#not bothering with the tag list this time :/

[tkomptgoedluv]

icantbelieveiletyougetaway.

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, they’re so in love with each other it hurts but can’t admit it, joost just wants to be her everything, angst, hurt, comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,156.

warnings: very brief allusion to drugging, heavy and frequent references to SA, violence, vague mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: in my head this takes place in 2021-2022 when joost had that really short, almost buzzcut like hair? like the wachtmuziek era. also, very sorry this is late!! it’s still only been half-proofread and i’m not even sure i like how i wrote the ending but here she is anyway. i love her and i hope you do too 💋.

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

with shaking hands, you fumbled around the bathroom floor to find your phone. your chest was heaving, the cries that you struggled to keep quiet were getting all caught up in your throat as you fought meekly through the nausea. you wiped at your face again, desperate to clear your vision and leaving behind a mixture of tears, snot, and smeared mascara on the back of your hand.

the room itself was dark, barely lit up by a singular dim, yellow light, though despite the shadows you could still see how everything was spinning. you couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had — it hadn’t felt like a lot, you weren’t a lightweight by any means but you didn’t know how else to explain the state you were in. you couldn’t stand up even if you wanted to, your legs strangely numb to the touch and the pounding in your head made staying on the floor all the more appealing anyway.

face down on the grimey, tiled floor you found your phone laying just underneath the sink. you ignored the low battery warning as you swiped through your contacts, squinting through your tears at the screen as if it would actually help you see any better. you were only looking out for one name; the third out of the four that were listed under the letter ‘J’, and the only name to have an emoji next to it.

over the sound of the heavy, techno bass that seemed to shake the walls and the buzz of a hundred different people all talking amongst each other, you heard the line start to dial. it didn’t make sense to call him out of everyone else that could possibly help you; he was infamously known for never picking up the phone. it was ironic for someone so notoriously attached to their screens, his face typically glued to either his phone or his ipad.

but still, you hadn’t so much as thought twice about it as you clicked on his contact and then the call button. With your head tilted back against the wall and your knees curled up tightly against your chest, you prayed to any god listening that by some miracle, he wouldn’t be busy.

“hallo?”

you let out a whimper at the mere sound of his voice, a small, pathetic noise that quickly turned into a cry that you didn’t bother to stifle. he called out your name for a second time, though now in a tone that was much softer than the one before it.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s late.” you paused to take a breath, your voice having cracked like glass as you spoke. “but i need your help. i don’t…joost, i don’t know what to do.”

“it’s okay, just take a big breath for me.” for just a moment you heard shuffling around on the other end of the line. with each of his footsteps the background noise grew quieter until it disappeared completely, following the sound of a door being shut. “where are you?”

“i’m at…i’m at this house but i uh, i really don’t wanna be here anymore. do you think you could…can you just come get me, please? i’m sorry.”

over the sound of a drum and bass beat that played so obnoxiously loud, you struggled to catch all the whispers from joost’s side of the phone call. there was another voice there, that much you could hear, and you struggled to place it despite how familiar it sounded. you tried to concentrate on the faint muttering, straining your ears to hear it over the song that blared just below you.

but then you jumped when the banging started. a sudden flurry of fists pounding against the wood and making the bathroom door rattle within its hinges. from the deep laughs that followed, chances were it was just a group of guys trying to be funny, probably thinking it was one of their friends getting lucky on the other side. and yet still, you found yourself gasping for breath as you choked back fresh tears, all the blood that ran through your veins turning cold.

“schatje? did you hear me?”

you could only hum back in response.

“i said i need you to send me your location, okay? and then i’ll come get you, i promise.”

it was the moment you figured out how to do so that your phone finally gave up on you. after hitting send, the little map displaying your whereabouts popping up in yours and joost’s text chain, your screen began to freeze. in a moment of panic you managed to choke out that you were locked away in a bathroom before it all went black, leaving you to stare at the taunting dead battery symbol.

you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. in a house crammed full of people, perhaps even a few too many than it was built to hold, you felt alone. just a few minutes ago that was all you wanted, to be by yourself, but now it left you with a ringing in your ears. the absence of joost’s voice was enough to throw you inside what felt like a black hole, where time seemed to slow the longer you waited for him.

