#its just me feeling like shit

[dedfly]

winter is comin and i feel under the weather so its selfship time

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[heartorbit]

make a wish! 🍃

happy 1st anniversary, in stars and time 🤍

[wow-sofa-art]

More meme redraws plus a doodle of Kim taking a well-deserved nap in a bubble bath <3

[ilynpilled]

it frankly pisses me off that what is essentially “rapists and abusers should be depicted as monstrous caricatures because humanizing them is inappropriate” is considered a very moral and enlightened position to have on art by so many people. a rapist can feel pain, have moments of vulnerability, be amiable and charming, express remorse and compassion at times, be a victim themselves, and so on in real life. they are even capable of doing good things. they can have different sides to them and have individuals in their lives that they are kind to or have a decent relationship with. they will be a human being, and that fact encompasses a lot. conflating that with the claim that they are entitled to and deserve forgiveness or absolution is an issue. nurturing a mindset that believes they need to be one note and uncomplicated to be a correct and tasteful depiction of a rapist inadvertently falls in line with the logic of “how could they have possibly raped you? they are so normal and kind to me. they did all these good things here and there.” ok that doesn’t change that they are a rapist.

[999999999inadream]

toby fox needs to add like a bit of narration in deltarune abt kris like "they themmed they/themily down the stheirs" cus i cant go on seeing them constantly get he/himmed in yt comment sections

[casualavocados]

Learn from who? Learn from you?

Chen Bowen as CHEN YI & Chiang Tien as AI DI KISEKI: DEAR TO ME (2023)

[sunny-knight]

*WAS IT WORTH IT?

GAAAAAHH posted this on tiktok forgot to post it on tumblr

also i made a work-in-progress overview on tiktok and the sound got removed so im gonna do that for this too 😭😭 BUT AUGGGHHHH THIS THING TOOK YEARS OFF MY LIFE/pos (tbf this comic in general is taking years off my life so LEMME GIVE A LITTLE BACK TO COMMUNITY♥️♥️♥️)

its hard to describe after its all “done” (its not exactly done- but i’m calling it here cause i’m happy with it)

BUT I EXPECTED THAT! SO I RANTED ABOUT IT AS I MADE IT ON MY ART ARCHIVE SERVER!!! HAVE AT YEE

all the little ins and outs :3

since I can only post 1 video per pose ill post the works in progress’ after this- be on the look out cause I ALSO CANT JUST REBLOG THIS 😭😭 videos are weird on tumblr smh

[stevebabey]

Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.

Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.

But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.

Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.

It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.

It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.

She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.

Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.

It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.

He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.

Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.

So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.

He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.

Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.

Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—

“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.

“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.

Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.

“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”

“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”

God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.

“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”

There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.

“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”

He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.

Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.

“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.

“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.

That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.

“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.

“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”

He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.

“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.

“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”

In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.

Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”

Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.

“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”

“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.

If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.

“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”

Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.

“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.

Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.

“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.

“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.

So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.

It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.

now with a part two!

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[demigod-of-the-agni]

The pishacha are manifestations of evil itself, locked within a cursed amulet. The wearer of the amulet is at the mercy of the demon, known for possessing humans and feeding off their host's chakra energy. However, if symbiosis is achieved, the pishacha can grant its host a myriad of powerful abilities.

I just needed to draw something cool okay. I needed to draw some cool goop and some cool looks okay. okay. if I didn't post this I would have exploded okay

[falmerbrook]

Falmer appearance and attire headcanons

(click on drawings for more details and notes!)

Hair

In Skyrim, we pretty much only see two hair styles to go off of: completely bald and the hair the "shaman" have (which are also the only females we see (a post for another day)).

In concept art, particularly Adam Adamowicz's, we see more potential hairstyles. He draws it as wispy and messy, as well as containing braids and the ties we see in the shaman in the game. This art is largely what defines my own interpretation of their hair.

I picture the typical Falmer hair as wavy, thin, wispy, and looking frizzy. Given the high number of hairless Falmer we see, I imagine baldness is common, particularly among males, and sometimes among females. Their hair can be commonly styled into braids or knots to keep it under control.

The ability to grow long, thick hair is less common, but those who can tend to style it in other unique ways. Especially among females, long hair is commonly styled into large dense locs (akin to a Polish plait) and held into shapes using ropes or leather ties.

(While I think the intention with the way their hair is drawn and modelled in the game models and concept art was that it was braided and held up with those ties, before looking at it closely I always sorta interpreted it as too stiff to just be braided. As a result, I developed the locs headcanon and have become kinda attached to it even though I have 0 in game or lore support for it)

Materials

The material used in their clothing is obviously dependent on what is accessible to them, and given their unique situation that makes the materials they use and value unique as well. In Skyrim, we see that almost all of their armor (which is mostly what we see them wearing) and homes are made of chaurus chitin (and potentially shellbug chitin), so this is likely the most common resource available to them for non-combative coverings as well. Other materials from their arthropods companions could include their cocoons, unhatched eggs, etc.

