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hbyrde36 · 25 days

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Chapter 1: Under My Skin

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art (coming soon!) by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 5937 | Chapters: 1/2 | AO3 Link

Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that.

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.

But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse.

Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever.

And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.

Eddie had just started wiping down the front desk counter, which doubled as a display case for the various accessories and body jewelry they carried trying to kill some time between his last appointment and cover-up-guy, when Chrissy came walking out of her studio.

It was one of the biggest perks, in his opinion, of owning their own shop. Not only did each of them finally have their own work spaces—no more having to listen to other client conversations or fighting over a single bluetooth speaker—but being their own bosses also meant they could decorate and customize their own studios to their heart’s content.

The main area of the shop was a bit of a catch-all, much like his and Chrissy’s shared apartment. It featured neutral walls lined with a mishmash of all the things they loved, sprinkled in and amongst odd antiques, knick-knacks, and various pieces of unique artwork. There was everything from vintage vinyl record jackets tacked to the wall, to faux taxidermy mountings of creatures that had never existed in real life.

Entering Chrissy’s studio was a little like stepping inside a Lisa Frank notebook cover. All vibrant rainbow colors and aggressive animal print. Eddie had painted the walls himself, color matching the exact shade of fuchsia as the adjustable chair he’d custom ordered just for her. He was no interior designer so she’d taken it from there, and though the finished product was a little too bright for his tastes, even he had to admit it was still pretty fucking metal.

Eddie’s space was the polar opposite, featuring dark stained wood furniture and a style of decor that could be best described as a slightly more grown up version of a teenage boy's bedroom. Band and movie posters lined three of the walls, but instead of being held up with thumbtacks, or scotch tape, they were neatly laid in matching frames with thick black edging. The remaining wall held a gallery of photos. Him and Wayne from their last fishing trip, one from when he and Chrissy had received the keys to the parlor unlocking its doors on the first day that it was theirs, and an old snap of him and his high school bandmates standing in front of their homemade banner, among many others.

It wasn’t until Chrissy came up to lean on the counter with her jacket zipped-up and her purse slung over her shoulder that he realized something was up.

“Don’t forget to lock up when you're done.” She said, tapping her nails on the glass. “Oh! And can you stop and pick up some oat milk on your way home? We’re out.”

“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you have a client booked tonight too? I thought we were in this together, Cunningham!”

“Not anymore.” She said cheerfully, leaning across the counter to rest her elbows on the glass, leaving an ink smudge on the exact spot he had just finished cleaning. He swatted at her with the damp rag and she jerked back with a giggling-gasp.

“Mine had to cancel.”

Eddie groaned. “I hate when clients do that.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s like a free night off I wasn’t expecting.”

“Not exactly free, since canceling means not paying in full.” He grumbled.

“Oh lighten up! It’s not like we’re that behind on bills or anything.”

“Tell that to the electric company.” He said, mostly to tease her, though he couldn't help glancing up at the excessively large and kitschy skull chandelier he’d found on Amazon that definitely didn’t use high efficiency light bulbs, but he had sworn at the time was worth it for The Aesthetic™.

“Why are you always so grumpy?” Chrissy asked, jutting her lip out in a dramatic reenactment of him pouting.

Not that he was one to pout.

“I’m not!”

“Look at your face, you're grumpy right now!”

“That's because y- you’re…” He cut himself off with a sigh.

He couldn't begrudge her the time off, he’d be hightailing it out of there just the same if it had been him.

“Just get out of here.” He said, conceding defeat.

She beamed. “Okay! See you later!” She said, all but sprinting to the front doors. “Don’t forget about the milk!”

“Wait, why can’t you–” He started to ask, but she was on the other side of the door before he could get the words out.

“Oh forget it.” He mumbled, stashing the glass cleaner away where it belonged.

About fifteen minutes later the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of what Eddie assumed to be his last customer of the day.

Except, it couldn't be.

It couldn’t possibly be because the Adonis that had just entered his humble tattoo parlor was, quite frankly, bonkers hot. There was no way, absolutely no way someone had this guy—this guy—so obsessed with them that he went and got their name tattooed on his perfect body and then just… let him go.

