#just ask me how much i love this man

[graedari]

Coobus Atoobus

[obsob]

oooooooooough i love you i love you i love you!!!! hand in loving hand !!!!!!

[forzathunder]

"I have many fears, most of them about Lucrezia." — Cesare Borgia (The Borgias, 2011-2013) + hints of insecurity

that she adores someone that much / if she will reject his dark nature and act of love and violence as Ursula did / if he truly is not part of her desires / that she easily forgets him

[sciderman]

avenging spider-man #13

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[lifemod17]

Like I'm sorry are you seeing how much this man was INTO IT when he sang Would That I earlier?!??

Also the curls were curling, oh my goodness 😍

Source: x.com

[forcedhesitation]

astarion origin playthrough worth it just for all the extra moments where he does the "sad wet cat" face

[gazkamurocho]

I recently got into the series (starting with Yakuza 0) and your art is feeding me every minute I’m away from my console not playing the game uwu

Omggg you don't know how happy I got by reading your comment ;;💕 Thank you so much!! Yakuza 0 is one of the best gaming experiences out there and I hope it hooks you to play the entire series! Enjoy every second of your journey because it's gonna be a blast ❤

[swashbucklery]

Taylor Alison Swift did not leap from the gallows and levitate down your street so that you could assume she was rivals with number one camp messy serial killer bisexual rockstar Lestat de Lioncourt. They're shit-talking each other's ex-boyfriends over a bottle of wine right now. They're working on several dozen collaborative tracks about how much they want to murder their exes while also calling them crying at 4am. He's not Dylan Thomas. She's not Patti Smith. You get it.

[moeblob]

I am social'd out and very tired.

[sketchy-tour]

While I scream into the void of not finishing any art, have this silly oc interaction of Dandy and Will cause Will's hands are huge and I couldn't stop thinking about how tiny he'd make Dandy's hands look in comparison.

Will Wayward belongs to the lovely @kandavers

[shkika]

i can't get over how cool this fuckin bug is i love seeing it on my dash so much

and i know i've already done it, but GOD I JUST wanna keep giving you all my thanks 😭

i love you (platonic) and your stuff and this website so much it's astonishing how i can spit out my most random thought ever after reading "happy wiggles" and be graced with the gift of A GORGEOUS PIECE OF ART

so THANK YOU SO MUCH for your creativity and passion and for simply being yourself on this wonderful site (your bug will make for a nice addition to the collection of fictional characters in my brain)

thabk you,, here is little wee wee enjoying its wretched meal

[boarloved-art]

i like the car movies a lot.......

[galaxostars]

prongsfoot and wolfstar in the last chapter of Presque Vu by @starsworth

[youmakethelight]

I need scenes where Daryl explicitly shows that he loves Carol for all of who she is as a human. I know we know it, even though that feeling has been fading since the spin-off and even in parts of season 11. But I reallyyy need at least one scene where Daryl catches Carol doing something distinctly Carol and looks at her for a *prolonged* time with unambiguous love all over his face. And then he actively shows and tells her. Like the scenes where Aaron and Rosita see Carol putting herself through pain to kill the horse to feed Alexandria. I need to know that Daryl sees that in her. And I need to see him radiate intense love in her direction because she fucking needs it.

[justaz]

thinkinnn bout arthur pendragon. my baby boy. he's such a bitch but also such a baby girl.

he never felt the love of a mother and relied on his father for all of the love and validation he needed growing up but uther never gave it to him unless he succeeded in battle - probably against druids/sorcerers. arthur never feeling like he was enough, that he was never worthy of love unless he did something for them or won a battle because that was the only time his father looked at him with a modicum of warmth.

being a prince raised to one day be king and being taught to never trust anyone, that as king he can only trust himself, and then watching his father fuck over the people of camelot and going "a king must make hard choices" but arthur never agrees with any of that!! he puts on the aloof asshole act to keep people away so he doesn't get hurt but baby boy wears his damn heart on his sleeve. he cares. SO much. he trusts everyone, no matter how many times he's been betrayed. he does everything he can for his people

he strives for their love and pride because he never got it growing up. he works his ass off to be the best king for his people that he can be, so he can be the best heir for his father that he can be, so he can be the best son for his mother that he can be - all so he can prove that he's good enough and worthy enough of love. yet time and time again, he's betrayed by those he has done nothing but be there for. time and time again, the people he's loved and trusted most have betrayed him and left him like he was nothing. proving to him time and time again that he wasn't enough, that he'll never be enough for their love or loyalty.