#the hole story

[griefabyss69]

Push

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

[ AO3 ] [ Tip / Commissions post ]

‘HOLE’ wc: 404 | rated: E | cw: None

Steve hates the way he can't stop thinking about Eddie's tongue.

Eddie's got this whole… deal.

His like, rocker thing or whatever; it comes with habits.

The physical drama he employs – constantly stomping around and yelling about the man or whatever, pretending he doesn't know the name of a fucking sport like he was born yesterday, sticking his tongue out at least twice a day, those habits.

Steve hates it.

The face down on his bed, ass up in the air as he fantasizes about Eddie sticking that tongue somewhere he shouldn't, type of hate.

Steve wants to hate his own habit too, but he always cums the hardest when he approximates the feeling of Eddie's stupid tongue by flicking his lubed fingers gently over his hole, wondering how deeply Eddie could shove it inside.

And Eddie hates Steve, includes him within Enemy #2, right underneath The Man; Jocks.

He gets it – half the time he wishes he wasn't subjected to jocks either – but given how Eddie seems to think his little devil horn display is gonna freak him out like he's a part of Jason's crew, he sees a lot of his tongue. He shows it off, curls it at the tip, strong and flexible… It always has him clenching around thin fucking air, gets him hard at light speed.

The problem doesn't go away when they start talking either, halfhearted pleasantries when Steve wants to buy what he's selling. Eddie behaves, takes his job seriously, but he licks his lips like every two minutes and runs the tip of it over his teeth while he's thinking and looks at him with dark eyes and –

Asks him things like "You good?" when Steve stares too fucking long.

"Yeah, sorry man," he answers, pulling out his wallet. "Just thinking."

Eddie's smile is almost genuine and Steve needs to feel his teeth where nobody should want to put them.

"Alright," he shrugs easily, and accepts payment without bothering to count it by now.

Steve always tips well. He knows it's desperate behavior, but it's how they've gotten to the point where Eddie'll even say more than three words to him. He's curious about if he offers other services, but there's no decent way for him to ask "How much to let me sit on your face?" without being certain he does.

He just pockets his weed and stares at Eddie's mouth once more, freshening his memory for when he fucks himself tonight.

[dare-g]

The Hole Story (2005)

[dungeons-and-dictions]

[tangledinink]

Will Swannie miss his wings? He’s been like that for about a year now, he probably gotten use to the wings and the pain in his calves/legs…would Donnie get like….phantom pain or something because of the missing wings? Would he in some way try to get them back or have a reminder of them? Will Donnie even try or want to dance again?

donnie doesn't usually dance on pointe anymore-- it was a rare occasion pre-curse, and now post, the physical demand is typically too much for him to handle. but when your little brother knows levitation magic, anything is possible for a special occasion.

generally speaking, though?

there's no way he's ever gonna want to stop dancing.

[ swanatello ] [ prev ] [ fin! ]

and... that's it! that's the end!

... well, the end of the main storyline, anyway! the end of the story for swannie that i wanted to tell. the au will still be around! <3 swanatello has pretty much always been built on the asks i've received about it, and i still have more tucked away in my hoard that i intend to get to at some point or another as little bonus side stories, and my askbox is always open as well...! and on that note--

thank y'all so, so much for your support on this magickal girl journey. i NEVER expected to get the amount of love or attention that i did for my silly little donniesona that was based on a pun, but i had so much fun with this comic and am so grateful to y'all <3 like i said, this entire au was really powered by the amount of asks i received about him and his story, and it was really such a fantastic experience for me all around. not including any non-canon crossover content, this comic is approximately 965 pages long! definitely wasn't my plan when i doodled him for the first time as a goof, haha.

thanks, gang. <3 i hope you enjoyed the ride, too.

[thevoidstaredback]

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Storyboard Part 2

[blu-ish]

Does anyone remember this mf

[raepliica]

(content warning: blood)

Sewed Up Heart

[ID: A Trigun comic done in grayscale with red accents. First, an anatomical heart gushes blood, forming a puddle which shifts into Vash's coat. Vash's gloved hands can be seen sewing up a tear at the hem.

Vash raises his hands, which are now bare and covered in blood. He looks sweaty and distressed, and he raises his coat to his face and cries into it. His clenched hands rip the sewed portion apart, and the red thread leads to a heart whose own stitches are tearing apart. The background gets darker and darker, and the red looks brighter and starker against it.

Then the background returns to white, and brown-skinned hands using embroidery scissors snip a red thread. Wolfwood holds up Vash's repaired coat, grinning proudly, and does a happy thumbs-up in Vash's direction. Vash lifts his head, seeming distant.

Wolfwood holds out the coat. As Vash puts out his hand to take it, the cloth is replaced so Wolfwood is dropping a sewed-up heart in Vash's hand. Vash rubs the coat against his face with a teary smile. End ID] ID CREDITS

[charlesoberonn]

[peroty]

Do you love woodpeckers? Have you grown an intense interest in birding in the past few years? Then you'll enjoy this documentary from PBS.

Paul Giamatti tells you about all the different kinds of woodpeckers in the world and how they live and thrive in various environment. I was able to put in my local PBS station and watch the entire thing. It's worth your time if you enjoy watching birds.

We have little downy woodpeckers that are so fluffy and sweet. We also have large red-bellied woodpeckers and every so often a northern flicker comes to visit.

[shirozora-draws]

So, uh.... how about that Kendrick vs. Drake Rap Beef 2024?!?!?!??!!?