you found a brief comfort in watching the time pass on the old, analog clock that hung high on the wall opposite you; you figured it was a better thing to focus on besides the sharp ache between your legs. it helped keep you distracted from the way everything just hurt now, whatever it was that was in your system already starting to wear off. without it numbing you to the pain of it all, you could feel the headache brewing behind your eyes and the sting of your split lip.

with each minute that dragged by, the slow, high-pitched tick of the clock echoing inside your ears, your mind began to slip further and further away. every time that you closed your eyes you could see it happening all over again; you could feel his hands back on you, ripping at your clothes and bruising your skin.

all the tears that you had only just managed to blink away came rushing back, continuing to decorate your face with more long, dark streaks of black. surely, this was going to be the thing to finally break you. there would never be any redemption or recovery for you — he’d get to live the rest of his life without burden whilst this was bound to be the death of you.

the more you unravelled, the more erratic your cries grew with hiccups racking your body and a deep burning in your eyes. for once you found yourself grateful for the music’s mind-numbing volume, though somehow it still wasn’t enough to mask the sound of a soft tapping against the bathroom door. like a coward you froze, failing to answer back before you heard your own name being yelled out to you, followed by a harsher knock.

“hey it’s me, it’s joost. can you open the door please?”

as you steadily climbed to your feet, using the edge of the sink to help push you up, your knees began to shake. they threatened to buckle out from under you with every step that you took, each limp towards the door sending a short stabbing pain up to your abdomen. the sensation made you wince, your jaw clenched and a grip on the door handle so strong that it turned your knuckles white.

it was almost sardonic how despite being in a house so loud, everything went quiet as soon as that door swung open. the music never stopped nor did anyone dare to change its volume, but all joost could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears as his eyes met yours. all he could do was swallow, pushing down the bile that was quickly rising up his throat.

even in the low, warm light of the bathroom, he could see the streaked mascara that painted your face and the bloodied lip that was still trickling down your chin. your favourite shirt, the one that he himself had bought you, was torn and just about hanging off your shoulders. it exposed a trail of black and blue spots that started along your shoulder and went all the way down your arms, a couple even dotted down your legs.

joost uttered your name, his voice barely audible over the music downstairs. the corners of your frown twitched, your bottom lip quivering as you shook your head, already answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. from where you stood he could see you shaking, your knees weak and barely holding you up right. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, an arm locking around your waist as his hand found the back of your head, keeping you hidden in his chest.

“jesus christ, what happened to you?”

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the right words to even try and explain what it was you had gone through. you could only weep into the fabric of joost’s jacket, so exhausted and overwhelmed that you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together in front of him. but it was more than enough of an answer for joost who just held you tighter the harder you cried, fighting back tears of his own.

pulling away as gently as he could, joost still kept you in his grasp. his hands cupped either side of your jaw, calloused thumbs wiping away stray-fallen tears as his eyes danced over your face. with a gaze so intense, you could see his eyes growing sadder the longer he looked you over in the dull light of the bathroom.

“i left stunts outside — he’s still in the car. we could…we should go to the hospital.”

“no!” your own dramatic change in tone caught even you off guard. you couldn’t help it, you were panicking now, pulling joost back by his sleeve as he tried to guide you out of the bathroom. the action made you wobble and almost trip over your own feet, flinching at the sudden cramp you felt deep in your stomach. joost’s grip on you hardened, not nearly enough to hurt but enough to keep you from falling back and hitting your head on the sink. “not tonight. please, i just wanna go home. i’ll be fine.”

“you can barely fucking stand, schatje. you need help.”

“then i promise i’ll go in the morning! but right now i just really need you to take me home, okay? i’m begging you.”

perhaps if joost had a little bit more of a backbone and wasn’t so hopelessly head over fucking heels for you, he would’ve had the courage to say no. he would have been able to look you in the eye and still say that he was going to get you to a doctor, whether you wanted to go or not. but no matter how much he wanted to, how much he hated what you were asking of him, he couldn’t. feeling you trembling in his hands and hearing the fear that shook your voice meant there was longer a single thing that joost wouldn’t do for you.

you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, regardless of all the very non-platonic things the two of you had done together over the years. as far as you were concerned it was just something that you’d do sometimes, only ever as friends. there were never any conversations about it the next morning, never any acknowledgment for what it was you had done the night before; it was almost like it never happened until it would undoubtedly happen again. you always liked it like that though — as long as it meant that you never had to think about how you really felt.

