#he’s such a smug bitch

[nobody3xe]

Azul Ashengrotto

[captainsaltypear]

getting arrested by the universal stability agency.......WITH STYLE.

[fyoht]

oh my god. look at him. what a little bitch.

[jiiyawns]

yeah im normal. im very normal. so normal. shadow prime amirite guys

i like this one the most so close up (ironically, this is the color palette i was the most scared to deal with bc i don't usually use greens)

[bladders-gate-three]

LISTEN

LISTEN

So in act 3 of BG3 you get access to the Helldusk armor, right? Like you take the breastplate off of Raphael, and yoink the helmet and gloves from elsewhere in his house…

BUT WHERE ARE THE SHOES?!?

TURNS OUT THEY’RE IN THIS CHEST…. At the Foot of Enver Gortash’s stinky little bed!!!

This little shit spent all his time around Raphael, who clearly has control issues; the only thing he took with him were the shoes to a perfect set of armor.

Because armor with mismatched shoes looks dumb.

IMAGINE BEING RAPHAEL thinking: that little shit stole my amazing boots. And you think; he’s probably wearing them right now.

and then

AND THEN YOU SEE HIM WEARING THESE

THE AUDACITY.

Also his parents were cobblers and he now has the world’s ugliest shoes, but keeps some of the best greaves ever made in his toy chest. Double whammy.

[atmilliways]

Preview

@steddiemicrofic

written for ‘Pine’ | wc: 508 | rated: T Kind of a time travel fic, kind of a future fic. Established relationship, but also not. With a whiff of mutual pining.

Eddie is cold. He’s so fucking cold, clutched in Henderson’s arms. 

And then he isn’t. 

He’s hot, dripping sweat instead of blood. Standing, feet aching like he’s been on them all day. Everything is light and heat and noise, the clanging of metal and the sizzle and smell of things cooking, people bustling. He sways on his feet, and—

“You okay, chef?”

It’s too much. Eddie’s eyes roll back, gone before he even falls.

He wakes in a soft bed, softer than he’s ever felt in his entire life. It smells of pine-scented laundry detergent, weed smoke, and comfort. 

“Eds?” Steve Harrington leans over him with concern and relief in his eyes, and something warm that chases the last of the cold from Eddie’s blood. He’s clasping Eddie’s hand in both of his.

Something’s off, though. Steve looks . . . older. And damn good in glasses, but since when did Steve Harrington need glasses?

“You passed out at work, babe.”

Babe.

Babe.

“King Steve holding my hand,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m either dreaming or dead.”

“. . . Oh.” Steve’s grip tightens, reminding Eddie that, oh yeah, he can hear him. Maybe not a dream, if he doesn’t get to have his privacy when thinking out loud. “Okay, so this is happening. Uh. . . . What year do you think it is?”

Eddie frowns. It’s 1986, but. . . . When he looks down at himself there are scars and unfamiliar tattoos and, weirdly, a distinct lack of one nipple on his own chest. Why is he shirtless?

His silence seems answer enough, because Steve nods. “Okay. You told me this was going to happen, just weren’t sure when. The last thing you remember is the Upside Down, right? Bats?”

The bats. Eddie shudders with his entire body. 

“Okay,” Steve says again, smoothing his thumbs over the knuckles and palm of Eddie’s hand. “You’re going to be fine, Eds. This is just a blip.” He offers an awkward smile. “But you’re going to go back, and it’s going to really hurt for a while but you’re going to be fine. Just do your stretches, I remember how much you hated that shit but it’s important.”

Eddie can’t wrap his head around what Steve is saying. His voice is small when he asks, “Will I still be able to play?”

The smile firms up, genuine. “Yeah. Not quite as good as before, we all know how important your left nipple was for that, but. You have guitars all over the damn place, really clutters up our apartment.”

“Our?” Eddie croaks. 

Another squeeze of his hand. “Yeah. Don’t leave me hanging too long when you get back, okay?”

He wants to ask more, but sleep is tugging at him and the bed is so soft. 

He wakes up in a hospital bed, and the Steve Harrington he knows is asleep in the visitor’s chair, hand on the sheet next to Eddie’s. 

And Eddie, not wanting to leave him hanging, breathes through the pain as he reaches to hold it.

(also on Ao3)

[liauditore]

I have not stopped talking about the way you draw Impulse since you posted that art, he's such a silly guy and I love him

hello again zera hopepetal!! I'm glad you like him he's fun to draw even tho i keep getting his hair the wrong way around but shh. the fandom at large is so so right abt him being big and strong. vibes are immaculate.

he somehow manages to be both the relatively reasonable mum friend and the one who causes problems on purpose in my head 👍very silly very good

^ both are canon to me

[crystallizsch]

okay so hear me out (lil addition to this post)

[skittlewaffle]

I brought Sun and Moon to the gym and everyone seemed to go bonkers for them

[immarainbowpatooie]

[main-clown]

Listen I know that canonically he is bad in bed but um

Yeah well um

I’d peg this man uh huh

[froot-of-the-vine]

finished zero year today and had to make a shitty doodle of capullo riddler lest i explode. what more is there to say

[helaenasaegon]

I don’t think Almond/Grass stans realize that what he did was basically the equivalent of taking a dead woman’s beloved horse right after her funeral and then when her daughter says it should’ve gone to her, saying “Finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers!” and then insulting her and shoving her to the floor. While she’s freshly grieving her mother. While he still has a mother who spoils him rotten. And then he started a whole fucking fight.

“Poor traumatized baby” my ass. 🙄

[praying-to-agni-at-midnight]

This game needs to stop targeting me.

[unstatedmartini]

but what makes pearce risher such a great comedic antagonist is that he's NOT a bad paramedic. in fact he's great at his job! just like he's great at baseball and being an eagle scout and probably everything else he sets his mind to! the absolutely unhinged level of pettiness he inspires in the 126 wouldn't be funny if he was actually a piece of shit. it's funny because he's accomplished, handsome, athletic, confident, and relentlessly smug about how superior he feels to the feral trash pandas of the 126. he's not the bad guy, he's the jim sterling, and the reason the whole dynamic works is because sterling never loses

[ill-procastinato]

My favourite politician fr

source: [x]