It was unthinkable.

“Hi, you must be Eddie. I recognized you from your Instagram.” Pretty-boy said with a shy smile.

“Steve?” Eddie asked, blinking hard, completely unable to mask the tone of disbelief.

The other man nodded.

Shit, okay.

So this was him—Steeeeeeve Harrington. This was the guy.

Maybe there was something wrong with him? There had to be a catch, a series of very red flags or something because all Eddie could think about at that moment was, if he ever got a chance with Steve? He’d never let him go.

Get it together, Munson!

The bright side, of a sort, was that Steve smacked of straight guy energy, so it was unlikely Eddie would even be in the running for a chance anyway. Better to just put it out of his mind.

Though, he supposed he could still… look. It's not like looking ever hurt anyone. Not that he made a habit out of ogling the clientele. Of course, none of his other customers had ever come in wearing vintage Levi’s that fit their ass like a glove, not to mention the way they fit around his–

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

Had Steve been talking this whole time while he’d been off daydreaming about what those sinfully tight jeans might look like on his bedroom floor?

“Yeah.” A soft chuckle fell from Eddie’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “S- sorry, man. Spaced out for a second there I guess.”

What the fuck was wrong with him today?!

“It’s okay. I was just asking if the plan was still the same? In your last email you suggested we should do this over two appointments.”

Work question… yes, good. Focus on the job!

“Right. With what we talked about I'd like to concentrate on just the outline today, maybe a little shading, and then in six weeks or so once that’s healed have you come back for the color. If you’re still alright with that?”

Eddie could do the whole thing in one shot if Steve really wanted to sit that long, but with something like this he didn't want to feel rushed. He’d done a few concept sketches after emailing back and forth with Steve about what he was looking for, and honestly what they’d come up with wasn’t really his usual style. He could do it, he was more than capable, but he had to wonder why Steve had picked him, out of all the tattoo artists in the city. He’d seen Eddie’s Instagram, so he knew the kind of work he usually churned out. Hell, Chrissy would have been the more obvious choice for this.

Of course, now that he’d gotten an eye-full of Steve in person he was glad he hadn’t tried to pawn him off on her. He was also really hoping Steve would agree to the split sessions, it would give them an excuse to see each other again.

“Whatever you think is best. I’m putting myself in your expert hands.” Steve said, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

That was… interesting.

Maybe Eddie had been a little bit hasty in his initial straight assessment?

Steve’s deposit had been paid, and they’d already gone over pricing through email so there wasn't much to discuss as far as that was concerned, After signing some paperwork and getting the other man’s ID scanned into the system there was nothing left to do but walk Steve back to his studio and get this show on the road.

“You can go ahead and take your shirt off, get comfortable. I’ll show you the stencil I drew up and if it looks good we can put it on and get started.” Eddie said, gesturing to his client chair.

He leaned over his desk while Steve got situated, taking a second to gather his thoughts, as well as add a small finishing touch to the transfer sketch before turning back to his client. The sight made his throat go dry.

It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

At Eddie's direction, in preparation, Steve had shaved his chest. More specifically, Steve had shaved half of his chest. The side Eddie would be working on, that sported the existing tattoo, was bare—smooth as a baby's bottom. The other side was…

It was…

Jesus Christ.

It should have looked ridiculous actually, and it was a little funny, but honestly all Eddie could think when he stared at the untrimmed side of Steve's upper body, resplendent with the most glorious chest hair, was that it was a travesty, a crime even, that he’d never get to see the whole thing grown out in its full glory.

The lack of a shirt also highlighted the fact that Steve was incredibly toned, much more so than he had initially appeared even through his slim fit henley.

Eddie shook his head, praying it had suddenly become an etch-a-sketch and he could clear out his thoughts by sheer force.

He truly didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was hardly the first time he’d worked on someone he found attractive, but usually he didn’t notice it quite this much. When you pierce and tattoo for a living you get used to seeing a lot of bare skin, including occasionally, areas typically reserved for romantic partners. Professional hazzard, but it’d never been a problem for him before. He was an artist, this was his craft, and bare skin was just another kind of canvas.