joost, on the other hand, was painfully aware of what he felt about your situation, about you. it was never just sex for him, not even once, and he wanted to talk about it. and he tried to, a couple of times, spending the first few mornings after trying to coax you back into bed just so he could hold you skin-to-skin for a little while longer. but you never wanted to stay and you never wanted to talk about it, either, so joost stopped. he let it become another pain he had to live with and spent each day telling himself that he was okay with that.

it was with only a slight hesitation that he nodded before standing back up straight, slipping his big black jacket off his arms and draping the material gently over your shoulders.

you let joost take on most of your weight as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you back through the house as you focused on just trying to make it down the stairs without tripping. to say that the place was packed was an understatement. people were crammed into every room like sardines, dancing and grinding against each other with stiff, swinging jaws. you hadn’t even heard what it was that had been said over the music, its volume still just as loud and disorienting as it had been when you first arrived.

but joost had heard every word, somehow, despite the sound of his own song polluting the room. it made him freeze on the spot, pulling you to a stop right along with him as he slowly turned to face the group of guys that were standing just in front of the front door. you felt your throat start to close at the sight of him amongst them, standing front and centre with a sick grin plastered across his face, his eyes darting between you and joost.

“what did you just say?”

it might have been the gruff, nauseating voice that you recognised, or maybe it was those ring-heavy hands of his that you could still feel pressed into your skin. you didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because you knew it was him.

“i said good luck with that one, dude. she doesn’t go down easy; kept trying to fight me the whole time.” his stare then fell from joost onto you, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. “but we still had our fun though, didn’t we schat?”

the crack of joost’s knuckles colliding with his jaw was something you heard before you saw it; the thud of him hitting the ground following soon after. a chorus of screams and cheers rang painfully in your ears as you watched a small circle quickly form around you. anyone that could still see straight had either ran from the fight or pushed forward to get a better view of it, their phones held high and already recording.

“bet that made you feel like a man, huh? forcing yourself on a girl half your size. you piece of fucking shit, i should fucking kill you!”

in all the years you’d known him, you had never seen joost like that before; his voice low and angry as his shouts drowned out the music. he hadn’t waited for him to get back up before throwing another punch, the sharp crunch of his noise breaking making you wince and your eyes water.

you went to step forward, your hands already reaching out to grab joost’s arm when one of his friends pounced. a shriek was ripped out from you when a fist struck joost right across the cheek, knocking him into you hard enough to almost send you both tumbling to the floor. any chance for you to try and intervene again vanished when you were pushed back before you could get close enough, joost quickly shoving you behind him as he swung for the other guy.

a strong pair of arms wrapped your middle and pulled you further back as you cried for them all to stop, keeping you locked against their chest no matter how hard you thrashed. distance was put between you and the fight when you were picked up and half-dragged out the door, joost’s blond hair disappearing from sight amongst the growing crowd around him.

the bitter air of the early morning stole your breath, your chest tight and aching as the cold consumed you. small flakes of snow drifted down from the paleing sky, dusting each rooftop and the old, cracked pavements in a thin layer of white. still, there were a handful of people gathered on the house’s front stairs, clad in various leather and latex, that only stood and watched as you were hauled away from the party.

“get the fuck off me! we’ve gotta go back, we can’t just leave him! stuntje, please!”

your feet only met the floor again once you were next to stunt’s car, safely across the street. even from there, you could hear the childish chanting of ‘fight! fight! fight!’ and the occasional glass break from inside.

“martijn -”

“- stay here; i’m gonna go get him.”

you weren’t allowed to argue, so you just did what you were told. for four minutes you sat waiting in the back of the car with the heaters on full blast and still shivering as you nestled yourself deeper into joost’s jacket. after another minute you saw them heading back your way, their pace fast as they slipped past the last few people that loitered on the steps. in the glow of the streetlights you could just about make out the soft shade of purple that was joost’s eye, and the deep scowl that contorted stuntje’s face.

neither of them spoke as they joined you in the car but for joost, you never really gave him the chance to. his seatbelt hadn’t even clicked into place yet before you were turning away from him, desperate to pretend that he wasn’t there burning holes into the side of your head. if joost knew that you could see him staring from the corner of your eye, he didn’t care. if anything, he probably would’ve hoped that it might have made you look back at him, because then that at least would’ve been something.

