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starbles… do you still have that drawing of how to draw behind the codes springstraps robotic arm? it's so good but i looked at your entire blog and still haven't found it….
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Here it is!
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infamous-if · 2 days
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telling g you forgive them and having them tell you they were thinking of you a lot and smiling all softly at you and then telling them you two should stay away from each other 🫠 pain and suffering ahoy thanks girlie
ouch 😭 poor g that's emotional whiplash
I have so much to say about that scene and how devastating it is for g but lmao
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fuerrziah · 2 days
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Feed us more mer Elliot
good timing to answer this request since i have drawn this today
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sonicexelle-junkary · 11 hours
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Oooooooo i hate hungry hero au ooooo!!!!!!!! I'd totally hate to see new art!!!!! Boo!!!!!!
(Is my trick working)
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I’d say so.
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Hi~~
I kinda here for the 6k
I am a huge fan of you btw.. I loved Ur eached and every batfamily plus Clark Kent stories
So can I get a sweet arranged marriage turn into love with Bruce or clerk ( can't pick between them)
I leave most decision upto you as I trust you just make it fluffy
And congratulations on your 6k. You deserve it
Thanks and bye
.⋆。What is a Marriage。⋆.
Bruce Wayne x plus size reader
It is your wedding day, a joyous occasion for all, except you and your new husband
Warnings: regency!au, arranged marriage, misogyny, mention of drug rings, fluff WC: 909
6k Bingo Celebration
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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For as long as you could remember, you were taught that you would marry a lord and a rich one at that. While your brothers would marry to carry on your family’s name, you would be responsible for another family, another home and any children that your husband saw fit to give you. You would belong to a man that your father believed would be the most capable of giving the entire family a chance to climb the social ladder. 
Part of you was excited for your debut upon the marriage mart. You dreamed of the gorgeous balls and beautiful gowns you would wear to catch the eye of a gentleman who would spoil you rotten with love and affection. Your mother’s sisters constantly told you stories of magical evenings with their future husbands as they began to court. 
Yet only a few before your debut, those dreams were stomped out by your father’s announcement that you would be wed to a man you had never met in a week’s time. Shamefully, your escape attempts though childish, were unsuccessful and only served to have your last remaining privilege of choosing your own wedding dream taken away.
And so, here you were, sitting at someone else’s table, eating food picked out by a stranger as you sat next to your new husband whom you’ve already forgotten the name of. This was definitely not how you pictured your Wedding Breakfast, alone save for your husband and his butler, your father hadn’t even the decency to let your mother attend.
You sighed and picked up the newspaper your husband had abandoned a few minutes ago. Your husband’s blue eyes flicked over to you but you ignored him. The smudged ink of the headline drew your attention; ‘Masked Vigilante Exposes Drug Ring’. It made you scoff.
“Is there something the matter?” His deep voice cut through the silence of the dining room, aggravatingly sending a shiver down your spine. You refused to look at him.
“This vigilante, it seems he’s doing a better job at protecting Gotham than the police. A damn shame they’re incapable of doing their jobs properly.” You flicked to the next page, pretending to read as you gauged his reaction. Would your husband punish you for swearing and belittling other men as your father would have done? You were met only with the soft clink of silverware and the footsteps of his butler.
“More coffee Master Bruce?” 
“Yes, thank you Alfred.” Bruce (what a modern name) cleared his throat and you finally made eye contact with him. “Are you a fan of this vigilante?” His voice tilted up like your brothers’ did when they teased you. 
You twisted the heavy ring on your finger, your stomach tight as you waited for the inevitable cruel punchline of his joke. “He’s doing something to protect people. I think it’s noble.” His lips quirked up and you couldn’t help but remember the brief peck you had shared an hour ago, your first kiss.
“Do you?” A flash of anger burned in your stomach as heat crawled up your cheeks. 
“Don’t patronise me.” Suddenly, his expression dropped. You watched him stutter over his words as he scrambled to explain what he meant. Alfred chuckled under his breath while he took your full plate of eggs and instead replaced it with some fresh fruit pastries. 
“I didn’t- I wasn’t,” his broad shoulders dropped, “I’m sorry.” He almost looked like a sad puppy like this, his head lowered, eyes wide with a genuine remorse, his fluffy brown hair hanging down along his strong cheekbones. You almost felt bad about your outburst, almost. 
“What is it that you want from this marriage? Children? A wife to obey your every whim? Who turns a blind eye to your indiscretions?” You hissed but he didn’t flinch, only taking a deep breath before he stood and rounded the table. Instead of pulling out the empty chair next to you, he knelt beside you, his hands taking yours.