In all seriousness, I had a mentally ugly April and so I want to thank the early May nuke that was Meet The Grahams blowing up my Twitter feed for getting me back on track. Sometimes you gotta pop out and hyperfixate on something really fucking different to get your brain back on track, which it did. The final draft of the next chapter is ready and waiting, and now I just need to get rid of all the goddamn rust and dust clogging up my arting gears.

I've done and posted multiple iterations of these designs through the years and they're buried in the archives but at some point I have to commit. That point is right now. I have to commit because these are going to be my visual guides for the next act of the story. Man, I hope I can pull this off. I want Din's look to be red for Aq Vetina and made up of scraps while he continues on his quest to rebuild himself. And I want Luke to have SOME color of some fucking kind and also I got tired of capes and thought the contrast to Din would be fun.

Grogu has some tweaks too but I need to stop dawdling and start thumbnailing for the chapter that is waitingwaitingwaiting for launch day so his little "design sheet" will come later. And once the chapter goes live, I'll spend the rest of the summer getting the pop-up shop up and running for pre-orders. Hopefully. Definitely. For sure.

[griefabyss69]

Push It In

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

4th (last) Installment in The Hole Story!

[ AO3 ] [ Tip / Commissions post ]

‘HOLE’ wc: 404 | rated: E | cw: Ass Eating <3, Weed Smoking

Steve cracks - Eddie's right there with him.

Confessing his thing for Eddie's tongue while they weren't high enough to excuse it could've been bad, but Eddie had smiled warmly, and his restless tongue had snagged him.

Now they’re plastered together on his bed, Steve laughing against his clavicle, plausible deniability fading with every thump of Eddie's heartbeat.

"Even when I hated you, I couldn't stop thinking about it,” Steve confesses. “Obsessed, man."

"Holy shit," Eddie breathes.

"I don't know what kind of magic God put into your tongue, but it's… mesmerizing."

Eddie's heart speeds up underneath Steve's cheek. "I'm game if you are."

The half-chub Steve's been sporting fills out. "Now?"

Steve’s stripping before Eddie finishes nodding. Months of foreplay, and in a flash he's waiting with his cock out between spread thighs.

Eddie looks reverent; glassy, flushed. Awed.

"If this is a dream, do not wake me up." He places warm hands on Steve's shoulders. "What… what kind of…?"

"Put your mouth on me and I'm happy," Steve smiles easily. "I think about your tongue in my ass a lot, though."

There: the locked diary, spread open for Eddie's eyes.

Eddie moans. "Okay. Get comfortable."

Steve moves with a shiver, knows exactly what he likes; face in the pillow, ass in the air, letting Eddie do all the work this time.

Eddie gently spreads him open. "This is going to ruin me for everything else.”

Steve's so turned on he nearly collapses; he arches his back in offering, and Eddie bends, breathing hot over him, lips kissing a path down his tailbone to his asshole.

Steve clenches his fists around fabric.

It's incredible, the tip of his tongue so much better than his fingers. "You're so hot," Eddie says before he licks flat over him. “Can't believe you like this."

Steve muffles his groan and tries to grind against his tongue. Minutes pass like hours; Steve's cock is dripping by the time Eddie asks, "More?"

"Yeah,” Steve admits, and Eddie's tongue comes back, flicking in alternating pressure long enough to drive him nuts.

When he pushes in, Steve fucking dies.

The shape of his tongue is nothing like his fingers. Steve squeezes his hole around it and it moves inside of him, licking and fucking him at the same time, and he has to bite Eddie's pillow just to survive as he comes. Eddie's moans press into his skin, his tongue still deep inside.

Steve’s ruined for everything else, too.

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

"It's hopeless! Every man who has gone in is either too large to fit down the squeeze or they completely lose their nerve and turn tail!"

"Don't despair, we'll get him out. We just need someone small, tough, and with no sense of self preservation."

A caver is stuck down a gypsum cave and has sparked a media frenzy. Tintin's editor sends him to America to get in on the story, but Tintin quickly discovers that while the attention the story garnered might have sent more help the caver's way, the disruptive crowds, moneyed interests and media circus might have only aided the cave's endeavour in holding its prisoner captive.

[luyo-mi]

my hadn sliped

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Tim was four days into a sleep deficit so he felt that to say that this predicament was his fault was a bit of a reach.

For it to be his fault he would have had to cognizant of the last 16 hours.

All he wanted to do was take a power nap in the nearest closest durring the Waynetech gala but nooo Bruce had to be taken hostage by the Joker.

So he did what he thought would work best and shoved uncle Clark into the nearest emergency bat storage and told him to suit up.

Maybe he looked a bit more confused than normal but they didn’t need a reporter they needed Batman!

That being said wasn’t uncle Clark supposed to be off-world?

Oh no.

———————

Jack honestly had no clue what was happening for the last six months so when he was told to be Batman he merely just shrugged as the frankly exhausted teen left him to his own.

With his son turning out to be part ghost to the government hunting down his said son and having to move shop halfway across the continent.

This might as well happen.

Grinning like a kid on Christmas, Jack plopped on the finishing touch.

“Oh Danno is not going to believe this!”

Raising a cloaked arm with a flourish Jack struck a pose.

“Alrighty Jack enough messing around! Time to save the party, Fenton style!

Shifting his feet, Jack took a deep breath before smoothing his face the best he could. After all, couldn’t have a smiling Batman! Before walking out the room and taking running leap through the wall to the streets of Gotham before grappling to the nearest building.

[manybackflips]