but seeing joost storm out of that house with a violet eye and raw knuckles, having just risked everything for you without a second thought, it scared you more than you wanted to admit. he was only supposed to come find you, and bring you back home. you never wanted a fight, never wanted joost to wind up with a black eye over you. so no, you couldn’t look at him — couldn’t even talk to him, either.

except your silent treatment didn't last very long, did it? it couldn’t, because joost wasn’t going to let you get away with it this time. for as long as he had known you, you always had this habit of internalising what you felt and shutting down. it never mattered what it was you were going through, you just wouldn’t talk about it.

this time though, he wasn’t going to let you disappear in on yourself again, and he wasn’t going to let you shut him out, either.

as soon as the car came to a stop, joost was up and already outside your car door. with a sweet smile, gentle hands were pulling you up and slowly helping you onto your feet before you had the chance to protest. there was a part of you that wanted to, now too proud to admit that you still needed his help. already, he had done more than enough, even too much, for you.

still, you didn’t dare to fight it — or him, rather. besides a small goodbye to stuntje, no words were spoken as he slipped an arm under your knees and pulled you up to his chest. it was like that, that he carried you up the three flights of stairs of your building, glancing down at you every so often with soft, worried eyes. it was miraculous how he managed to open your front door with you still in his arms, his very own key to your home dangling from the clip on his jeans.

it wasn’t long before the soft leather of your sofa was dipping underneath your weight, its cushion beneath you feeling cold against the bruised flesh of your thigh. joost left you for only a second, just to switch on a couple of the lamps you had dotted around and to dig out your old first aid kit from the bathroom.

you still weren’t really looking at him, not even as he perched on the edge of your coffee table and carefully took your jaw in his hold. the brush of the alcohol wipes along the small cuts that marked your face stung and made you wince, your nose scrunching up at the pain. a string of quiet apologies followed as joost concentrated on cleaning you up, wiping away each and every smear of blood and smudged makeup.

the longer that you sat there whilst joost devoted all of his time and energy to you, the more teary-eyed you felt yourself becoming again. it felt almost…foreign to feel so loved after everything, like you were still somehow worth saving. there was no way that you could possibly deserve it — nothing you could’ve done to deserve having someone adore you so unconditionally without earning it.

and yet here he was, your joost, doing anything and everything to try and help, and you couldn’t even fucking look at him.

the only thing you could do was cry. the way you clutched your mouth did little to muffle the sounds of your distress and it drew back his attention after he turned away only to throw out all of the dirty, used wipes. it was the guilt that was doing this to you, the guilt of knowing that you were the reason why joost now had a black eye. that joost had risked his whole career by starting that fight, and you had been the one to punish him for it.

a warm hand squeezed your knee as another tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. it took a few tries of quietly calling out your name to finally get you to meet his eyes, but eventually you got there. nothing could have prepared you for just how sick he looked, the bags under his eyes seeming considerably darker than before and a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“i’m sorry i did this. i never should’ve gone with him, i know i shouldn’t have because i know that i know better but i still went and i should’ve done something more, i could’ve hit him harder or yelled, and i’m sorry i called you because your eye, that was me, that was my fault and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i -”

with your face pressed flat against his chest, his sudden embrace almost swallowing you whole, you couldn’t find the rest of your slurred, blubbering words. somehow, at some point, joost manoeuvred you both onto the sofa and with his arms around you, kept you curled up against his side. a few fingers moved up the back of your neck to scratch your scalp as others held onto your hip.

it was the only thing he could think to do to shut you up, to calm you down enough to take big, slow breaths, in and out.

he didn’t have it in him to let you finish that sentence.

delicate reassurances were mumbled into your hair, quiet ‘you’re okay’’s and faint ‘it wasn’t your fault’’s becoming mantras that helped soothe the pain in your chest. you wanted to believe him and knew that you didn’t. you knew that as the deep baritone of his whispers slowly lulled you to sleep, you’d wake up with that pain still very much there.

but joost wasn’t going to stop trying anytime soon, noor was he going anywhere. it was one of the few things you’d actually let him do for you, making himself a home on your sofa whenever you would have one of your episodes. he’d sleep there, eat there, work there. sometimes joost would spend entire weeks of his life in your living room just so that he could know for sure you were still alive and breathing.

he was the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort. you could feel his fingers running through your hair as you curled up even further into his side, his voice still low in your ear. it was becoming to struggle just to keep your eyes open, but you knew that he wouldn’t mind.

you could fall asleep just to wake up with that same ache in your heart still there, but joost would still be there too. for now, that was all you needed.