“I want a companion, that is all. I know you had no choice in this marriage, and for that I apologise, it is not how I wanted this to go. But I can give you independence and freedom just by giving you my name and my wallet. I only ask that you humour me with trips to the city together, the opera, anywhere, as long as society sees us together.” He twisted your ring back so the bright purple amethyst sat right against your knuckle once more.
“I can do whatever I want?” 
He reached up and gently cupped your cheek. “I am your servant. Ask me for anything, and it is yours.” Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you nuzzled into his foreign yet comforting touch.
“And what if I ask for your heart?” 
“Then it is yours.” He said with a smirk and you couldn’t help but believe him. And as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand and then to your cheek, you wondered if this was what your mother’s sisters meant when they said that you would just know if he was the one.
Perhaps you could be more than a commodity to be sold. Maybe Bruce could be more than the man who bought you. You glanced at the headline again as another feeling stirred in your gut. Perhaps, there was more to life than what you had been told.
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mattastr0phic · 22 hours
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Draw them eating each other
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Appetite only for the other
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tealottie · 2 days
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What are your headcanons about Della?
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I have so many, but tbh my favorite headcanons have to do with her having PTSD - so i can't promise this will be a fun post
MASTERLIST OF DELLA HEADCANONS BELOW:
Appearance:
Scars from the Moon
One across her beak on left side
Scars on her arms and legs
Other markings
Stretch marks especially on her tummy and butt
A few stretch marks on her chest and thighs
Freckles on her beak (because she had triplets and ducks IRL sometimes get freckles after pregnancy)
Other
Chubby pear shape
DD cup size
Squishy belly
Big eyes
Fluffy unkempt feathers (she's bad at preening)
Thin hair (also bad at taking care of it)
Short beak
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Queer Headcanons:
Homoromantic
Bisexual
Prefers to just call herself a lesbian
Ciswoman (doesn't mind they/them pronouns and probably finds it entertaining if she's referred to as he/him)
Supports all of her queer babies
She also does not actively seek out romance, but she isn't offput by the idea entirely
Mental Health and Neurodiverse Headcanons:
PTSD
Hates being alone at any given moment and had to ask Donald if she could room with him in the houseboat for a few months
Genuinely cannot look at her reflection and will be needing exposure therapy
Does not like the feeling of movement underwater because it reminds her of the moon's gravity
Terrified that she'll never be fully capable of being a mom because of the 10 years she missed
Cringes at any moon or space themed items now - sometimes triggers her on a bad day or if she looks at them for too long
Her hair being too long is a trigger for her, so she always keeps it shoulder length or above
She ALWAYS feels cold even if her body temperature is normal and sometimes it drives her crazy
Lots of nightmares about what-ifs - what if it was my kids instead of me, what if it was my brother instead of me, what if i didnt have oxychew, what if i never met the Moonlanders, etc etc etc
The taste of black licorice will genuinely send her spiraling, and because it lingers - it wrecks her for days (she hates similar flavors such as rootbeer)
Finds a lot of joy in warm places so she now loves to be out in the sun
Had a period of time where she wasn't really talking with Penumbra because of the severity of her triggers/ptsd
Both finds peace in dead silence, but it also brings her back to the moon as well - she has a very complex relationship with isolation
Prefers silver over gold (even though she doesn't wear jewelry, she likes silver on others and silver on things such as zippers and buttons)
Spent quite a few years terrified of flying after the horror of her own trauma set in, but it threw her into a big depression since piloting is her passion
Hates taking care of her stump because she doesn't like taking her prosthetic leg off - she sees it as her own, so she hates taking it off even though she knows she needs to when sleeping or showering
She has a hard time looking at her stump and scars because on one hand; sick as hell battle wounds, but on the other; damn was that the worst time in my entire life
Depression and Anxiety
Even before crashlanding on the moon, she dealt with depression and social anxiety
She has a bit of a hard time keeping her room tidy and taking care of herself, but she's phenomenal at putting other people first
Feels as though she's not attractive enough
Wants to be a ray of sunshine in other peoples' lives
She's very scared that she won't be enough for people and therefore she must put 110% into everything she does for others
ADHD and Autism
Her sensory issues tend to directly conflict with her PTSD issues - like she hates silence because of the moon, but sometimes she gets overstimulated by noise and needs the silence or alone time
She does not sleep until her body physically passes out because the change in activity is hard for her to deal with
Goes insane if she feels understimulated because her brain begins to shut down and she dissociates