He blamed it on his current dry spell, self-imposed as it was.

It was easy enough to go out on a Saturday and find a guy or girl to bring home for the night, but he was so tired of one night stands and meaningless hookups in bar bathrooms. Where was the substance? He wanted companionship. He wanted a partner. He wanted to fall in love.

Eddie cleared his throat and crossed the room to hand Steve the stencil, busying himself with raising up his stool to the proper height and pulling on a pair of thick black neoprene gloves while the other man looked it over.

“It’s great.” Steve said.

“Good.” Eddie quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Alright I'm gonna put this on and have you take a look at the placement, make sure you like it, then we can get started.”

Eddie squeezed out a dime sized amount of the stencil gel and rubbed it into Steve’s chest, laying the transfer paper down in just the right way so that the final design would sufficiently cover what was underneath, assuming he had scaled it right.

It was perfect. After a quick check in the mirror, Steve agreed.

While they waited for it to dry Eddie double checked his set up to make sure he had everything he would need for the session.

“Ready to get started?”

Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Yeah. I am.”

His reply felt heavy, like maybe he was talking about more than just the tattoo. Had they known each other at all Eddie might have asked about it, but they were basically strangers, and it wasn’t his job to pry.

With steady hands he set the needle to Steve's skin and got to work.

They weren’t at it for very long before Steve started to squirm.

Eddie ignored it at first, he could tell the guy was trying hard to keep himself still, and he wasn’t really moving enough to actually disturb the work. Sometimes it took a bit for clients to sink into the feeling, to let the pain fade to the background enough that they could relax a little bit or at least be able to keep their body from trying to react to the odd sensation. But then he noticed the light sheen of sweat spreading over Steve's upper body, and would have sworn he could somehow feel the other man’s pulse quickening beneath the hand he had pressed so closely to his heart, even over the vibration of the tattoo machine.

He should probably stop and do a check-in, suggest a breather or some water. It wouldn't be the first time a seemingly tough muscle-bound guy had struggled to sit for him.

He opened his mouth to say something about it, lifting the needle as he took a quick glance up at Steve’s face, but what he saw had the words dying on his tongue. Steve was staring back at him, face flushed, breath coming quick and shallow, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

That… did not look like a face that was in pain—or rather—it didn’t seem like the pain was unpleasant.

Fuck.

Eddie flicked his gaze quickly back down to his hands, the needle, fighting the urge to look lower.

He shouldn’t.

It wasn’t right.

The professional thing to do would be to ignore the reaction completely.

But Eddie was a weak, weak man.

He looked.

Just a quick peek, less than a half-second that his eyes wandered south, and immediately he regretted it.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck.

Suspicion confirmed. Steve was hard. He was also huge if the unmistakable outline was any indication. Eddie bit his tongue, fighting back the groan that was trying to fight its way out of his throat.

Those jeans should be fucking illegal. The only thing worse would’ve been a pair of gray sweatpants. Now he was the one sweating.

“Sorry.” Steve said, voice strained.

Eddie stilled, lifting the machine away from Steve's chest again before looking back up to meet his eyes.

“For?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

“It’s fine, really. It… happens. Everyone reacts differently to the pain.”

Steve let out a high pitched and breathy huff of laughter. “It wasn’t like this last time.” He muttered under his breath.

Eddie tried hard not to read into that, not to think about what the difference might be.

“Do you need to take a break?”

“No,” Steve swallowed hard. Eddie watched, momentarily mesmerized by the bob of his adams apple. “But, uh, can we talk or something? To distract me?”

He sounded so vulnerable, and a little embarrassed. It was enough to snap Eddie out of his daze. The last thing he wanted was for the person in his chair to feel uncomfortable. Talking he could do, it was one of his best things.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked casually, getting right back into his line work.

“You.” Steve answered quickly, pausing to clear his throat. “Um, I mean, did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. I used to spend all my time, including the time I should have been using to study or do my homework, drawing, sketching, painting, you name it, and it just kinda developed from there. I gave myself my first stick-and-poke when I was about 15. My uncle was pissed. Not about the tattoo exactly, but he was worried I wasn't being safe enough about it—sanitary and stuff. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. So, Wayne took me out the next day and we got a book about it, and he bought me all the right materials. Even let me practice on him when I graduated to a tattoo machine.”