[inkoherentwriting]

WIP WEDNESDAY 11/13/24

(I actually have a couple of ill-fated wip wednesdays in my drafts that I forgot but for now I'll focus on the present instead)

here i am! Let's go and see if i can format these tags "properly" this time! as always tags are merely a suggestion; if you don't feel like participating there's no penalty! I understand not having energy and what not <3 (conversely, always feel free to say I tagged you even if you're not on this list!)

tagging: @priafey @avantegarda @hannah-heartstrings @dirty-bosmer (for next time >:] mwahahahaha) @druidx

@thescrolls-haveforetold @azures-grace @thequeenofthewinter @apolline-lucy

the wip below was for day 5 of tes fest but i. as usual. got behind. maybe i'll publish it on it's own (though... are you allowed to post tes fest fics superbly late to the collection???)

I told myself that sitting alone in complete darkness did not bother me because I am an Argonian. Argonians are of the Hist-- as my mother told me from a young age. The Hist is like one massive tree that connects to each and every Argonian; therefore, I was currently being a root of the Hist rather than one of its leaves or branches. Every tree keeps its roots in total darkness for as long as it lives. I told myself this situation would turn out fine and that my mother would inevitably notice I had yet to return home. Tree roots would not let such simple things as being held captive bother them anyway, right? But these indistinguishable noises-- some which almost seemed to be voices-- that were scattered throughout my hearing made the prospect of sitting still very unsettling for me. It was worse with this metal cage keeping me trapped in one little section of Hackdirt’s cavernous underbelly. Awful, awful Hackdirt.

[kreftropod]

It's been another year, time to bring the October lists out. As is more or less tradition by now, I'll be doing the Goretober challenge again. Like last year I've decided to make my own, shorter list to give myself and anyone else who'd like to follow it more days for each prompt. Feel free to share and use however you like!

I'll be tagging all my Goretober related stuff with "goretober". Block that tag if you don't want any of that on your dash. I'll try to tag everything properly with more specific tags as well. Stay safe! <3

ID in alt text, and here's a text-version of the list below the cut:

Goretober 2023

A shorter Goretober list for myself and anyone else who want to participate, but want fewer prompts and more time for each prompt. Feel free to shorten the list even more by only doing the prompts on the left or on the right! (or every other day, if following the text-version)

There are 8 Prompts in total, and below each prompt there are three extra words. The extra words are there as inspiration, but are Not necessary to include if you don’t want to.

Day 1-4

Prompt: Infection

insects, illness, rot

Day 5-8

Prompt: Burned

melting, charred, blistered

Day 9-12

Prompt: Open wounds

blood, cuts, torn

Day 13-16

Prompt: Insides

bones, brains, viscera

Day 17-20

Prompt: Face Trauma

eyes, mouth, teeth

Day 21-24

Prompt: Broken

bruises, dislocation, amputation

Day 25-28

Prompt: Hands (or paws)

nails (claws), deformed, tools

Day 29-31

Prompt: Plants

invasive, suffocating, poison

[camelspit]

i love them and they love eachother

[theswedishpajas]

Magma art dump of random gay Stanley things (Featuring me! Go figure!)

Anything that isn’t in some kind of blue or yellow is by one of my friends

[solarmorrigan]

Little epilogue to the “Steve crochets Eddie a scarf” story (I promise I’m done now)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Ao3

“What are you working on?” El asks, leaning slightly into Eddie’s space to watch as he works.

Eddie pulls his latest stitch tight and tilts the fabric a bit so El can see the patch he’s securing. “I’m putting my new battle vest together,” he says. “Since someone bled all over the last one.”

“You knew I was bleeding when you gave it to me!” Steve snaps from the other end of the couch. “Anyway, we salvaged most of the patches, I don’t see why you have to keep complaining about it.”

