#i have been sitting on this for weeks

[arsontastic-fandom-takes]

It was an average day in the Devildom. (at least this version of it)

MC had shown up to the HOL and did whatever the 7 brothers needed them to, with the compulsory antics ensuing, as was customary. They were having fun, and it was all going well.

Until it wasn't.

The signs that they should rest their eyes started at around 14:16, and, like a stubborn idiot, they ignored them. The brothers would be here to take care of them, after all.

They didn't realise that they weren't in their timeline until their eyes were burning and they were rushing to their room, looking for eye drops, only to realise that it wasn't their room yet and their eyedrops were in Cocytus Hall, with Solomon.

As much as they loved the dumbass, they wouldn't trust him with this. And, while he could deal with joint pains and fatigue episodes, he couldn't deal with them constantly rubbing their eyes to try and alleviate the searing pain. He was an extremely powerful sorcerer who had even the strongest demons in his league, but he couldn't deal with people massaging their eyes. Or putting in eye drops.

Another thing about this timeline: none of the brothers trusted them yet. They're a weird demon to them, newly fallen angels, and asking them to look after them while their head hurt too much to think was downright stupid at this point in time.

As they were lamenting about their unfortunate circumstances, the door to the room opened behind them, and as soon as they heard who it was, MC knew they were fucked.

Their back still to the door, MC took a deep breath in and closed their eyes.

"What are you doing in here?" Lucifer asked, his voice threatening. One wrong move, and they'd have to deal with his anger, which, even on a good day, was unpleasant.

Heaven's sake, how do they even reply to that question without getting into trouble? They didn't think they could.

They willed themself to turn around, towards the light that was making them want to claw their eyeballs out, and open their eyes. Might as well be facing him when he kills them.

He was far away and blurry. Fuck, they weren't wearing their glasses. That's probably why the world itself seemed to hate them.

"... Well?" Dangerous. That was how they would explain this situation before them, were they asked. Even though they struggled to make out his face, it didn't take a genius to figure out he was challenging them.

He flips the light switch on, and all they can do to defend the attack against their corneas is to fall to their knees and cover their eyes, crying out. They suddenly felt very nauseous. Why does their eyes hurting always cause them to feel nauseous?

Nausea was one of the things they hated most. Naturally, behind burning pain and feeling useless. They were experiencing all three of those, but who truly cared? They'd dealt with this bullshit before and they'll probably survive, so they just have to wait it out and hope it feels better.

.....

Are their eyes getting worse, or are they just overexaggerating the problem? Either way, the backs of their eyes were feeling as if they had been dipped into molten lava and they had to keep an arm over their mouth to feel like they wouldn't puke. When was the last time they ate? Most of the food they had been able to eat didn't exist yet or weren't available in the Devildom yet, so they'd just been ignoring the growing pain in their stomach.

Oh shit. What if they starve to death?

That was unlikely, they knew, but it was still horrifying. Starving was one of the worst ways to die, other than dehydration, drowning, suffocation, and being burned alive. The thought of their stomach acid slowly eating through it's container, days worth of lacking nutrition and sustenance making their body turn against them, was causing them to hold their arm closer to their mouth, mostly in raw fear.

They was so caught up in their thoughts that they didn't notice Lucifer crouching down next to them until the feeling of a gloved hand on their head brought them out of their spiral.

They startled, opening their eyes despite the pain. He was close enough that they didn't need to be wearing their glasses to see him properly, and had concern etched onto his face, the earlier danger nowhere to be seen.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his hand returning to his side now that he'd caught their attention.

"Honestly? Not at all." They gave a humorless laugh.

"May I inquire about what's wrong?"

"Oh, just being plagued by visions. Y'know, the usual." They spoke the term they were used to. Back in their time, they had started referring to their eye problems like this to lighten their mood, and it just stuck.

Lucifer raised his eyebrow. It took them a second to realise that he hadn't encountered this yet.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. You probably don't know what I'm talking about. My eyes sometimes start burning, and I started calling it being 'plagued by visions' a few years ago."

"Ah. Burning, you say?"

"Yeah, it's usually, like, this searing pain at the backs of my eyes. Light usually makes it worse."

"Okay. Why were you in this room, though?"

Shit. They couldn't say this used to be their room. What excuse could they make to explain this? Maybe they could say half-truths?

"I thought my eye drops were in here. They weren't, though."

He eyed them suspiciously.

"Why would they be here? Last I remember, this room was off limits."

Lying to a very powerful demon wasn't that bad, right? Oh well, in for a penny, in for a dime.

"I honestly don't know."

He squinted at them. They squinted back.

After a while of staring at eachother, Lucifer spoke again.

"You said light makes it worse, correct?" A nod of confirmation. "Will you be able to walk home by yourself in this condition?"

They shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but I'll manage."

