#fuckin bonkers

[deadwardianpoltergeist]

jesus christ why does pedro pascal give din djarin’s voice so much EMOTION

[skylordhorus]

hhhhgggggh dad’s operation is tomorrow

[emotionalsupportdman]

love that my parents live so close. means that i get to crash on their couch instead of driving an hour back to my apartment after a friend of a friend’s new year’s house party down the road from my parents’ house

[gaytor-golf]

A sleepy afternoon on the Sunny :)

I'm churning out art so fucking fast rn jeez anyway Mother Robin and the two teenagers that she accidentally adopted peep the panda ref

[beesinmymoth]

K,, Kirbee,,

@starflungwaddledee I was instructed to tag you when I drew swallow tail Galacta <3

[lazylittledragon]

hi i'm unw el l

[amurder-ofcrows]

i’m stealth in college so no one besides the accessibility office knows i’m a trans man, like the beard and buzzcut and voice and the other ways my body has been changed by 5 years on T and top surgery make people just think that i’m a “cis” man, and i’m friends with these two girls in my quantitative reasoning class and i complimented one of their outfits and made a joke about how i would probably wear it if i didn’t wanna deal with people’s bullshit and she goes “oh you know it’s okay for guys to explore their gender? you don’t have to fit into a mold society put you in based on being born male” and i’m like thanks for the sentiment and i do need to remember this as a trans man who is still exploring his fashion sense, but trust me when i say I KNOW so like ill just be over here internally screaming (but hey at least i know she’s cool about it if i did come out)

[weirdfishy]

gotta urgent need for some not-quite-yet punkflower where hobie is chillin in some rubble post-(successful) battle all knackered out n miles is visiting (idk bc he just told his parents abt spiderman n it went well so he's bursting at the seems with love at being accepted n all yea? he's gotta tell someone, and why not him? why not hobie? it's no one else but hobie he's gotta tell, if he's being honest with himself [denile is not a river in his egypt, ok pav?] so yeah, he finds himself on 138) n catches the tail end of the battle, tracks down where hobie decided to make a couch outta concrete and lands in front of him, buzzing with cheezy lovey dovey feelins of elation, top o' the fucken world, and asks on abt hobie, rambling until hobie just lifts a hand, a silent ask for help up, (always asking for connection always makin sure they're actually there) n miles, have i mentioned he's happy? he's straight up a sap, so he takes that hand.

he takes that hand gently, bending at the waist a bit, dramatically sweeping back his other arm, bowing, for hell's sake, n plants a kiss on the back of hobie's hand, nice n proper, with a cheeky wink to boot (he'd finally fixed the eye mechanisms last week, thanks to penny), before pulling up new london's own spiderman chest to chest with a bright laugh that puts a different kind of stars in hobie's eyes, half dancing half belting out a song in spanish he doesn't quite understand but knows all the words to (it's some continental dialect, nothing his mami speaks, but would filter out the headphones of that kid in his building he walked w in middle school everyday)

before the sirens start getting closer n hobie can feel the warmth of miles-- the warmth of his smile, his hair that's still sparking from transdimensional travel, his arms, chest, laughter, everything, n all at once it pulls every affectionate n pining bit of hobie to the surface, if he weren't wearing his mask his blush would be so impossibly visible it's straight mad how much hobie loves n adores miles, how much seeing miles be happy lights hobie's whole fucking world

and oh, hobie's never seen a god he didn't punch, never believed in any one he couldn't, but right now, with his fingers entwined with miles', aches leaving his bones like he's never felt his left shoulder twinge the second it drops below 21 just because miles just yelled fuck off to the approaching pigs, he could fall to his knees n swear pious fealty to milesmilesmiles.

but hobie is cool (never has a label stuck to him like the one miles has given him), and his real, livin n breathing god is starting to ramble, so hobie webs them upupup, heat along his back as god wraps arms around him, breath on his neck as home weaves tales into the leather wrapping it.

