during night and then drawing from memory during day so uhhhhh the accuracy is questionable haha#mainly I feel like half of the time I don’t know how tf Jazz looks. The guy switching between his looks so often jdjfjfj#IM. SO GLAD THEY RESOLVED THEIR DRAMA EHEHBJGJ#The scene in medbay was so damn cute#oh my goddddd#the scene of the tac net crash#muah#loved it~#you know the thing is - I'm a biiiig fan of mutual feelings and actions#the scene of the kiss was absolutely great but it was a bit one sided#Jazz cared about Prowl but Prowl was far more concerned about information safety and strategy and stuff#but this?? mmmm~ Them caring for each other#Prowl using his last moments of consciousness to ask Jazz if he is mad at him#Prowl actually deeply caring of what Jazz thinks about him now when he knows Prowl killed his friends#i don't know how to explain#kisses are great but this (points) this is my favorite five star meal right here#also there is something so funny about Prowl slowly discovering fow fucked up Jazz is and just accepting it#but being so scared when Jazz discover how fucked up he is. Only for Jazz to be like “boo I knew about your fuckedupness from the start”
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john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.
john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.
sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x
and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.
~~
you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.
~~
he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.
he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.
he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.
“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.
“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”
john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”
“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”
like running into my car?
“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.
“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.
“supposed to be?”
she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”
“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.
it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.
“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”
that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?
it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.
“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.
“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”
crashed. you crashed into my car.
“sounds terrible.”
“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.
john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.
“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.
he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.
#john price#price is right#price x f!reader#price x female reader#no I don’t know what this is either#self-indulgent tbh#why can’t I have met john price when I was a drunk barista#we love readers taking Ls around here#also I bet cctv footage is ass but in fic land it’s not pls forgive me
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This was made because I read a fic "Proximity" by rosesofenvy and now i'm yearning.
#plsss the creator of the fic dm because for some reason the link for tumblr on ao3 doesn't work and i can't tag you :(#malevolent#malevolent podcast#arthur lester#john doe#jarthur#my art#you know its funny cause i dont like fully ship them like i prefer them queerplatonic but everytime i draw them it turns love dovey#this is based of of a painting if that wasnt clear#John looks amazing here but i can never get Arthur quite right when i do these#im very proud of the shirts tho and like the render in general
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reading the wikipedia page for the mind-body problem for a Portal + House of Leaves crossover fic I'm drafting and this part felt like a very fitting poem
#hi everyone. i'm hopelessly fixated on portal right now#portal#glados#portal 2#portal glados#i may post some of the stuff i work on for this fic here.... we shall see
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Behold! The victorious end to the age of the banana! Farewell bananawan... (as if i won't draw more)
Bananawan part 2 (written by @anaclastic-azurite) has been set loose here, and part one is here, check it out!!!!
#ive never drawn him with more aura points than right here#obi wan kenobi#star wars fanart#codywan#star wars#my art#digital art#fanart#fic rec#codywan surfer au#bananawan#banana stand
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Ouugghhgjg them... Leo deserves some closure after the events of the second chapter of and just like that, and because my brain isn't letting me think in words (I'd wanted to write a drabble for this) I'll just think in pictures instead
Leo's having a tough time and obviously Leonardo isn't just going to let him fester in those feelings 🥺 He's not leaving! Yuichi isn't taking him away from his family! It's A PROMISE
#i'm so ajkdgjkfadgjkgfsd because i want to write little leo and yuichi meeting and getting to know each other and and and#and then LEO CAN BE LESS SCARED. YUICHI IS NOT THERE TO TAKE A PART OF LEO'S FAMILY AWAY. HE'S ADDING TO IT.#but words aren't wording yet. augh#rottmnt#rottmnt fanart#rottmnt fanfiction#rise of the tmnt#nqk adjacent#future leonardo#peepaw leo#future leo#rise leo#rise leonardo#tervdraws#tcest dni#fic: and just like that#guess who's a goof and uploaded the wrong version. well here's the right one MAYBE lmfao
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Uh, I'm the head of HR, so it's highly inappropriate for me to discuss this—
PEDRO PASCAL as MAX PHILLIPS Bloodsucking Bastards (2015) dir. Brian O'Connell
#pedropascaledit#ppascaledit#ppascaldaily#pedrohub#pedro pascal#userallisyn#useralii#userfanni#useriselin#userscary#usercyn#userpng#tusercora#tuserpolly#xuserannie#max phillips#bloodsucking bastards#g:pp#oaks#still shocked all the sleezy boss fics are given to joel#when max is right here lmao
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"why, I had no part in that. you've always been this way!"