“He sounds like a really great guy.” Steve said.

“Yeah, he is.” Eddie could feel the wistful smile spreading across his own face. “Not just anyone could step in and raise someone else’s kid like that. Just wish I got to see him more. I go back to Indiana to visit him a few times a year, but it’s not the same.”

“I don’t see my family very much either, but we’re not close.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My parents, they’re–” Steve trailed off as if looking for the right words. “Well, let's just say they're not as supportive of my—life choices, as your uncle was for you.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, came out to them a while ago… as bisexual? They didn’t take it very well. Said I was just going through some kind of phase or crisis or something. Sorry, this is probably, like, way too much information to share with someone I just met.”

“No. it’s—Okay, maybe to a normal person it might be but I've never been what anyone would describe as normal. And… I get it.”

Eddie didn’t really have to say it. The outside of the shop sported every kind of pride flag you could think of. There were pictures right behind him on the wall of him and Chrissy at their first ever pride parade right here in the city. Not to mention his social media profiles, where he had a bi flag right next to his age and pronouns in his bio. Steve knew, was the point, and Eddie was glad he’d felt safe enough in his shop—with him, to talk about it.

“Wayne was really good about that too.” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t.”

A comfortable silence settled between them after that and Eddie left it unbroken, better to let Steve decide which direction their conversation went from here—if he wanted to continue it. He seemed more relaxed already and his… predicament had mercifully gone down as they spoke.

“When did you—how did you… know?“ Steve asked after a while.

“Junior High.” Eddie answered quickly, smiling to himself as he indulged in a little nostalgia. “Kinda the opposite of the usual story, I guess. I thought I was gay. I had such a crush on this boy a grade above me. Nobody that would have given me the time of day mind you, I was a band geek and a huge nerd, but he was very nice to look at. Then he changed schools. I was heartbroken of course, which is my excuse for why I let this girl drag me under the bleachers during gym class. One second we were just sitting there talking and the next she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat.”

“And?”

Eddie shrugged. “And I didn’t hate it. I reacted exactly the way a young boy reacts when a pretty girl is kissing them and grinding in their lap. Honestly, it blew my mind a little bit—had to reevaluate my whole world view.”

Steve hummed in understanding.

“It’s still mostly men for me but–” Eddie sighed wistfully, “Women.”

“Women,” Steve agreed reverently, letting out a soft laugh. “It was a bit more recent for me. A friend took me to a gay bar—dragged me there actually.” He started to shake his head, stopping instantly when he seemed to realize he might be moving too much.

Good boy.

Eddie smirked. “I bet you were popular.”

“You could say that. I’ve never had so many people offer to buy me a drink in my life.” As Steve went on he began to rub his hand along the chair's armrest, mindlessly drawing patterns into its surface with his long fingers.

“It’s funny, at 25 I didn’t think I had anything new to discover about myself, at least nothing big, but after that rather eye-opening evening I had to, like you said, reevaluate some things about myself. It wasn’t a huge shock I guess. Like, I had found guys attractive before—friends, celebrities, whatever, I just thought everyone felt that way.”

“Ah, the bisexual’s fallacy. Sure I think about other dudes sometimes, but only the normal amount.” Eddie said.

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t!”

Eddie stopped tattooing as they held each other's gaze, both managing to keep a straight face for only a second before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter.

Figuring it was as good a time as any to take a short break, Eddie stripped his gloves off and slid across the room on his stool to a small mini-fridge he kept tucked under his desk, stocked with water and juice—something he always kept on hand in case a client got lightheaded.

As they sipped their drinks and both took an opportunity to stretch, Eddie decided it was finally time to put his foot in his mouth.

“So, how are you enjoying things on this side of the field? Someone as pretty as you, I'm sure you get asked out a lot.”

“No, uh, I don't know. I- I haven't really been out on any dates with guys.” Steve stuttered out nervously. “Kissed a few, but that’s all.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eddie said. He meant it too. Not only was Steve something special to look at, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He deserved to be taken out and shown a good time. Maybe he was shy.