Bones from other creatures (draugr, skeevers, trolls, adventurers, bandits, etc.) underground or from aboveground raids could also be used fairly often. These could also provide a source of leather or fur, albeit not a lot of it.

Falmer groups and subcultures inside or in close proximity to Dwemer ruins probably make regular use of the materials present in those ruins as well. With all the metal and machinery present in Dwemer ruins, metal probably makes regular appearances in their clothing (and general decorations) even if they can't manipulate it themselves. Falmer more separated from Dwemer ruins would make much lesser use of these materials, however. Additionally, We see implications of Falmer preparing, cooking, and potentially cultivating fungus in-game, but see nothing indicating they have any plants in their diet, and therefore it is unlikely they regularly make or use textiles or fabrics in their clothing, and if they do they likely come form Dwemer ruins or raided adventurers/bandits/settlements from the surface.

On that note, we know that there have supposedly been incidents of Falmer coming to the surface to attack its inhabitants and travelers, as well as instances of them killing bandits, adventurers, and researchers who venture below, so it's not far fetched to believe that they have access to some materials from the surface. This could give them some access to furs from surface animals, beads, glass, jewelry, textiles, metal objects, etc. they might not otherwise have access to. The rarity of these material among the Falmer would depend on the amount of access any given group of Falmer have to the surface, but among many of them these materials could be seen as more valuable for their rarity and the difficulty to gain them.

While gemstones and ore might be accessible from both natural deposits and underground ruins, unless they had some kind of auditory function or unique texture, they might not have much value to Falmer.

General Attire/Accessories

I like to imagine that the Snow Elves, and by extension the Falmer, have an innate cold resistance in the same way Nords do, and therefore don't require clothes for the purpose of warmth even in the chilly caves of Skyrim. Additionally, their blindness likely means that wouldn't dress for visual aesthetic either. My thoughts are that they are then left with the sense of sound and touch to communicate with each other, and their clothing and accessories could reflect that.

Falmer clothing, decoration, and society in general is very heavily based on touch and texture and little on appearances. They touch each other very often for both communication, movement, and just general day-to-day interactions, and their clothes isn’t very modest, but the tactile patterns and materials used can communicate certain things such as position in society, “wealth”/power, whether they are taken, single, pregnant, with a child, etc., their roles, their age, notable achievements/skills, who is who, etc. on both their clothes and buildings. The more noise one makes, the more attention they draw and the more they drown out other noises, and the more noise making things they can “afford” to have, so the amount of noise one makes in a Falmer settlement is a status symbol. Certain types of noises or noise makers are more coveted than others (chitin beads are common, while furs are less common, and materials only gained from raiding the surface are rare and coveted).

Some noise making accessories could include:

Dangling metal, bones, beads, chitin, etc. that hangs off of their clothing or ears and jingle/clank against each other (in my drawing I show them as pretty uniform in shape and size, but they would probably be much more irregular than I depicted them)

Bells (metal or other materials) that are affixed to or dangle off of their clothing or as earrings.

Hollow bracelets, anklets, necklaces, or other accessories that are filled with rocks or beads.

Rattles tied to the body (made of chitin, dried hollow chaurus eggs, dried chaurus cocoons, beads, etc.) with leather or rope.

Flute or whistle like tubes made of metal, chitin, or dried and treated tube-like fungus that makes a woodwind-esque noise when air passes through it in a certain way. They have been designed to make noise easily from even the slightest movements.

Dried grasses (more temporary) tied to the body that make a swishy noise. More permanently, a similar thing can be achieved with hair. The hair can be sourced from Falmer (either through just cutting hair or through taking it from fallen enemies) or killed humans/mer/draugr. That sort of thing can also act as a kind of trophy.

Necklaces with various materials dangling close together that jingle against each other.

Various materials can be tied into braids or the leather ties in their hair as well.

Some textural accessories could include:

Beads. Since they wouldn't have the ability to tell the color of the beads, the patterning of beadwork would be based on the roughness, material, size, or shape of the beads. (I'm sorry I suck as drawing beads)

Furs. This wouldn't be as common since the Falmer likely don't have too much interaction with furry mammals, but some they may have access to that are big enough to make clothing/accessories out of include skeevers or trolls (and potentially rarely animals from the surface). A potential meaning of wearing furs could be as hunting trophies, but it could have other meanings as well.

