#all I know is that I am very very tired

[hawberries]

vultur volans | paradisaea

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

[belbeeps]

for those of u curious about the state of the bird app

[cozylittleartblog]

had a(nother) nightmare

[intotheelliwoods]

Guess who got to see a Solar Eclipse at the 4 Corners! (the bobble leos did. this trip was for them actually- they didnt even pay for gas)

[cerise-on-top]

hi<3 if you can, can you do valeria and laswell with a gothic s/o? like someone who likes darker/morbid things and things like that! love your blog by the way! it’s definitely my favorite blog to come look at after a long ass day <333

Hey there! Sorry, but I couldn't really find too much on what counts as dark and morbid in the goth scene, so I wrote more general HCs, I hope that's alright still ^^;

Valeria and Laswell with a Gothic!S/O

Valeria: She’d most definitely be intrigued, but not too much. In all honesty, she doesn’t know too much about the subculture, she’s never really met a goth who was clearly one. However, if it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to her. While she won’t really know too many bands, or any at all, she’d be more than happy to listen to a few if you want her to. Yes, she won’t always have the time, but when she isn’t too busy she could put on some songs by Joy Division or The Cure, she really doesn’t mind. She can vibe to that sort of music, even if it isn’t her favorite. You’re more than welcome to discuss the literature with her, though. She’s probably never read a single gothic literature book, but she can buy you some. Anything from poetry to a regular novel, it’s quite alright. While she won’t be the best person to go to when it comes to discussing those, she’ll support you either way. However, something she could definitely enjoy would be going clothes shopping with you. The fashion is kind of nice, she has to admit, so she’d be more than happy to buy you whatever garments you desire. Will go out of her way to find something you might like as well. I can’t see her being too much into the history of goth culture, though. It’s nice that you are a goth, if you want to tell her about it, then you can and she’ll listen to you, but she likely doesn’t have the time to research everything by herself. Tell her about its roots and she can definitely appreciate you going against what’s mainstream and how it all came to be. She’s a very defiant and rebellious woman herself, so she definitely gets it.

Laswell: She knows so many people, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has worked with goths before. And even if she hasn’t directly, she’s likely seen quite a few walking around the city. She usually grows worried for them in summer since their attire is black, which makes it quite hot. However, she’d be very intrigued by you and your subculture. It’s something very near and dear to you, so she would put in the effort to learn about your history. Will give some classic bands a listen as well. She just really wants to have something to talk about with you. Besides, she gets to learn more about you. While she may not be the biggest fan of your interest in death, considering she’s surrounded by it more often than not, she’d be more than happy to indulge anything else it has to offer. Laswell spent a good chunk of life left alone with her thoughts, so she definitely knows a thing or two about melancholy, the state of the world and introspection. Maybe not in the same way you do, but she can definitely keep up in a conversation. She’s likely also unintentionally read some of the more popular gothic novels out there and liked them, so she’d make for a good discussion partner as well. While she doesn’t particularly understand the need to make your face completely white, she doesn’t mind. In fact, she thinks it looks quite cool, even if it’s not for her. However, the fashion in and of itself looks really good to her. Again, she wouldn’t want to wear it, but something about Victorian and Edwardian fashion has a certain something to it that she can’t quite place. Like Valeria, she’ll definitely buy you things she thinks you might like. Anything from a suit or a corset to a book about poetry. Beware, though, she will read the books before you can.

[3-aem]

MY BRAINS NOT WORKING AND THE CUTE BOY I WORK WITH KEEPS CORRECTING MY GRAMMAR THIS IS SO AHAIWIAKSDHDGRRRRHRNE

[grimalkinmessor]

Hi welcome to my very tired rant

[chiropteracupola]

what if they were an ultimate frisbee team

[cosmic-lullaby]

I just thought of this so now I have to afflict it on everyone

can we just think for a minute about how Tyler probably hasn't had any physical affection in the entire series (and probably longer) besides Wednesday tending to his wounds and kissing him?

Like, his dad sure isn't being affectionate with him, he doesn't seem to have friends who would be, and let us NOT SPEAK of she-who-shall-not-be-named.