Steve laid back in the chair, puffing his chest out as he got back into position while Eddie slipped a new pair of gloves on.

“Why, you offering to show me the ropes?” Steve asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

Eddie’s mouth went dry.

Okay, not that shy then. Surely it was just fun friendly flirting though, right?

“Don’t tempt me.” Eddie teased back. Two could play this game.

“Why not?”

“First rule of the trade, or at least the Munson doctrine, no dating the clients.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve said, and without even looking up Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, a hint of–challenge accepted–in his tone.

The next hour flew by as they continued to chat, both remarking on the differences between small town life and city life, as well as lamenting how expensive it was, and how neither of them thought they’d still be living with roommates in their mid-to-late-20's.

For a while Eddie waxed poetic about Chrissy, who of course filled the roles of bestie, roommate, and business partner, which tickled Steve to no end.

He told the other man how they’d met, apprenticing at the same tattoo parlor at around the same time. and wound up bonding for life almost immediately. They were total opposites on the surface but deep down they were remarkably similar. Eddie didn’t go into too much detail, as it wasn’t his story to tell, but alluded to the fact that he and Chrissy had the shared experience of being born to shitty parents, only to be raised by another family member. A grandmother in Chrissy’s case.

It meant that they understood each other more than most, and yeah, being around one another 24/7 also meant they got on each other’s nerves a lot, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

At some point Steve’s cell phone began to ring from where it was shoved in his front pocket. He apologized profusely for forgetting to switch it on silent before they’d gotten started, but Eddie assured him it wasn’t a big deal.

Or—it wouldn't have been, except either it was some kind of emergency, or someone who was intent on reaching Steve immediately, and continued trying to call three more times.

“We can take a break if you need to get that.” Eddie offered.

Truth be told he could use a little breather himself. All this time of being essentially face down in Steve’s incredible chest was getting to him a little bit, not to mention the way his forearm lightly brushed along Steve's stomach whenever he braced himself across the man’s body. The feel of their bare skin touching was almost too much, and more than once Eddie felt himself breaking out in goosebumps.

“Yeah, I think we’d better. It’s gotta be my little brother and knowing him he won’t stop calling until I answer.”

Eddie busied himself removing his gloves and taking a long drink from his water bottle while he flipped through a few drawings on his side table, trying to look like he wasn’t hearing every word of Steve's side of the conversation.

“Hey buddy, I'm a little busy right now. What’s going on?”

Steve paused, listening attentively to the voice on the other end of the call.

“Dustin, he’s not abandoning you. Just because he wants–”

Sighing as he was abruptly interrupted, Steve somehow made the huff of breath sound both annoyed and fond.

“Well, did he actually say he didn’t want to play D&D with you anymore?”

Eddie’s head snapped up of its own volition. Did the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in real life just say D&D?

“That’s what I thought.” Steve said with a satisfied tone. “It's gonna be fine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Tell your mom I said hi.”

“Sorry about that.” Steve said, addressing Eddie this time, rolling his eyes as he ended the call. “Teenagers.”

“Pretty cool little brother if he plays Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned. “Not you too! He and all his little friends are obsessed with it.”

“I used to play all the time with a group back in high school. We still try and get together for a one-shot at the holidays when we’re all back home visiting.” Eddie paused, concentrating for a second on wiggling his fingers into yet another set of gloves. There wasn’t really all that much left to do, another 20 minutes or so and he’d be done with the outline. “Was he alright, your brother?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Steve replied as he sat back, getting into position. “We, uh, technically we’re not actually related—I'm an only child. But I used to babysit Dustin when he was younger and when he grew up I just sorta stuck around. It’s only him and his mom at home and I guess I thought… I dunno, like, maybe I could help? I drove him to his first school dance, taught him how to do his hair, shave, that kinda stuff.”

“That's… that’s really sweet, man. I’m sure he appreciates having you around.”

With every new thing he learned about Steve, Eddie felt like he was in deeper and deeper trouble. He’d been having a tough enough time keeping it together with simply lusting over a hot body, but now Steve was turning out to be this sweetheart of a guy and, client or not, Eddie thought he might just be worth breaking all the rules for.