“Because you’re so pretty when you’re irritated,” Eddie says, and he can hear Will give a snort of laughter from where he’s bent over a sketchpad on the floor.

Baby Byers is the latest addition to their little group of creatives; he doesn’t do anything with yarn or thread, but he does set up with colored pencils or, sometimes, a little set of watercolors and listens while Steve and Joyce gossip.

(His presence has stumped Steve’s continued efforts at naming the group, however.

“Five people probably makes up, like, an actual circle, but he doesn’t do… fabric-related things,” Steve ponders.

“Call it a craft pentagram,” Eddie suggests.

“No,” Steve vetoes immediately. “Besides, it’s six when Murray shows up.”

Right. That guy.

Eddie isn’t quite sure what he thinks of Murray Bauman just yet; he doesn’t appreciate the relentless roasting of his and Steve’s “honeymoon phase” (Bauman’s words, not his), but it is funny watching him threaten to teach Steve how to knit. In either case, Bauman and Joyce are good friends, so he’ll have to be included in the final group count.

Eddie and Steve decide to think on the name a little longer.)

“What is a battle vest?” El asks.

“It’s a metal thing. You put stuff like patches and pins onto a vest to show off the bands you like, the stuff you support, the stuff you don’t support – shit like that.” Eddie spreads the vest out a bit more to show El what he’s gotten done so far; he’s collected a few more patches since this spring, and he’s still considering what he wants to do with the pack panel, but he thinks it’s really coming together.

El runs a finger over the Motörhead patch. “And you sew it yourself?”

“That’s the only way to do it, kid.” Eddie grins. “My uncle Wayne taught me to sew when I came to stay with him. Said it was something everyone should know how to do.” Here, El nods wisely, and Eddie can see both Steve and Joyce grinning in his periphery. “I’m pretty sure I fidgeted and fussed through every single lesson, but he was right. I was glad I at least knew the basics once I started putting my first vest together.”

El studies his work a little longer before declaring, “It’s bitchin’,” and startling a bark of laughter out of Eddie.

“Thank you very much,” he says, pulling the vest back into his lap. “At least someone appreciates it.”

“Not taking the bait,” Steve drawls.

“Did you do these, too?” El draws Eddie’s attention back; she’s brushing a thumb over the bottom hem of the vest, where Eddie has sewn in a tiny swarm of bats in purple thread.

“Oh. Yeah, those are mine,” Eddie says. “That’s a little different from what I’m doing with the patches. Just some dumb embroidery.”

“I like it,” El says, looking up at him. “Would you show me how?”

Eddie blinks, taken aback by the sincerity in the request. “Uh – well, yeah, sure. I think I’ve got some extra stuff at home I can bring next time. I’m not, like, the best at it, but–”

“Thank you.” El cuts off Eddie’s uncertainty with a smile. “And I can show you how to crochet.”

Eddie can’t say he’s ever really wanted to learn how to crochet – or that he’d even really known what it was until a few months ago; he’s mostly been content to leave that particular craft to Steve.

He glances over to where Steve is sitting now, frowning over the blanket (afghan?) he’s finally decided to try his hand at; despite what Steve says about not being sure about what he’s doing, it’s coming out beautifully. Eddie knows it’s going to end up a prized possession on Buckley’s bed when it’s done.

From the chair beside Steve’s end of the couch, Joyce catches Eddie’s eye and gives him a sly smile he finds he can’t help but return.

And as Eddie thinks about it, it’s a gift all on its own, isn’t it? Getting to teach someone something you know, getting to learn something from them, too. And hell, you can never have too many hobbies.

“Yeah,” Eddie finally says, turning back to El. “Why not?”

[ra-archives]

And thats why Wild isn't allowed to walk around Skyloft on his own anymore.

Lu-tober day 23-24-25 (Cause my internet hates me lmao)

No prompt, just video :)

This was supposed to come out yesterday but then my interned died thE SECOND I was done. Literally, in the middle of rendering and my music stops working, I get confused, look around, see my internets down. Wasn't even up back in the morning D:

[bredforloyalty]

i'm not sure whether i should go back to this but mutuals, even just like, followers ((anyone i have even the slightest level of familiarity with)), your requests are respected for You i'll trigger tag anything. for Anonymous i will do nothing

[pinkfadespirit]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @salsedinepicta. Thank you!