All in all, the kiss between Wednesday and Tyler probably meant all that much more to him because it was one of the only moments of physical affection that wasn't abuse / creepy.

[donnabenevientosimpingzone]

Hey! Now that you’re back I wanted to ask about Resident Lover? I remember you were on the team- but then the game came out and your name wasn’t on the dev list... what happened?

I can’t escape this question can I- and for those of you who messaged me, I did delete them in hopes of avoiding this- but I don’t want rumours to spread so lemme be transparent.

Also pls read this for how I’m handling coming back to this blog: https://www.tumblr.com/donnabenevientosimpingzone/741337986608873472/complex-feelings-and-absolute-pandemonium-about-my

No, I wasn’t kicked off the team, nor was I invited back when I left- and they made the right choice doing that. I was not mentally stable. I didn’t take the project seriously, I had jealousy issues, and didn’t take criticism well- I self destructed badly- blew up and burned that bridge to ashes, not to mention what sorta hurt I caused the team.

It did hurt a lot when I saw the game release. I was so upset, and spent so many weeks thinking about “what if I didn’t fuck up”. But there are no “what ifs” in history, we are meant to go through what we do in order to become the best versions of ourselves. The whole ordeal was part of the last push I needed to finally seek professional help. And the fact it still hurts whenever I see it around means I still care and carry guilt about everything that happened.

I’m practicing exposure therapy to try and heal that gaping wound. RE8 has turned my life completely on its head and I don’t want to abandon it- the best outcome will be the day I can download and play the game and find it within myself to genuinely love it with no more wounds to lick- but for now I’m content with seeing it float around every once in a while on my dash.

Out of respect- I hope none of you will pester the devs about this either. They did something amazing, and I’m so proud of what they’ve accomplished. Out of all of them I really miss MJ. They were the best, most hilarious friend- I always thought they were super attractive- and the whole reason the game was possible. Show them some love- idk message them “you’re cool!” for me or something. Anon ask if you have to. Don’t tell them I’m the one who sent you- I think it’ll be funny to just have a whole buncha people messaging them outta nowhere bahaha

And with that I hope this clears it up and stops people from messaging anymore about it. It’s still a sensitive wound I’m working to heal and I’d like to do it at my own pace<3 I don’t regret the experience, I’m in such a better place now because of it. I would love to make peace with my past self and accept the pain as a part of growing.

Until then enjoy me going back to my usual shenanigans before all the shit hit the fan. I’m very excited to draw more Spider Donna and Beneviento Sisters, I hope y’all enjoy it too<3

Update edit: https://www.tumblr.com/donnabenevientosimpingzone/737803172475781120/stupid-lil-update-i-wanna-do-as-per-my-pinned

Update! https://www.tumblr.com/donnabenevientosimpingzone/737980137572892672/people-who-knowknew-me-personally-probably-arent

Update that shows old sprite: https://www.tumblr.com/donnabenevientosimpingzone/738487941680316416/want-me-as-a-professor-okay-damn-ignore-the

Update where I rant about Angie and Daniela with a cat: https://www.tumblr.com/donnabenevientosimpingzone/740499151828156416/can-we-see-the-png-of-the-angie-sprite-holding-a

Update about the dangie ask on the RL blog: https://www.tumblr.com/donnabenevientosimpingzone/742312364040454144/hey-just-a-heads-up-that-the-rl-team-recently

[funkinmadnesss]

Throws these here finally KDMDHSSK

I was. Hoping to have posted more original art of literally anyone else but Mysterio before these saw the light of day but uuuhuuhghhg that didn't happen got bless <3

But huzzah! Earth-4918's Sinister six (Vaguely) TSSM styled (and by Vaguely I mean I put way too much detail in them, there just TSSM shaped)! (+Tinkerer, he's not a member but I'm posting him so it's even. The last member is Sandman but he belongs to my best friend and we haven't got around to making him a TSSM ref like these yet </3)

All references/orginal images I used came from here (x) (x) !

Little facts below cut for those itchrested :]

General info: They were all Human at some point and bonded over the fact they became this way by Norman's hand. Every inhuman feature about them is purely genetic now (Excluding Myst+Tink+Sandman). The whole group bonded over their shared hatred for Osborn in general though.