Chaurus chitin would like be the most common material in Falmer attire, and depending on the part of the chaurus body, the size of the chaurus, or the life stage of the chaurus it was sourced from it could have different textures. Some chitin parts could include large spikes and deep groves, while other parts could be smoother and less rough. The use of this chitin in clothing could take advantage of this contrast in textures. Additionally, chitin or shells from shell bugs might be a different texture from the chaurus chitin. (it's unclear to me whether shell bugs are exclusive to the caves around the Forgotten Vale or if we should consider them distributed throughout Skyrim's underground)

The placement of textured components on the body could have their own meaning to it alongside what accessories or textures are being used.

Specific Falmer Subcultures

While most Falmer settlements we see in Skyrim are just a small-ish collection of huts and chaurus corrals, there are two distinctive settlements that are larger, seemingly more organized, and I like to think have their own distinct subcultures worth mentioning: Blackreach and the Forgotten Vale. The unique scope and environment of these Falmer cities (as I like to think of them) could lend to unique clothing cultures as well.

The Falmer of Blackreach have access to a vast Dwemer settlement and have has the space to spread out throughout it more fully since it seems to be more in tact than other Dwemer ruins we see. These guys would likely have a clothing culture much more heavily based on what the can access from these Dwemer ruins (metal scraps, leftover fabrics, etc.)

The Falmer of the Forgotten Vale would also have access to unique resources, such as Vale deer, Vale sabre cats, and frost giants for fur and leather. Additionally, materials accessed from the Chantry of Auri-El such as textiles from clothing, bedding, tapestries, etc. could give them a greater access to fabrics than other Falmer groups. We don't see many close Dwemer settlements to the Vale, so they would have less Dwemeri influence in their clothing than other Falmer groups.

I like to think that the Falmer's evolution exclusively underground has made them poorly equipped to handle the outdoors during the day and has made them particularly susceptible to sunburn, necessitating the need for covering for those in the Forgotten Vale who have significant settlements outdoors. With greater access to textiles and leather, they could use them as coverings when outdoors.

Armor

I actually have very few notes on armor, for two reasons. 1) I hate designing and drawing armor. It is the bane of my existence. 2) I really like the armor they have in game! I think they look awesome aesthetically, and I like how clearly they are made from chaurus chitin. Per usual, Adam Adamowicz's designs seem to have been the major inspiration for the Falmer armor, and he did a great jobs (even if it isn't the most functional looking armor ever).

(off topic but I also just want to add that he draws them with little hairs and tufts on their ears and I love it. ok that is all)

I do have a few thoughts about armor though.

Even attire made of textiles make noise when someone moves in them, and I can imagine moving around in armor, especially armor made of hard, insect shells would make a lot of noise when someone moves around in it. When you're relying on sound to navigate your environment and pinpoint potential threats or targets, wearing something making a lot of noise would not be ideal. On the other hand, getting into a fight unarmored would be a problem.

So here's my solution: heavy armor (see below) would only be worm within the camps/settlements where noise was already high and space is more cramped (and therefore more risky in a fight) as a sort of guard in case they were attacked. Those guarding the settlements along the outside might still wear armor as well, but less of it. Those going out to scout or hunt (if they do hunt) would wear as little armor as possible, and try to wear it strategically so that it wouldn't rub against itself and make noise. This is why most Falmer we encounter in the game are wearing little except for loin cloths and kneepads.

One more idea I have for armor is a specific armor piece. On the note of guarding or protecting a camp or settlement, I imagine the noises of it all (especially with the noise based headcanons I've laid out here) would make it hard to actually catch any potential threats when you can't see. A large slightly concave piece of armor worn behind the head could block out noises from behind the wearer, as well as a help focus sounds ahead of them.

That is all! Thank you for reading! A lot of these concepts around the culture of sound I think could also be applied to their buildings and even a culture of music, but those are posts for another time.

All of the concept art I used was taken from here and all of the Skyrim screenshots are from UESP.

[blueskittlesart]

in the nicest and most non-confrontational way possible. i feel like some of you think that anything that isn't directly openly spelled out for you within a story is "missed potential" or "unexplored." like. sometimes there are implied narratives. sometimes the point is that you as the reader are supposed to think and draw your own conclusions and participate in the story. the writers not directly spelling every little detail out for you doesn't mean that the story is poorly written or missed its own plot details somehow. PLEASE.

[ruporas]

hugs hugs hugs (ID in alt)

[shitpostingkats]

The most important part of the Altissia chapter is when they're being questioned by customs and Ignis looks at their party of:

1) Him 2) A college age punk 3) A man wider and taller than a fridge wearing no shirt and with several enormous scars 4) The actual crown prince of a neighboring country, making no effort to disguise himself

and decides their best cover story is

"✨We are students of the culinary arts.✨"

And it works.