“He’s worried his friend group is falling apart because one of the guys is going out for the basketball team. He’s afraid if Lucas gets in good with the jocks he won’t want to play with them anymore.”

“As a former outcast and enemy to jocks everywhere, I can understand his concern.”

“Are you saying we wouldn't have been friends in high school then?”

“Steve, Stevie, please. Please don’t tell me…” Eddie trailed off, stopping what he was doing and gasping for dramatic effect–hand over his heart. “Oh god, you were captain of the sportsball team weren’t you?”

Steve giggled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with it. “Basketball, to be exact. I was the co-captain of the swim team too.”

“I knew it would never work between us.” Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he got back to tattooing. “Are you reformed, at least?”

“Once a jock, always a jock, I'm afraid. I’m a personal trainer now.”

It explained a lot, and the perks—pun absolutely intended—of Steve's day job were undeniable, but as hot as the mental image of him pumping iron was, the idea of Steve palling around with toxic gym bros all day was almost enough to have Eddie second guessing everything.

“Don’t worry though, I don’t like gym bros any more than the next guy.” Steve said conspiratorially. “My clients are mainly older women looking to maintain their strength and mobility as they age.”

Aaaaand Eddie stood corrected. “Lucky ladies.”

Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more perfect?

Steve shifted in his seat, starting to get antsy after keeeping still for so long.

“Just a few more minutes, almost done.” Eddie murmured, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on a spot near the curve of Steve’s collarbone.

“Do you do a lot of these? Cover-ups I mean?” Steve asked. “My roommate is the one who actually suggested it. For some reason I just never thought about it as an option.”

“I don’t know if i’d say a lot, but a fair few, yeah.”

“You, um. You can ask about it… If you want.”

Eddie glanced up in surprise. He would never have brought it up without being prompted, it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t deny he was curious, and if Steve was okay with it then–

“Okay, I'll bite. Who’s Nancy?”

“My fiance’. Well, ex-fiance’ now. We broke things off a little over a year ago.”

“That’s rough, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, It’s… I should have probably seen it coming? We were high school sweethearts—got together before we really knew who we were on our own. But I was dumb and in love. I got the tattoo and proposed. I was so happy that day, but looking back it was so obvious that she’d only said yes out of pity or guilt, not because she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The part of Eddie that believed in true love—and all that cheesy shit—was sad that a couple who had been together for so long, who had essentially grown up together, hadn’t been able to make it work. Selfishly though, a small piece of him was happy to learn that they’d been broken up for quite some time, lessening the chance that, if he did somehow gather the courage to ask Steve out when the tattoo was done, he wouldn’t be on the rebound.

“It was tough. I felt like a failure for a long time, like I was having to start my whole life over from scratch when I'd thought for so long that she was it for me, but it's actually been… good. We weren’t right for eachother, I can see that now. As much as it hurt, I'm grateful she had the courage to break things off when she did.”

“I’m glad you’ve been able to come to peace with it.”

“Getting this tattoo feels like the final step into letting that life go, y’know?”

Eddie nodded. Steve’s demeanor before they got started made so much sense now.

“Is there some significance to the design?” He asked, making his final line and setting the machine down. He wiped at the excess ink on Steve's skin, raising his head just in time to see the way the other man’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Robin. She–she’s everything to me. Like a best friend, but more somehow. I don’t think I really knew what unconditional love was before her. She’s like, another piece of my soul or something. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Eddie froze.

The tattoo design was a bird—a robin.

A robin.

For, Robin.

How could he have been so stupid!

Of course, Steve was getting one girl’s name covered up with something to represent the new one.

Jesus Christ, they were both idiots.

Eddie for getting his hopes up, and Steve for making the same mistake—twice. At least this time it was a symbol and not a name, so if he and the latest potential Mrs. Harrington didn’t work out, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering it up.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked.

The question spurred Eddie back into action. He spread the foam soap over Steve’s chest continuing to clean the finished tattoo while his heart crawled up into his throat.

“Yup. All good.” Eddie forced the words out.

That's what Steve must have meant about not going on dates, he already had someone at home. Why hadn’t he just said that before though? And why had he flirted with him?