Adrian: He's an Egyptian Vulture. Tall as HELL, he's the second tallest. He's technically the leader and carries the burden of having a team made up of traumatized mutants while also being a traumatized mutant-

Lizard: Trans woman, Her name is Camila :] She has exactly 5 different lizard species in her DNA (5 points for anyone who can guess them all just from her design)

Rhino: It no longer identifies with anything from its life before getting mutated in an attempt to have some control over its life. Rhino strictly uses It/Its. Aside from Rhino DNA, It also has wooly mammoth DNA.

Lizard and Rhino fuckin HATE eachother. It stepped on her tail ONCE and she never forgave it. Mysterio often has to split the two up with his Alien form.

Electro: Graffiti artist. Has somewhat control over his bio electricity, Gloves and chestplate (which is what that tube attached to the back of his head is connected to.) help maintain that control.

Tinkerer (bc he's there): (My silly, my skrungly, my funny lil old man blorbo hehheghem-) Trans man :] Has a cat he rescued off the streets (bc i kept seeing people give him a cat and its like. Its a good headcanon) He and Beck met during his stuntman days (He was technical support on a movie Beck worked on), He isn't very fond of alot of the sinister six (Him and sandman are chill tho) but he tolerates them for Beck.

Okie thats all mwah/p

[paper-starz]

Are you kidding me?

If you haven’t already please block and report @mrs-inkstargirl for stealing/ tracing art.

This is the original art made by @tyginartist (go check em out! They are lovely!)

THIS was the stolen/ traced copy of it. It’s practically an exact copy of it.

They have also traced art before and I am pretty sure they WILL do it again.

(Also, they have deleted the post in question too)

[llitchilitchi]

I get hating certain political systems and trying to abolish totalitarian regimes but at the same time many of them are so interwoven with our history and society they have become tropes and when I consume media with a setting where the monarchy is absolute and revered then I am playing my part and sucking that princeling off

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

heya, i have to wake up in three hours but! here's another lil human au snippet! ft. lightly implied Laughingstock! disclaimer i am so so tired so don't come at me for typos or strangely worded sentences or missing info <3

~

Before heading home, Eddie swings by a charming little store he’s been to once or twice before. He usually goes to the chain store by his house, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle and the endless aisles. This little store is quiet, nice, and strangely has everything anyone could need. 

The lot is mostly empty at this hour, so Eddie claims a spot right at the front. As with the other times, the windows are littered with displays and stickers - half off on this, sale on that. Eddie enters Howdy’s Place with the chime of the door’s shopkeeper’s bell. He’ll get what he needs and get out, quick and easy and peacefu-

Boisterous laughter slams into Eddie like a hammer, so sudden that he jumps in place. An employee stocking cans nearby glances weirdly at him. Eddie clears his throat and hurries into the nearest aisle as the laughter tapers off. The silence barely lasts a second before loud chatter starts up. It’s too fast and muffled for Eddie to understand, but he can pick out two distinct voices - one deep, one less so but still decidedly masculine. 

Eddie tries to tune it out as he gathers what he needs. Toothpaste, some paper towels, shampoo. For the hell of it, he nabs a box of classic bran muffins from the spacious food section. He lingers for a moment, enjoying how far-away the conversation seems at the other corner of the store. Unfortunately, theft is illegal, so Eddie is forced to move towards the noise.

A strange thing about the store - it’s a combination general store, antique shop, and diner, complete with a miniature gift shop separating the two. One long checkout counter stretches from the open store area, behind the gift shop, and into the diner, where the conversation is coming from. An interesting setup, but an understandable one. It allows anyone behind the counter to move fluidly between customers and sections.

As Eddie approaches, the conversation becomes slightly clearer. 

“-said, no wonder you didn’t get her number!” the deeper voice barks, and the two dissolve into that almost-too-loud laughter again. 