Many, many stims (sometimes doubles as grounding with PTSD): bouncing her leg, various hand motions, feeling the fabric of her clothes, physical affection with her loved ones, playing with the tightness of her prosthetic (loosening and then tightening it over and over), shaking her head to feel her hair around her shoulders (and solidifying that what she's feeling is earth gravity)
Really hard time understanding social cues that makes her come across as rather ditzy
Special interest in aircraft technology and was a top student at her flight school
Love/Hate relationship with reading because if she enjoys what she's reading she gets invested, but if she's understimulated, the words jumble together in her mind
Not good at math for a similar reason
Fish are a huge sensory nightmare for her; the scales, the smell, the taste, etc
Is generally pretty sensory-seeking, but has a few Hard Nos on textures (such as slimy scales)
Other:
I headcanon Della having compulsive sexual behavior disorder, and her libido especially spiked after being on the moon for 10 years, and it makes her feel really gross at times
Due to said hypersexuality, she gets intrusive thoughts that piss her off
Because of the moon not really having a clear indicator of night and day, Della lost her circadian rhythm and struggles with a Hell combination of non-24 and ADHD insomnia
The lack of general sleep makes it hard for her to lose weight and so she's insecure about that
Physical Disabilities:
Because she was on the moon for so long, the zero gravity and lack of proper breathable oxygen took a huge toll on her, physically
She developed really bad asthma and will likely be recovering from it for the rest of her life
Her lungs can only intake so much oxygen at a time, so she also struggles with shortness of breath
Upon returning to earth, her body was really broken down from the cold atmosphere - causing her to not be able to regulate her body temperature properly
Her bones were weakened upon arrival, so she has to spend years recovering physically from it
Her stump is irritated a lot because she doesn't like taking care of it properly
She owns crutches for when she needs to take breaks from her prosthetic just because of the discomfort when wearing it
She is not afraid to hit Donald with a crutch BTW
IF THERE ARE ANY OTHER SPECIFIC HEADCANONS THAT YOU ARE CURIOUS ABOUT, SHOOT ME AN ASK! <3
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coff33andb00ks · 2 days
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ohhh viv this is so unbelievably late but maybe 📸 + franco? <3
And if they find out, will it all go wrong?
secret relationship 🥰 lingering looks on the paddock, stolen kisses whenever possible, constant texts about how beautiful you are, when you're alone he can't keep his hands off you, and fans absolutely going insane trying to figure out who you are when he posts your hand on his insta
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bunmurdock · 2 days
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Hi I have mm thoughts like imagine having a kid with Matt and your worried how it will change your body but infact it just makes him love you more like your feeding your guys kid ? He wants to be there loves feeling you up even more need to pump for later ? He ain’t complaining
Also if it isn’t already taken I would love to be 🦋anon 😊
NEW EMOJI FRIEND! i believe someone has claimed 🦋, would you like to claim a different emoji (or multiple)? nicknames are ok as well!
maybe i'm ovulating, but you got me deep into dad!matt feels:
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oh my god okay so imagine matt murdock as a husband and dad.
you're worried about how your body's changing, but to him? it just makes him fall in love with you more. you’re carrying his kid, feeding them—he’s in awe of it. he’ll rest his hand on your stomach, tracing his fingers over every little curve, whispering how incredible you are, how much stronger, more beautiful you've become.
and when you’re pumping? he’s right there. nothing but support, hands still gently resting on you, maybe teasing with that smirk of his. he’d joke about being jealous of the bottle but would also be dead serious about helping however he can. "don’t worry, sweetheart, i’ll take care of this later," in that playful yet sincere tone.
then there’s matt with the baby, lying on his chest, tiny hands tugging at his glasses while he chuckles, that crooked smile breaking through as his eyes soften. "guess they’re taking after me already, grabbing things they can’t see," he murmurs, voice thick with affection. he’s smiling the whole time, completely wrapped up in the little miracle you both created, his vulnerability showing in the way he holds them just a bit tighter, like he can hardly believe this is real.
he’s still matt murdock, though—always thinking ahead, always ready to protect, but softer now. he’s got one ear on the baby, the other on the world outside, but right there, in that moment? it’s all about you and them. just the three of you, and him never wanting to be anywhere else.
forget the baby monitor—matt is the baby monitor. he hears everything. every tiny breath, every little coo. you'll wake up in the middle of the night, maybe panicked that something's wrong, and he’ll already be halfway across the room, whispering, “they’re just stirring, sweetheart. go back to sleep.”
no need for gadgets when you’ve got matt murdock with those insane dad reflexes. you’ll be sitting on the couch, and suddenly, the baby tips over while trying to crawl, and before you can even react, matt’s already caught them mid-air, all casual like it’s no big deal. "gotcha, kiddo," he’ll say with that teasing grin, acting like he didn't have superhuman reflexes in that moment.
