lucielanciel

[lucielanciel]

ANG MGA BADINGGG #sinful saint

Woah...

[lucielanciel]

Nya nya nya nya...nya nya nya nya nya...

Nerd POU.

It looks just like its father (old art)

Also I made a doodle of nerd Pou too because it looked so cute

@lucielanciel I need you to see this

[lucielanciel]

I borrowed a laptop and broke a mouse (I don't own one)

God knew I'd be unstoppable

[lucielanciel]

I've been doing this lately, without realising it and it's just so— "People really do love me" :" ))

They should invent a method of asking for reassurance that nobody secretly hates you that doesn't make people secretly hate you.

[lucielanciel]

I've been stuck lately with writing these twoooooo— hopefully, I'll finish this at the end of month!!ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

(basically, just a bunch of snippets of a Nny X Mmy fic I got on A03!!!)

[lucielanciel]

Sorry pre, na hutdan ko ug load

@lucielanciel unsa na man ky wa man ka'y load... Pagload na imong cellphone ba, sige na pareko 💔🥀

[lucielanciel]

Sorry it’s so long fellas, but here’s a bit of what I’ve been up to

[lucielanciel]

ART DUMP!!! I've unfortunately haven't been that active on Tumblr, I'm more on Facebook xP

[lucielanciel]

Burger...Burger Bat... 🍔

Times are tough; Have a Bat

/|\ ^._.^ /|\

[lucielanciel]

[lucielanciel]

Angel from Burger Bats

well… *pushes up glasses* i’m something of a fucking idiot myself 😏

[lucielanciel]

Blueberry Lemonade (Rusted Scalpel | Burger Bats )

A/N: So what's burger bats?

Artwork by @vampyrpunkz xP

A certain someone asked me to write them making out, didn't help that I got inspired by the art SHSHSSHSH

Angel took a long sip of his drink as he leaned his head against Johnny’s shoulder, his temple just beneath the line of his jaw. He didn’t speak right away—just breathed in the cold-filtered air and listened to the low, watery lull of the space around them.

They sat on the bench tucked in one of the quieter exhibits, the kind made for loitering and quiet conversations.

Wednesday, he thought. Middle of the week. A nothing day. The kind of day people forgot about. But he liked it. It made everything feel gentler. Like there wasn’t pressure to be anything but here.

“Nny,” Angel murmured, voice a hush against the soft drone of water pumps. A wall of glass beside them shimmered with slow-moving blues and silvers—shoals of fish drifting. The occasional ripple of a manta ray gliding overhead cast a soft flicker over Angel’s knees.

“Do you really like me?”

It wasn’t the first time he asked.

His fingers twitched against the hem of his sleeves. The question hung in the air like condensation, just waiting to drip.

Johnny didn’t answer with words.

He turned his head slowly, brushing his lips against Angel’s cheek, his temple, and then—his lips brushed softly over Angel’s lips. It was barely there at first—just the ghost of touch, careful and quiet. His hands cupped either side of Angel’s jaw, thumbs tracing faint arcs over his cheeks.

The kisses didn’t ask for anything—they gave. Just the warm press of his mouth and the slow way he lingered between each pass, like he was trying to memorize the shape of him.

It was light. A tentative press, more like punctuation than a sentence. But when Angel didn’t pull away, Johnny deepened it.

Angel let out a sound, quiet and surprised, as Johnny’s mouth grew more insistent.

Not desperate, but needy. Honest

He ended up dropping his drink on the ground, the liquid spilling on the floor. Johnny could taste the honey on Angel’s tongue, the citrus-y flavour filling his taste bud as his fingers clutched the fabric of Angel’s shirt, curled into it at his side.

He gripped—not roughly, but with purpose.

Johnny kissed like someone who didn’t always know how to say what he felt, but could show it if you gave him the room. His hands tightened on Angel’s waist as he shifted, gently guiding him until Angel’s back bumped softly against the cool glass of the tank wall.

The movement startled Angel—not enough to stop it, but enough to steal his breath. His hands came up, fingers bunching in Johnny’s turtleneck for balance, for grounding, for something. Their chests pressed together.

When Angel finally pulled away to breathe, his lips were slick and pink, his cheeks stained with a flush that crawled up to the tips of his ears.

But Johnny followed, chasing that inch of space, pressing his forehead to Angel’s.

“Don't ask that,” Johnny whispered against his skin. His breath was warm and shaky. “Don’t ask me that when I already gave you the answer.”

Angel blinked up at him, dazed, eyes glassy in the low light. His heart pounded so loud he swore it echoed in the tank behind him.