just a little something from @morningstarwrites fanfiction "of saints and sinners" which i'm obsessed with
#im so crazily art blocked right now#but it's at least osas day so thats a win#someone wrote under my last fanart for this fic that my art peaked their interest in it and they went and read the whole fic??#that made me so SO happy#i fear lucifer looks way too annoyed in this one here#but i feel like after a certain point i was just drawing my own facial expression because im so frustrated help#at least alastor is happy#idk its 5am here and i should probably sleep#does any of this make sense#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#radioapple#lucifer morningstar#alastor#my art
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fire nation festival wear aka a blatant excuse for me to push atla clothing design conventions to the absolute Limit
jjk atla!au with @philosophiums
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#fanart#jjk fanart#fushiguro megumi#itadori yuuji#kugisaki nobara#jjk atla!au#atla!au: art#atla!au: illust#atla!au: design#lmhs#yuuji#megumi#nobara#there i go again putting way too much effort into designs that will b featured in all of one (1) chapter probably#the first fire nation fit i did for yuuji isnt even fic canon btw for the majority of th time theyll just be in their earth kingdom clothes#and these r the only fire nation clothes they'll Actually wear fr a significant amt of time#so feel free 2 disregard th other fit i designed for yuuji in that ask because this is all i want to see him in Ever actually#no ankles no chest no toes showing my boy is FULLY clothed. not an INCH of skin exposed. no sinful clothing cuts here no sir#did i draw him buttoned up from head to toe out of spite? maybe :)#'fire nation is based on imperial japan' me: on it boss taisho era inspired festival wear comin RIGHt up#real talk though these designs put me through the Wringer cries combining those two influences ws so hard...#all 3 braincells working *nanami voice* overtime smh#imo the final designs still ended up being a far cry from atla canon but i cant be bothered anymore they look Fine its Fine#my kids r dressed 2 the nines and that was the goal
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WHO DECIDED TO FUCKING WAKE UP THIS MORNING AND DROP THE HOTTEST PICTURES OF LANDO AND ISCAR IM FIGHTING TO BREATHE OUT HERE YOU GUYS SEND HELP PLZ IM NOT OKAY IM SHORT CIRCUITING
#LIKE???#I NEED IT IN INCRIMENTS TO STAY ALIVE#still blessed tho#i dont want anyone but these men right here#the absolute banger of fics im about to go start writing bc im no longer stressed with school bc its the weekend and these pics j dropped#mclaren#mclaren formula 1#lando norris edit#lando norris#ln4#oscar piastri#oscar pastry#oscar piasstri#op81
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Honestly, when bart came back to the past for his mission, he didn't expect to see one of his friends he left behind.
So excuse him for standing still and gaping like an idiot at the clearly looking teenager on his phone.
"Danny?!"
At the call, the stranger– his bestie— looked up.
"Bart!"
It is his friend.
The same black haired, too blue eyed teen with baby fat clinging to his cheeks, the same way his hair appears white and eyes green when unfocused and not paying attention.
Holy shit.
"How are you in the 21st century?!?!"
The boy merely blinks, looks down on his phone, and then looks up again.
"I should be asking you that! How are you here??"
"Timetravel duh! What's your excuse?!"
"I'm immortal???"
(It's similar to the spiderman meme, truly.)
(Bart is slightly glad none of his teammates or mentor or family members are here.)
—
It became somewhat of a game for them.
Everytime the speedster appeared in a different year, hell even universe for the kicks, the first thing he does is search for Danny.
(The teen is there, each time.)
And every time he succeeded, Danny helps him with the problem, or slightly nudges him to the path really.
(Each time bart worries less for the time stream and disturbances, his friend seems to be outside of it to truly bring harm.)
(And if he meets Clockwork along the way, that's a secret between them. And the part where he gets hired for the similar stuff danny gets sent to the past.)
(For them it's a casual Wednesday. So what if they just saved an entire planet? Its nothing big!)
—
Bart should have thought more over the decision to help the literal being of time itself.
Considering he is currently seated on a chair, Barry, Wally and dozen of other heroes (including his team standing behind him in an effort to show their support.) With demands of an explanation.
Damn it danny, why did you let those in the 13th century paint a portrait of them!!!
And the apparent ancient Egyptian art of them too?? In a museum??
What the hell danny!!! Way to throw him under the bus!!
#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#fic prompt#writing prompt#dc impulse#this is a bart and danny collab folks#danny: that.universe is weak.if they could get destroyed by a mere butterfly effect#bart: im not saying ur wrong but we were sent here to literally stop that#danny: aw man#bart: but yeah ur totally right#morally gray danny and bart my beloved#this is literally#time traveler and immortal guy
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A little different than last year's, but here we are again. To say that this past year hasn't been absolutely wild would be a lie, cause HOLY SHIT MAN
This year's birthday is. A little different for me, but you already have the silly comic to show that so I won't make like a broken record oops
But, despite the changes and hills that life's decided I should climb or throw at, it hasn't changed the fact that I'm so genuinely fucking thankful to the people that I've known since joining this fandom. I'm not even kidding when I say that being here has actually changed my life for the better. I know I said something similar last year, but this time, hoo boy it sure turned up the AMP and test how far I could go.