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to show the art wips I've been working on so I'll go with a snippet from the next chapter of Put On A Show. For context, Merrill and Jowan both work at the clinic in this AU.

“Which friend?” Anders tried not to let any awkwardness show on his face as he realised that he should have expected that Merrill would start asking questions. She’d stop if he asked her to but surely that would only raise more suspicions. “It’s no one you know, Merrill.” “How do you know I don’t know them? I’ve met a lot of people since I started working here. And it feels like Isabela knows everyone. She always has people saying hello to her when we’re out together.” “He’s a new friend. He doesn’t know Isabela either. As far as I know.” Merrill’s eyes widened. “Oh! Is it a date?” Unfortunately, the question came just as Jowan walked out from one of the exam rooms. “What’s that? Anders is going on a date? Is that why you’ve started taking weekends off?” “That’s— no…” “You’re blushing!” said Merrill gleefully. “I bet it’s a date. What’s his name?” Anders, to his dismay, really was blushing, while Merrill and Jowan stared at him in delight and amazement respectively. He wondered how he’d managed to let this happen after being so determined to keep Hawke a secret. And he wondered what he was supposed to say, if it would be more suspicious to try and deny it, or to just let them believe that he had a nice normal date with someone who he’d just happened to meet around the same time he’d managed to save the clinic. In the end it was the surprised look on Jowan’s face that he couldn’t ignore. “Would it be that strange if I had?” he huffed. “I have other interests outside of this clinic, you know.” “You do?” asked Jowan. Anders scowled at him.

Tagging (and hoping it actually works this time): @becauseanders @sweetmage @goth-surana @rusted-pipe-of-wisdom @pappykins @thedastrash @ringneckedpheasant @pyritefes2 @un-shit-yourself @lordnochybaty @spicywarl0ck @illusivesoul

[sirensea14]

Hehe, bendy from @midnightfire830's Speakeasy au (the numbers are a nightmare thus i shielded him in a border XD)

[themaarika]

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original post - browse art posts on this blog without all the reblogs

Tags:

1000xRESIST bayonetta (bayojeanne mostly) gundam witch from mercury hi-fi rush nier, nier automata person of interest (it's really just shoot), root x shaw sayonara wild hearts she-ra signalis sunny and rainy the expanse the locked tomb utena xena warrior princess

External links:

all my Life Is Strange fanart is on my website all POI comics - Comics of Interest read my webcomic Sunny and Rainy

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

HERE IS A COMPREHENSIVE LIST OF PROBABLY MOST OF THE STUFF I LIKE! Feel free to ask me about any of it

PERSONALITY TYPING: INFP 4w3 (471)

BOOKS: Grishaverse, Lord of the Rings, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Song of Achilles, The Prince of Tides, The House in the Cerulean Sea, Harry Potter (unfortunately), Gone With the Wind, His Dark Materials, A Far Wilder Magic, The Hate U Give, The Outsiders, The Devil and the Dark Water, They Both Die At The End, Riordanverse, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Warriors

MOVIES: Titanic, Dead Poets Society, It’s A Wonderful Life, Little Women 2019, NOPE, Pan’s Labyrinth, The Sixth Sense, Terminator (especially 2), Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Addams Family (1991) The Shawshank Redemption, Parasite, Knives Out/Glass Onion, Tar, Harriet, Romeo and Juliet (1968), Interstellar, Forrest Gump, Schindler’s List, The Princess Bride, Get Out, Lady Bird, Silence of the Lambs, The Truman Show, The Wall, 12 Angry Men, Recovery, so so many animated movies (especially WALL-E, The Prince of Egypt, The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Howl’s Moving Castle!), SOME Marvel movies (mostly guardians and spidey)

TV SHOWS (live action): LOST, Breaking Bad, Doctor Who, Person of Interest, Good Omens, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Downton Abbey, Ted Lasso, My So Called Life, Stranger Things, Broadchurch, Alias, Sherlock, Maid, The Last of Us, Dark, Happy Valley, Takin’ Over The Asylum, Our Flag Means Death, The Sandman, Heartstopper, Jessica Jones, Andi Mack, The Queen’s Gambit, Derry Girls, Rivals, The Office, A Series of Unfortunate Events, 1899, Mare of Easttown, Around the World in 80 Days, Time

