#friends meet!
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✦ Freshly ordained ✦
#a packless dog will happily accept his collar or something like that#own art#own characters#CanisAlbus#art#artists on tumblr#Machete#anthro#sighthound#dogs#canine#animals#maybe you might benefit from a little bit of context in this case#Machete becomes a priest at around 20 or so#he has trained all his life for this goal#he has worked himself to the bone and sacrificed so much#because he believes it would make him respectable and worthy and give his life a purpose and meaning#he gets his very first cassock from the tailor's and it immediately fits like a second skin#for the first time ever he feels like something he wears actually makes him look kind of nice#the hard part is over it'll be smooth sailing from here on out#there's a period in Vasco's and Machete's lives where they were apart for almost a decad#they met in their late teens when they were both studying in the same university in Venice#became friends and then lovers#but had to separate when Machete graduated and Vasco dropped out#Machete was ordained as intended and Vasco followed his father into politics#they meet again unexpectedly in their early 30's thanks to their similar jobs#Machete had became a cardinal secretary of state and Vasco was a Florentine diplomat#this takes place shortly after he had lost contact with Vasco and before he reconnects with him again
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Everyone “hates” Mike in the FNAF movie..
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#mike schmidt#fnaf vanessa#vanessa shelly#vanessa afton#jeremiah fnaf#fnaf max#Cindy fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf fanart#five nights at freddy's#THIS is another unserious comic btw#BUT I JUST find it funny we’re told thru the whole FNAF movie that like#everyone hates Mike he has no friends most people are angry at him#then a good portion of the folks who actually meet Mike#just genuinely like him#or in some cases like Cindy the ice cream girl straight up have a crush on him#Mike has some unspoken rizz to him idk#everyone loves a sleepy guy 🩵#what makes it funnier is Mike doesn’t even pick up at all people like him#that one ‘meet the Robinson’s’ bit#love you Mike Schmidt you’re so funny 💜💜
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also what about an inverse twins in time au where ford went back to the 60's and stan stayed in the 80's?
Oh this is super interesting
#genuinely i think young Stanley pretends to be ford bc he thinks he’ll be blamed for it#he’s the spare Stan so he’s gotta fill in for his bro while he’s gone#his parents don’t even notice the finger thing like…#and at first Stanford doesn’t really think anything of it but#I reckon it clicks for him and he feels SO bad because are you joking???#meanwhile in the future:#stan: what do we do??#ford: I am a literal child???#and Stan is a figurative child so it evens out#ford thinks fidds is really cool though if they meet#he’s all like “I have a friend????”#:(((#my art#ask#gravity falls#twins in time au#stan pines#stanley pines#ford pines#stanford pines
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Being a “Fun Fact !” kind of autistic is all fun and games until you get halfway through sharing an interesting tidbit and realize that it probably wasn’t appropriate to share in polite company and now you have to deal with the consequences :(
#autism#neurodivergent#adhd#fun facts#GOD I’m such an idiot#anyways now a 10 year old is out there looking up swear words online and it’s all my fault :(#I got so excited by the fact that I knew a fun fact#that I didn’t stop to think that maybe not everyone knows that fun fact for a reason :(#it’s like explaining how to successfully bury a body at a book club#or explaining the dangers of Scientology to your sister’s boyfriend the first time you meet him#or debating gay sex positions with your best friend in front of your mom#no matter how much I wish to be a beacon of knowledge in this world#sometimes there are things others just don’t want to know#and consciously that’s valid but the autism ? I does not care
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Can't wait for this week's episode
Bonus Guest Star:
#misfits and magic#misfits and magic 2#mismag 2#misfits and magic 2 spoilers#mismag 2 spoilers#sam black#sam britain#k tanaka#whitney jammer#evan kelmp#art#who is Zeke and will the party meet him#I need Evan to have an aneurysm#make him have to roll another death saving throw#manifesting that Sam is friends with Jeremy Renner if only for the bit
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fanfic is so good bc the premise of some genres of fic are just inherently funny. I want these two grizzled crime drama protagonists to have some fucking fun for once, so they go to a water park. I dont care how i have to logic my way into them going there i dont care who has to drag them Theyre Going
#this isnt abt a particular fandom btw just like a general observation#basically: if ur trying to write outside the genre of the media ur in its gonna be so fun for me to read#its like explaining to your friends why kirby should be at the next united nations meeting. youre right and i love you but How
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Meemaw Bucchi should meet meemaw Felmier, both grandsons are in the same sport team, imagine both of them on the stadium with a shirt of them and screaming at the top of their lungs to crush the enemy team!