So, to everyone, both new and old; thank you for being here :D
@garbagechocolate @darkxsoulzyx @smoljeanius @bunmuffin @skizabaa
@tuzesdays @sleepykas @fernzwing @kandidandi @starsketchez
@just-a-drawing-bean @notdysfunk @ilsole @amberluvsbugs @cloudyvoid
@nomsthecat @alfinefalf @nosleepygay @theblog-with-thestuff
@cacaocheri
(Edit: ty kibbits for informing me of the. Fuck ass tagging system)
AND TAGGING OTHERS BECAUSE. POINTS. BONKS WITH HEAD. GETTING TO EITHER INTERACT OR TALK OR WHATEVER IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT
@ohno-the-sun @kibbits @ink-yy @saltyfryz @kaprisvn
@hierba-picante @sunny-sophies-garden @cookiiemancer @sneeblbop @justaduckarts
@pepethehumanz @crystalmagpie447 @woolysstuff @mocha-illustrates @duhsty1
@sanchensky @pillowspace @victarin @witherfide
[I DEFINITELY GOT SONAS WRONG AND THESE AREN'T ALL THE SILLY PEOPLE I KNOW BUT IM SITTING HERE AT 2:30 IN THE MORNING JUST KNOW YOU'RE THERE IN SPIRIT HANDING YOU ALL POPTARTS WAUGH]
#nebula art and doodles#should. i even count it as that-#nebula birthday time#fuck it birthday tag go brrr#also if i. didnt tag you it is 100% because i'm. a fucking coward <33 and am not sure if you'd like to be tagged in a silly thing like this#(or i don't. know you. that also but shaky thumbs up)#god. this year has been. insane dawg#my goofy ass going through canon events like it's a buffet /silly#jokes aside#the fact that im still like. here. right here#posting or reblogging goofy shit#still in the process of making my fic (i prommy im working on it)#and just. managing to make friends with people despite shit happening#it's so wild to me#i know for some people i've tagged we either haven't talked that much or haven't talked in awhile#and to that i say#fuck it we ball /j#but seriously it's. honestly bc getting to interact with you guys at all makes or has made my day that much brighter#even if it's been awhile like i mentioned or for whatever reason#this is. getting long as hell and i need to go to bed oops#anywhooooo#gotta go fast or some shit#OH- and thank you all so much for. almost 3k. holy shit#where the fuck did you all COME FROM HOW DID WE GET HERE#big heart emojis and sending love to you all#thank you so much
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You can talk about what you wished had happened, or what you think should’ve happened, but when it comes to what actually happened, Jason is not the prodigal son, Bruce did not slaughter a fatted calf for his return!
#Do you understand the metaphor I’m putting down? This right here is why there’s like 8000 Bruce & Jason fix it fics on ao3#people want the warm and fuzzies for these two and by god is canon not giving you that#Not to get all biblical about it. But being the prodigal son requires a warm welcoming when you return doesn’t it?#Jason Todd#Bruce Wayne#Dc#Though I guess you could consider the n52 return to the fray to be Jason’s prodigal son moment. Though I wouldn’t exactly call the wingman#suit the finest robes. Also that would imply confession and complete forgiveness neither of which have happened#I’m being too literal about the Bible metaphor I’ll stop now
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anything can be a good omens au if you’re unhinged enough
#share ur wildest au ideas in the reblogs/comments if u want to pls#i’m still stuck on my h2o just add water au#crowley as rapunzel? gut-wrenching the hunger games au? superstore au with all the found family vibes?#riverdale au but they’re the parents oblivious to their kids establishing new time lines left and right#jurassic park au and they’re both dinosaurs just trying to munch on some grass#ineffable wives in a the wilds au making out on the beach while everyone else is fighting for their lives#glee au they’re teachers from another school reporting mr shue for being creepy af#crowley knows all the dances to high school musical in a modern family au#desperate housewives au but they don’t have any annoying husbands#barbie fairytopia au with rainbow wings do i need to say anything more#love island au they have a fake dating arrangement to get social media famous but they fall for each other anyways#claire’s au aziraphale gets his first piercing crowley shoots it#durex au crowley and aziraphale meet filming an ad for- [gunshot]#ok lemme stop here#good omens#aziracrow#gomens#good omens fics#good omens au#foolish talks#to write
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