He scoffed. "If you are so willing to get away from here that you'd put your safety on the line, I don't know what to tell you. I will say that I won't permit our only attendant being run over on their way home, though."

"What do you suggest I do instead, then?"

"I suggest that you let me walk you home."

That caught them off guard. The Lucifer from their timeline never had to walk them home, but he only started walking them to their room after they became close. Maybe this was to do with Lucifer only recently having fallen. Maybe he's still used to his angel ways, as unlikely as that sounds.

Still, a part of their heart fluttered. Him showing signs of caring about what happens to them is currently akin to finding an oasis in a desert. They missed him being affectionate.

"All right. Thank you."

The walk home was nice, even if the street lights made them want to cry and it was quite silent. Lucifer was surprisingly helpful on the way, and now they were both standing at the front door of Cocytus Hall.

Mc turned around, gave a final salute to Lucifer, and then rang the doorbell before screaming. "Solomon, I know you're home already! Get your ass out of here and help your poor apprentice get into their home!"

After what seemed like a second of thought, they added; "And I swear to Diavolo that if you're anywhere near my stove, I will kick your ass."

After a minute, the door opened to reveal Solomon wearing a stain-covered apron. It was, indeed, the case that he had been cooking. "Oh, hello, dear! I thought I'd make you some dinner after your long day of work." At a murmer of "You little- I thought we agreed on you not using the kitchen?", he laughed. Then, he noticed Lucifer and raised an eyebrow.

Before he could question, Lucifer spoke up. "I was walking your, ahem, apprentice, home. I'll take my leave now."

Although the walk home for MC was pleasant, Lucifer's was full of doubts. Why had he offered to take them home? They probably could have made it themself. Also, why did he feeling so.. negative when Solomon called them 'dear'? He knew the two of them were in a relationship, it had been made apparent to him as soon as they could, but why did it irk him so?

He had paperwork to worry about, this was moronic to focus on.

________

Likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated.

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[yekokataa]

🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

the character everyone gets wrong

a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

worst discord server and why

which ship fans are the most annoying?

what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

worst part of canon

worst part of fanon

number of fandom-related words you've filtered

the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

worst blorboficiation

that one thing you see in fics all the time

that one thing you see in fanart all the time

you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

there should be more of this type of fic/art

it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

part of canon you found tedious or boring

part of canon you think is overhyped

your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

ship you've unwillingly come around to

topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

[hwashitape]

lungs, kidney, heart

[diangelosdays]

wylan and the other crows

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

some misc Barn & Wally doodles from the past week or so <3 i heart them

[hop-a-lot]

Thoughts on bidwell, Pauling and medic friendship?

I have an idea which they developed some kind of business partnership that might involve...organs trafficking

[stil-lindigo]

shallow grave.

a comic about accepting when your relationship is dead.

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creative notes:

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all my other comics

store

[cuddlebugmonster]

I present to you Luna Mikey ! From my apocalyptic AU Butterfly Effect !

This has been a little side project that i have been wanting to draw for so long !!!

Whenever i would see others draw peepaw apocalyptic Mikey, they would usually associate his magic with butterflies, materializing them for Casey or just in general

I wanted to play with that concept and make my own ! So yeah ! Born from love and in 2hours with AJR Inertia blasting on loop, this sketch and now full blown mystic warrior was born !

I have a whole story i would love to make, i already have the ending fully ready in my head.

When I was making this design i didn’t initially think about a specific butterfly, but when I drew the dread tails and it made me think of the Luna moth ! So I got curious and did some research, and HOLY SHIT i have never been so happy with results in my life !

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT THIS DOESN’T JUST SCREAM MIKEY !! it’s so perfect ! It fits so perfectly ! I swear I’m not crazy !!! It’s just AH ! It JUST.MAKES.SENSE !

I rest my case

Next

[b4kuch1n]

podcast people in my phone

[mochasucculent]

Yet another Owl House drawing I never finished (of which there are many lol)

It was a dual redraw of/homage to my first ever fanart from the day the pilot episode aired (below the cut), but this time done right after the show ended and with Eda's updated look! Though I lost steam fast I kinda like it this way lol, one of those things that probably would have lost its energy if I tried to line it yknow

[72ww]

what about lili and milla? feel like there’s not enough content of milla being maternal towards lili, especially with how lili’s probably spent more of her life being watched by milla in the summers at whispering rock than not

You are so so so so so right

Here re some sketches I did on that thought ^_^ Thank you for the interesting request

[waveoftheocean]

06.10.23 happy birthday iwa-chan!! sorry for inflicting paperwork on you for your bday but at least you have oikawa to help (coughdistractcough) you 🥰

[taciturnstripofbeefjerky]

butch beach buddies

[evilfarmin]

Europeans are asleep post pitch drop experiment.

[bethrnoora]