As it tapers off, the other voice says, “Sounds like a real charmer! But really, you oughta be careful, Barn. One of these days someone’s gonna throw a right hook at ya.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A transatlantic accent? He hasn’t heard that anywhere outside of real old movies and a queen he once knew. It sounds natural too, like the man was born to sound like he belongs on a 1920s radio show. It nudges something in the back of Eddie’s mind. He’s started to get really sick of that nudge.

“Oh, this guy did.”

“No kidding? I don’t see a shiner.”

“Well, yeah. I went left.”

Both of them laugh again, and Eddie feels a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t funny enough to garner an actual laugh in his opinion, but it wasn’t unfunny. 

Eddie steps up to the counter and quietly puts his acquired items on it, not wanting to interrupt. He chances a glance to the side - walking space in front of the counter’s length lets him see right down into the diner.

A large man with dyed-blue hair and an interesting fashion sense is at the bar, talking to an employee leaning against the other side. The employee doesn’t really catch Eddie’s gaze, but the other man… Eddie swears he’s seen him before. He studies him from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be rude but unable to mind his business. 

“Our bouncer didn’t even get a chance at the action - the idiot knocked himself out tryin’ a second swing!” The customer says. His deep voice, wavering with humor, only adds to the sense of familiarity. Metal glints in his right ear. Eddie knows this man from somewhere.

The employee shakes his head, tutting. His busy hands polish a vintage pitcher. “I swear, you get all the crazies.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” The customer takes a sip from his tall milkshake and scoffs. “Though if it wasn’t all well-ending, amusing bull, I doubt I’d be so tolerant.”

Minutes drag by as the two keep talking. Eddie goes from patiently waiting to awkwardly trying to get the employees attention. If only there was someone else behind the counter, but the only other staff member is elsewhere, likely still stocking shelves. 

The two men are too absorbed in their little world, even though both are facing Eddie’s way. The customer has both elbows on the counter, one of them bent to prop up his chin. The employee has his hip leaned against the edge as they chat. They’re obviously very familiar with each other, and clearly deeply enjoy each other's company. 

Still - and Eddie is sorry to say, but it’s bad customer service. He’s not in a rush, but he’d still like to be on his way home. He could be fishing out the complex keys right now. He checks his phone - he’s been here for nearly fifteen minutes. Picking out the items took less than five. 

Eddie sighs, staring at the various cigarette packs displayed behind the counter. He’s never seen the appeal in smoking, but as the laughter starts up again, he almost wishes he did. He’s going to treat himself to a very long shower once he gets home. 

The store’s other employee walks behind the counter, carrying a box. Eddie lights up. Finally - she pointedly clears her throat and heads into the back. 

The constant conversation stalls for the barest moment, and he looks over. The customer grins at him for a second - lord he’s handsome - before turning that grin towards his friend.

“You’re losin’ your touch, Howds,” he teases, bringing his shake straw to his lips.

“I resent that statement. You’re just distracting.”

“Lil’ me? Distracting? C’mon, you can just tell me I’m pretty to my face. I’ll take it like a champ, I swear!”

“Ha, good try.” The employee sets the pitcher down and starts to mosey in Eddie’s direction. “Your ego is big enough for the both of us as is. One more compliment and your head’ll pop like a balloon.”

“Well, given that most balloons don’t really pop, they just kinda deflate slowly-”

“Sorry for the wait!” the employee says loudly in a glaringly obvious customer service tone. He stops in front of Eddie with a cardboard smile. At the other end of the counter, the familiar man snickers and hides his grin behind his drink. “I trust you found everything you did - and didn’t! - need.”

Eddie just stares up at him for a moment. At six-one, Eddie hasn’t felt small in a very long time. He usually stands at least a full inch above other people. This employee - Howdy, his name tag states - has several more on him.

“Uh, y-yes, I uh, I did,” Eddie stammers, glancing at his items. 

“Wonderful! And again, my sincerest apologies for the delay. My friend makes a game out of keeping me from my job.” Howdy shoots his ‘friend’ a glare with enough heat in it to make an ice cube sweat. 

“No worries.”

Howdy scans the items at an almost frightening speed. Beep, into a paper bag. Beep, in. Beep, beep - “Oh, no.”

