#he's an angel btw

[jokerownsmysoul]

picrew

thank you so much @thepurpleprince and @into-crazy for tagging me! 💙🌷 I'm always down for making a picrew, it's been a while 🤭✨as per tradition I made a lil Arthur too🤎

I tag: @tally-kiza, @daincrediblegg, @arthurflecksgirl, @melis-writes, @rosesloveletters as always no pressure if you don't want to! 🤎

[bigboobyhalo]

the anger inside of me

[sanjiaftersex]

cant stop thinking about when the strawhats were having sandwiches for breakfast and Law was like I HATE BREAD so sanji served rice cakes especially for him

[beastlyidiocy]

my sweet old man who is genuinely too kind for the world he lives in :(

[jinxed-sinner]

I love that pretty much all the MLM Hazbin ships are old man yaoi.

Lucifer is older than the Earth itself

Angel Dust died in 1947 in his 30s, making him probably around his 110s in the show

Husk died in the 1960s in his 60s or 70s, making him around the same age as Angel

Alastor died in 1933 in his 30s or 40s, making him a little older than Angel

Adam is literal thousands of years old

Vox died in the 1950s in his 30s or 40s, making him a little younger than Alastor

Like I just realized this and I feel like this

[maiko-coy]

You're my angel Angel baby, angel You're my angel, baby Baby, you're my angel Angel baby

[wazzi2ya]

Husk: I'll be giving all of you nicknames so I don't have to bother remembering who's who.

Husk: Lucifer is the King.

Husk: Charlie is the Queen.

Husk: Alastor is the Ace.

Alastor: Why does everyone keep calling me that.

Husk: Vaggie is the 10.

Vaggie: Nice.

Husk: Pentious is the 2, 'cause it looks like him.

Husk: Angel is the 9--

Angel Dust: Hey why ain't I the Queen or the 10--

Husk: --cause I'm the one you need.

Angel Dust: Awwwwww, Kitty~

Husk: And Niffty is...the Joker.

Niffty: Yay!

[orangehalfpeeled]

ZITS PJAMA PARTY !!!

omggg heyy i have been fighting for my life against art block recently but i persevere!!!!!! im winning and i hope it stays that way,, anywhoo i miss posting so im gonna try to do that more. until next time!!!👋👋😘

[soupdreamer]

He should’ve been at the club

[ikarakie]

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)

[tinseltownie]

need oscar's reaction to his mum's podcast knowing full well that it's going to be nonchalant because of said podcast

[jkvjimin]

you're a shooting star I see, a vision of ecstasy 🎶 cr. namuspromised

[pink-alien-queen]

I'm tired of Angel Dust being presented as the feminine, ditzy damsel in distress in fanfics. He's a grown ass man in hell with a mafia past. Like yes he is being abused but not because he is "cute and weak". I've read enough of the "Husk please save me" stories.

Angel is intense and violent and Husk seems to be the most impressed by him when he's covered in blood with a gun. Why isn’t there more of that? Husk being so incredibly drawn to Angel’s strength and masculinity. How he is simultaneously beauty and horror, packed into one.

[eliounora]

oh aziraphale would like company? time to weaponise this information

[rottingraisins]

The book of Faulkner - chapter 6, verse 48

[julitatas]

✨ He´s just a girl ✨

I had the feminine urge to draw him naked ok?

don't judge me