"how do you know they're about to cry?" you’ll ask one day with an eyebrow raised, and he’ll lean in close, smirking, "i can hear their heart race before the tears even come." or when you’re about to check if the baby’s too warm, he’ll casually slide in with, "not a fever, just working up to a diaper change."
and the baby? loves grabbing onto him. they’ll tug at his hair or smack at his chest, and he just lets them, totally patient, playful, letting them explore him like he's their favorite jungle gym. "strong hands," he’ll tease with a grin, "just like their mom." and you’ll gasp and swat at him.
and then there’s the moments where you’re not even aware, but matt? he’s got you both clocked—whether it’s catching the baby from rolling off the bed or knowing exactly when you need an extra hand without you having to say a word. "you know," he’ll say softly, wrapping an arm around you. "i hear you too, sweetheart. every breath, every heartbeat. i’ve got you—let me take care of both of you."
he’s so in tune with everything, it’s almost like magic. but it’s just matt—hyper-aware, always ahead of the game, being both the city's greatest protector and this ridiculously loving, protective dad who somehow knows what the baby needs before they even do. and you? he knows you just as well, maybe even better, appreciating every bit of who you are, body and soul.
masterlist | share your mm thoughts
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spirit-doll · 3 days
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Asides Dark Cacao, are there any more Cookies that may have escaped/broken out from your phone or it's just only Dark Cacao himself?
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artfight · 1 day
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I'm thinking of joining the next art fight, but I have to know if joining the Discord is a requirement, as I've never been on Discord due to personal preference.
Nope, you do not have to join the Discord server in order to participate. You can if you want to, but otherwise it's not a requirement!
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etherealspacejelly · 20 hours
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the inshaallah is spreading >:) everyone who has ever interacted with me in their lives will be saying it forever now >:)
incredible.
its a great word
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infamous-if · 2 days
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august's perks as the favorite only got them 3-4 chapters of freedom from the drama smh 😭
😭😭😭
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fuerrziah · 2 days
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everytime i see you draw elliott boobs i think of the cover them up slut meme ty for drawing elliott so delicious my life is yours
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HAHHAH oh ny god
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so true
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sonicexelle-junkary · 12 hours
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(Quiet on Set ask)
C'mon, Sonic, we don't bite! Think of us as some friends! (That know more than you about yourself)
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Does he even have any friends anymore?
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aloysiavirgata · 3 days
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Dryad universe prompt. William does something telekinetic at school. Maybe on purpose, maybe not.
William launches himself into the car like he’s escaping the paparazzi. “Go go go,” he hisses, raspy, to his mother.
Scully, bewildered, looks back at him. “William, there’s a line! This isn’t an action movie, what’s going on?”
He makes a noise like a dying walrus.
Heather up ahead in a Juicy tracksuit and day-glo safety vest, directing traffic like a fucking Busytown cop with rhinestones across her annoyingly fantastic ass.
She spots Scully and waves like a beauty queen.
Scully smiles back, waggling a few fingers.
“MOOOOMMMMM GOOOOO,” her son wails.
She whips around. “William Samuel Scully, what on earth is wrong with you?”
He slouches, scowls. “I messed up.”
Having been with his father for nearly two decades, she knows “I messed up” can mean anything from “I might have eaten a smidgen of evidence” to “I sort of released a serial murderer of children.”
Something throbs in her temporal lobe. “Tell me.”
“There was…there was this bird,” William says, hiccuppy. Curled against the door.
She knows. She knows before he says it that the bird hit a classroom window during recess and that its delicate flower-stem neck snapped and it fell and fell and fell.
“Oh, honey…” she murmurs, closing her eyes for a beat.
Her boy - her lovely, strange, terrifying, angel of a boy - makes another hiccuppy sound. “Katie handed it to me and she was crying and I didn’t know what to do, Mom, his eyes were so…and and his beak was a little bloody and Katie was crying and even Aiden looked really sad and he’s NEVER sad and I just…”
He sobs a little.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes. “Oh, Will.”
“I pulled the… anyway. I made him alive and his eyes were so bright but everyone was talking and they told the teachers and…”
Her sweet, sweet boy. He never asked for this.
William is gasping, trying to stay in control. “Am I in trouble?”
Scully laughs a little, merging left as Heather waves. “Honey, no. Let me call Daddy, let’s go to The Melting Pot. Let’s eat cheese and chocolate until we’re sick.”
He sniffles, looks up. “You said to nev-“
“Cheese,” she says firmly, blinker on. “Chocolate.”
William smiles from the corner. His beautiful eyes, red-rimmed because he is too good.
“Okay,” he breathes, with a watery smile. “Okay.”
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