“What?” Eddie says, dread plucking at his ribs as Howdy holds the bran muffins and shakes his head. “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

“Indeed there is! You’re making a mistake with these. They’re absolutely horrible, I tell ya - and bad for you, too!” Howdy tuts and puts the box to the side. “No, no, you don’t want those.”

“I… don’t?”

“Not if you knew better! Lucky for you, I’m here to set you straight. What you need is-” he snaps his fingers, “Barnaby, be a pal and-”

“Already on it,” ‘Barnaby’ says, appearing next to Eddie.

If Eddie weren’t already paralyzed, he’d jump right out of his skin from how Barnaby towers over him. He has to be a scant inch or so shorter than Howdy, but he still makes Eddie feel tiny. Unfortunately, Barnaby is even more handsome up close. 

“Here ya go.” Barnaby hands a plastic container to Howdy and taps it, smiling lazily down at Eddie. “I’d take his advice on this one. Those bran-named muffins may sound fancy, but they’re pretty crumby! You want muffins of quality. Real breadwinners!

Eddie can’t help a soft laugh. “Breadwinners, heh, that’s a good one.”

“Are you selling these or am I?” Howdy says, raising a bushy eyebrow. 

“Hey, I’m just doin’ what you asked! I’m bein’ a pal.”

“And I - I’m sorry," Eddie interjects, "but you’re awfully familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Eh, I’ve been around, but uh… you ever been to [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE]?”

Howdy clears his throat. “I’m trying to make a sale here, Barn. You can flirt on your own dime when you’re not costing me mine.”

“Didja know your nose gets redder when you’re jealous?”

Howdy rolls his eyes and shoves Barnaby in the diner’s direction. Barnaby goes with a hearty snicker. Despite the joke, Eddie thinks it has some merit as Howdy scans the final item and rings him up, considerably frostier than before.

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that he didn’t actually agree to the different muffins. Too late now. “Say, what kind of muffins are those?”

“Poppyseed-lemon.”

Eddie relaxes - that is a lot better than boring bran. “Y’know, my mother loved poppyseed-lemon muffins.”

“Did she now,” Howdy drawls.

“Like you wouldn’t believe! If baking was so much as mentioned, she’d jump right on houndin’ us to whip some up for her, or send us to go buy some. We’d never even get a taste! They’d be gone the moment they hit the air, I tell ya.” Eddie chuckles. “Took me a while to understand what all the fuss is about, but man was she right. They are good!”

“Uh-huh. Well, we have a fresh batch delivered every morning. They’re not the same type every time, mind you, but I can promise that they’re all of the highest quality.”

“Breadwinners, right?” Eddie jokes. Howdy doesn’t blink, but Barnaby snorts. He’ll take it. “I might have to come by more often, if that’s the case! Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Mhm, have a good day.” Howdy hands him the bag and strides away without a glance. The dismissal is clear as day. “Say, Barn, did you hear about the racket one of those cult crackpots stirred up at our dear friend’s tearoom?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the tail-end of the sentence as he hurries away, but he frowns. Cult? What cult? There’s a cult? He certainly didn’t hear of one before moving here, and none of his background checks had turned up anything of the sort. He hopes it was just a figure of speech. 

The door chimes again as Eddie leaves. It isn’t until he’s in his car that the embarrassment of that whole exchange catches up with him. If he had a nickel for every time he’d made a fool of himself in front of a gorgeous, strangely familiar man, he’d have three nickels. At the rate he’s going, he’ll either be rich, or he’ll have to move. 

Eddie subtly tries to peek around the store’s window displays from the safety of his car. He catches a scant glimpse of blue hair - come to think of it, it’s a similar shade to Wally’s. But where Wally’s had, to Eddie’s memory, been uniformly dyed right down to his eyebrows, Barnaby’s rich brown roots were obvious. His beard and eyebrows weren’t dyed, either. 

As Eddie relaxes back into his seat, he re-reads at the store’s name. The color drains from his face and he barely restrains himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel.

Oh, of course. Of course he made a fool of himself in front of the owner. Eddie can never come back here again. And it was such a nice store…

[chappellrroan]

society if daughters didn't have to be the peace mediator in the family