ANIME AND CARTOONS: Fullmetal Alchemist (both versions), Avatar, Steven Universe, Phineas and Ferb, Death Note, Assassination Classroom, Demon Slayer, Attack on Titan, Monster, Bluey, Spy X Family, Ouran High School Host Club, My Hero Academia, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Toradora, Gravity Falls, Bluey, The Owl House, Cowboy Bebop, Erased, Mob Psycho 100, Kotaro Lives Alone, Ducktales

MUSIC: Queen, Taylor Swift, Will Wood, My Chemical Romance, Fiona Apple, Adele, Jeff Buckley, Olivia Rodrigo, Hozier, Billy Joel, The Beatles, Brandi Carlile, Mitski, The Proclaimers, Janelle Monáe, Florence + the Machine, Sinead O'Connor, Nina Simone, Kelly Clarkson, Beyonce, Pink Floyd, Kendrick Lamar, Billie Eilish, Muse, Alanis Morrissette, The Chicks, Chappell Roan, David Bowie, BTS, Stray Kids, Day-6, Gang of Youths, Pulp, Lana Del Rey, Radiohead, Fefe Dobson, FKA Twigs, Eminem, Heart…

MUSICALS: Les Miserables, Great Comet, Ragtime, Phantom of the Opera, Hadestown, Hamilton, Wicked, Come From Away, Matilda, Falsettos, Jesus Christ Superstar, Anastasia, Evita, The Last Five Years, The Sound of Music, West Side Story, The Clockmaker’s Daughter, Ride the Cyclone, Sweeney Todd, Parade, Little Shop of Horrors, Cats, In The Heights, Into the Woods, She Loves Me, Sunday in the Park with George, Lizzie, Newsies, Bonnie and Clyde, The Secret Garden, The Wild Party, Cabaret, Putnam County Spelling Bee…(I also love Shakespeare!)

VIDEO GAMES: basically just Super Mario Bros and Undertale but boy do I love Super Mario Bros and Undertale

YOUTUBERS: Schaffrillas Productions, Cinema Therapy, The Authentic Observer, Matt Rose, PMSeymour, Katherine Steele, The Swiftologist, FilmCooper, Sideways, Anthony Fantano and too many others to mention

FAVE ROLES I’VE PLAYED: Elsa in Frozen, Morticia in The Addams Family, Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, Iolanthe in Iolanthe, Juror #8 in 12 Angry Jurors

[thecrenellations]

top 5 arts you've made last year

thank you for asking! I made a lot of art I like and am proud of last year - I’ve been a bit unmotivated recently (to everyone who sent palette prompts: hi!), but I feel like I’ve been able to genuinely develop my drawing skills over the past few years ... And I can still feel that when I’m able to get in the groove. So:

Goewin and Abreha from A Coalition of Lions. The other four pieces are just in an order that looked good, but this is probably my favorite from this year. It felt like I was effectively applying my approaches to screenshot redraws/other direct references to my own composition and character design! Also, I love that scene SO much. Maybe that helped, or maybe my secret was that I drew it on a train ride (while listening to a very funny scene in The Game of Kings for the first time), which brings me to …

Will Scott and Lymond’s nighttime argument in the woods, from The Game of Kings. Speaking of no references, I’m not sure what happened to the trees here, but it works somehow, and I like how their postures/expressions turned out.

Gen bothering Helen, a modern sleepover scene for my @hamiathesgiftexchange recipient. Oops, I still haven’t posted this on tumblr, but it’s here. With toothbrush and cloak hug references 😌.

& 5. Two screenshot redraws from The Untamed that turned out particularly well! With detailed faces, even, for the Lan brothers, and a rooftop moment with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

[nyaskitten]

god... I love the feeling of getting over myself and talking to a REALLY cool artist who I admire a lot and becoming friends with them, and then being comfortable enough to share a few wips, and then accidentally reveal lore to them

[being-simba]

Thanks for the tags @onmywayv @ambivartence and @we-survive-endlessly 💖 happy 2024 my listening has been the same since November

Tagging (no pressure) @baekhyunnybyun and @milk-caramel

[iniziare]

Slowly but surely, as I'm dying listening to ZL voice-overs in a playlist. Tag drop #1: OOC.