Oh... Oh God... OH MY GOD......
I need to draw this!!!!!!!!
All I can think about is them fighting/scolding anyone who had the AUDACY to stop them or shout louder than them.
#twst#grandma bucchi#ask#i mean#COULD YOU IMAGINE?????#twst WE NEED THEM TO MEET UP#granny Felmier and granny Bucchi NEED to be best friends ASAP#they would get along so well#vovó bucchi
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#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#idia shroud#my art#idea for a lost in a book event where they meet pooh and friends#eeyore#winnie the pooh
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Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.
He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.
Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.
This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.
He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.
A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.
"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.
The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.
He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.
Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.
His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--
"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.
For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.
"Why?" He snarls.
Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."
The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"
Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.
"No takesies-backsies?"
"It's yours."
The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."
The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."
"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.
---
13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.
It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.
In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.
He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--
"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"
Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--
"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."
"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.
"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."
His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"
"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.
Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."
"And now?"
Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."
And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."
He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.
"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.
"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."
"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.
They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.
From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.
"So, marriage...that still off the table?"
Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."
#what if eddie uses the bat as a pocket square at their wedding what then#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#fluff#friends to lovers#childhood first meeting#post-canon#bat plush#carnival#carnival games#steve gives eddie a plush#eddie falls in love immediately#childhood crush#all the dads suck
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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I’ve already said it, I’ll say it again, Mal du Pays is such a visceral and clever word to describe Siffrin’s Sadness. When I first saw it in game it genuinely made me pause like. Yes, it translates to homesickness. But it has the literal word for country in it. “Country sickness”. For a guy whose core problem is that his childhood, his culture, his country is missing. One could argue it’s a twisted pun. I’m obsessed with it.
#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers#isat siffrin#isat mal du pays#isat fanart#my art#in stars and time spoilers#isat headcanon#not done yapping: like you meet mdp at a point where the Big Problem is the loops and siffrin's fear of being abandonned by the party#and then Mal du Pays shows up and it hits you#thats the core of every fucking issue Siffrin has#his country and how it fucked everything for him#his bad memory making him forget too much and making him feel like a horrible friend and making him think that surely#hell also be forgotten#because hes a bad friend and a mess and is missing half of his fucking life#he holds onto the party with everything he has but also feels an infinite amount of shame about it because Hes A Bad Friend#hea so scared to forget whats important to him just like he forgot his past#just#ough
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Sam Nightingale texting The Seven groupchat going "ZELDA Gorgug just posted his new girlfriend and she is a short, awkward barbarian in a hoodie, what a loser, he's obviously still obsessed with you" and Zelda going "Sam chill the fuck out Gorgug and I are cool it's fine"
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#the seven#in my headcanon Zelda meets Mary Ann and they hit it off great#if you say friends with your ex and your ex has a type that's a great way to make friends actually
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FNAF Vanny and Michael if they met as teens
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf fanart#fnaf vanny#fnaf vanessa#michael afton#security breach#fnaf 4#A good portion of folks wanted teen Michael and Vanny to meet#SO finally I delivered on that request 🩵#TBH it was really fun to draw them too#they kinda just match each other#Michael would definitely try and bully Vanny#but I wanna believe Vanny as a teen could talk back BAHA#So stunlocks him HFHFHH#they’d bump heads at first but I think they could be friends#they’d still pick on each other still though#they are both lonely kids with awful dads so they’d get each other#maybe I’ll draw more of them we’ll see
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star abducted :3
#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers#loop#siffrin#myart#fanart#pls clck on the frst picture tumblr destroyed my line quality ;v;#tfw you almost meet your parents and you are nowhere near emotionally prepared for that-- let alone being emotionally prepared-#- to meet your younger self who immediately adopts you as their best star friend#:3#helpful imaginary friend loop#littol siffrin pulls up an extra chair at the dinner table and everyone goes along with it#but Loop is actually sitting there#and watching their family eat and banter in ways that are both so painfully familiar yet alien#everyone is asking littol Siffrin about their star friend (yknow like indulging what they think is a kid making up an imaginary friend)#and littol Siffrin is 'they're just being shy right now!'#'but i'll ask them later!'#i don t think i'll be drawing more of this to make an official au out of it bc i just wanted an excuse to draw littol siffrin#but i would not mind if people built on top of it :3c
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Okay I've had this in my head for, like, a week now and I need answers dammit
The poll's just there for posterity, but you can also leave your answer in the comments or a reblog if you're comfortable!
#this is for my sanity in case i ever somehow meet any of yall in person one day#i am a hugger when comfortable! friends and family only typically.#text#the cubed one's content#poll
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