There was something about the way Johnny had said it—soft, almost pleading—that lodged in his throat like a hook. And the way his forehead pressed against Angel’s, not forceful, just close

like he didn’t know how else to stay connected. Like this was his version of vulnerability.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for Angel.

He wanted more.

He wanted proof—not whispered or implied—but carved into breath and body. And suddenly, without warning, Angel surged forward.

The kiss was nothing like the first.

It wasn’t delicate, it wasn't seeking. It took.

Angel grabbed the collar of Johnny’s shirt and yanked him back in, crashing their mouths together with a desperate, angry sound muffled by the press of their lips. There was nothing neat about it. Teeth knocked, breath hitched. It was sloppy . A collision born out of too many nights wandering, too many spirals left unanswered.

“Mmph-!” Johnny whined—guttural, surprised, but he didn’t pull away. He just gripped Angel tighter, hands fumbling for purchase at his sides, like he wasn’t sure if this was passion or panic.

Angel kissed like he was starving. Like he wanted to hurt, just a little, just enough to make sure Johnny remembered this later—when the lights came back on, when the silence returned. His fingers tangled in Johnny’s hair, and he bit at his lower lip, just enough to feel him flinch.

And behind them, the glass of the tank pressed cold against Angel’s back. A slow swirl of pale fish circled in the water beyond, lit like ghosts behind frosted light. A strange, soft kind of witness.

He pulled back, breathless, panting against Johnny’s mouth.

Johnny stared at him, with half lidded eyes. His chest heaved like he’d run a mile. Yet he still hasn't say it

•

•

•

The kisses were messy and frantic. His lips slanted hard over Johnny’s, pressing in deep, dragging slightly before pulling back and diving in again.

"You feel this too, right? Right?” Their mouths opened wider, breaths spilling into each other between rough swipes and greedy pulls.

Their mouths found rhythm, but it wasn’t pretty. It was all friction and pressure—lips gliding, dragging, catching. Angel tilted his head and kissed him again, deeper now, pressing harder until Johnny stumbled a half-step back, hand curling around Angel’s jaw to steady himself.

"Say it, Johnny, please.” Angel’s lips moved with a kind of desperate precision—each pass deliberate. He sucked at Johnny’s bottom lip, tongue flicking along the seam before pushing forward, not asking but taking.

"Angel, slow down-” Johnny’s breath hitched, his coat was wrinkled and skewed on his shoulders, one lapel turned inward, the fabric creased where Angel’s fists had pulled him in too hard.

His mouth was warm and insistent, moving fast, then slow, then fast again. Every drag of lip against lip left a trace of dampness. Johnny groaned low in his throat when Angel bit—not too hard, but enough to feel. Their lips broke apart with a slick pop, only to crash together again with more pressure, more mouth, more everything.

By the time Angel pulled back, just barely, both of them were flushed, panting. His hair was a disheveled mess, with cheeks brushed with a warm. A strand of spit still clung between their lips, snapping as Angel licked his own, slow and ragged.

Then came the voice—thin and shaky and low, barely more than a whisper.

“E-every time you go quiet,” Angel said, his fingers clinging to Johnny’s shirt, “it feels like….”

Johnny’s lips were bruised, turning into an ugly shade of purple yet he still softly pressed his lips on Angel's forehead. The faintest smear of gloss lingered on his bottom lip.

“Yes..I do like you.”

•

•

(Original Ending) (Bonus xP)

Neither of them said another word.

Because right now, mouths are for kissing. For biting. For breathing the other in until the ache quieted.

Or at least, until it was quiet enough.

[lucielanciel]

Are you asleep? (Rusted Scalpel| Burger Bats Fix )

A/N: So what's burger bats?

Artwork byy @vampyrpunkz

Angel stepped into the living room, his footsteps soft against the worn-out carpet. Johnny was curled up on the couch, facing away.

"Johnny... are you awake?"

No response.

Angel lingered for a moment before exhaling quietly. He ran a hand through his hair. Then murmured, almost too soft to be heard—

"I love you, man."

He left before he could second-guess it.

Johnny lay still, his eyes open, staring into the dark. His heart ached, and before he could stop himself, hot tears slipped down his face.

He didn’t deserve him.

[lucielanciel]

teeth studies

[lucielanciel]

get down, on the ground

[lucielanciel]

I HAVEN'T POSTED IN LIKE FOREVER!!

Anywhoooo, have Jimmy!!

[lucielanciel]

extrovert lesbian and agoraphobic lesbian out on da town!

background source: super edited stock photo of cadillac lounge and various other stock images