then miles hears hobie's stomach growl, so he starts pulling them away from the path of what he knows is towards hobie's flat, and towards what he swears is the only good puerto rican food in the whole of hobie's haunt, his excitement steamrolling over his usual stuttering spanish, exchanging shouts n jeers with everyone behind the counter

bc everyone knows him, like miles has lived here, earth-138, new london, his whole life, like hobie brown being dragged into the shop every other week by miles morales to get the same two plates (n an extra something for miles to gush over n hobie to taste) is how the rest of this life will go, like hobie n miles are together, in a way that the unsubtle looks the owner's kid at the register is aiming at miles' left hand are correct, but don't involve stuffy socially religious systems like marriage

but they're not, as much as hobie would love to kiss miles, gaze into his eyes for ages, hear his laughter, his off-key singing, his scritch-scritch of something on paper everyday-- bc he can't go abt this like he does everyone else, can't do it with half a foot out the door n a shrug as agreed; it's gotta be both feet on the floor, n it's gotta be for the rest of this life, so he'll take what he can get, and he'll take the distance n devotion, take the faith n the heartache. take what he can get from his god, glad to be touched by his god, glad to be loved by his god, across universes n the fall from his bed to the futon on the floor where miles decides to lay his head for choice holy nights

(hobie doesn't know miles is putting himself at the base of his god's shrine, hoping for his deity to fall into his arms, spikes n all, (ready, so ready to tear apart dimensions again for hobie, to bleed and cry n go to war for hobie) fingers splaying on the side of the mattress warmwarmwarm after hobie starts snoring, before they slip down softly, a prayer imparting from the pads, memorizing the patterns of his god's breath, the smell of the room, the borrowed shirt he wears, the sounds of a second city he calls home, thrumming full with a bass note plucked from an electric guitar, usually shaky hands sure n still picking out a different shape to hobie's eyebrow piercing, deftly screwing a star onto the bar. miles brings offerings to his god in pins n patches on clothing, stickers n torn out sketches decorating a shrine)

so they'll song n dance in new york, in new london; learning each other's cities, earths, haunts, people, arts, each other, like new scars for the collection- permanent and signs of living, odes to loving and protecting.

chest to chest, fingers entwined, warmth in the skies above cities, right on the edge of it all until they fall together, eyes wide open, gods broken down into blood and teeth and lovelovelove

not-quite-yet 2 - 3

. my ko-fi 💛

ao3 link

[sammybeann]

I've been seeing a particular back and forth on the spn fandom side of tumblr regarding Wincest shippers, and though nobody asked, I'm voicing my opinion on the discourse.

The amount of time and energy people put into genuinely loathing those who enjoy a particular ship is astonishing.

To say people who enjoy Wincest are freaks, disgusting, and to even wish harm upon them is fucking WILD.

I'm unsure if anyone, especially Destiel shippers have got the memo, but they are ✨ fictional characters ✨

Enjoying the dynamic between brothers in a fictional sense doesn't mean shippers condone or practice incest in their day to day lives. Like wtf are you even smoking?

Castiel tortured Jimmy Novak, literally got him killed then continued to wear him as a meatsuit and y'all are wet at the prospect of Dean fucking the body of a man who didn't consent.

Tell me how that ship makes you any more moral that Wincest shippers.

People have real lives, families, friends, jobs, and to come on here, a site where people should be allowed to be themselves and enjoy their fandoms, and harp on how they're lesser than because you don't agree with them?

Fucking utterly pathetic, and I'm sorry you're so angry inside. Truly. Here's hoping for some personal growth from some of y'all.

[fallingoffnightmares]

beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all

[vhanitas-monstr]

my son, the fool

[m0rninglatte]

I couldn't resist the urge to go fuckin bonkers and draw Quixis as an entity

[TW:Eyes, Slight eye strain, Severed type limbs]

[The Mangus Archives? Don't know her /j]

[sillystringedrat]

Put some respect on the real Florida Man

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

God, your theories always find a way to completely change the angle we're looking at the story, like an ever turning Rubik's cube of mysteries and tragedies.

(I'm so excited to see what's gonna happen next and to be struck by the physic damage of all these theories/discussions)

(also your art is very wonderful)

thank you so much!!! i'm also Deeply Excited and simultaneously Full Of Dread! i may not survive this!

[ratatatastic]

is anyone else also haunted by the fact that anytime that thomas bordeleau (sj barracuda) walked in with mate in his hand he did not have a thermos anywhere near him

like this is how it typically looks when youre actively drink mate as you walk...

where...where is his thermos...

[druidgroves]

ngl if spite doesn't get to watch from the fade equivalent of the cuckhold chair i'll be disappointed