Maybe he’d felt funny at first about admitting to being with a woman after all the talk about being bisexual. Not that Eddie would have judged, but he knew a lot of people did—bi erasure was so real. He understood that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less that Steve had, inadvertently or not, lead him on.

Eddie gently patted the newly cleaned skin dry with a paper towel and carefully applied a square of Saniderm over the area, smoothing it out as he gave Steve his usual spiel, albeit a little robotically, about how to care for the tattoo over the coming days and weeks.

He quickly turned his back when he was done, telling Steve he could get dressed, and feeling stupid as all hell for being this upset about a guy he barely knew. He’d felt something though, potential—a spark. It was more than he’d felt for anyone in a long time.

Steve got quiet, looking a little confused with the sudden 180° Eddie’s mood had pulled. He felt a little bad about that as he brought the guy back out to the counter, but it wasn’t as though he’d suddenly become unprofessional. He was just… no longer being overly friendly.

After confirming the date for his second session, Steve paid his balance and Eddie walked him to the door.

“Have a good night, Steve. Call the shop if you have any concerns or questions about aftercare.”

Steve bit his lip. “Oh, I… okay. See you in six weeks then.”

Eddie forced a smile, waiting until Steve was out of sight around the corner to lock up, and slunk back to his studio to disinfect it so he could finally go home and sulk.

Chapter 2

All my thanks to @penny00dreadful for all of your wonderful beta work, and cheerleading, and support, and just generally being THE BEST 💜

#steddie fanfic #stranger things reverse big bang #steddie #tattoo artist eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #tattoo artist chrissy cunningham

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pinkiepiebones · 1 year

Note

may i ask for all the Renfield details from the Fangoria article you mentioned

Sorry for replying late, I think you sent this just as I was going to sleep

FANGORIA TIDBITS!!!!

-They did multiple takes and variations of scenes. Director Chris McKay said every take with Cage was "so fucking watchable" and that having those dozens of takes to choose from was "the hardest thing about cutting* the movie" (*I think that means editing)

-Hoult once told Cage, between takes, that he had been trying to do the Dwight Frye laugh in the scene they were filming, and on the next take Cage "suddenly threw that laugh back at me and started mocking me with it."

-In one version of the apartment confrontation scene, Cage's Dracula uses the eyeball garnishing his bloody martini like a little puppet, "talking to it before slurping it up."

-This quote from the director: "Much like Lego Batman, where I posited that our Batman is every version of Batman, I wanted to put Cage in the Frank Langella movie and the Christopher Lee movies and everything else. If I'd had the money and time, there would've been a snippet of him in every decade there was a Dracula movie." (fwiw the budget of Renfield was reportedly around $65mil and they shot and edited it in less than a year's time)

-Cage is only the seventh actor to play Dracula for Universal studios. More men have walked on the Moon. Said Cage: "I'm proud to be a member of that club."

-Cage said his Dracula was primarily inspired in part by his father - "My dad was someone who wanted to speak with distinction. He didn't have a full-on British accent but he did have a mid-Atlantic accent because he was a professor... Dracula's an articulate, elegant and eloquent character, and my dad had all those elements" - and Ann Bancroft's character Mrs. Robinson from the movie The Graduate - "The way she was abusing Dustin Hoffman's character, and the fact that she was an alcoholic... All that, to me, worked, because this take on Dracula is really about his relationship with Renfield, a toxic relationship. And it's this master/servant crap that so many people deal with, whether it's at work or an unfortunate romantic relationship..."

-Hoult worked with Cage before- he played Cage's son in 2005's The Weather Man

-Costume designer Lisa Lovaas on working with Cage again: "I knew from my experience (on Superman Lives) that Nic was totally game. I could present him with an elaborate Dracula, and he would be 100% on board. He walked out of the fitting saying 'This is it, we've done it.'"

-Dracula has monogrammed Dolce & Gabbana shoes

-The writer of the article doesn't say much more about the costuming but wrote "Dracula shares a shirtmaker with Frank Sinatra, I'm told," and I'm not entirely sure what that means?

-Director McKay on the blood in the movie: "I wanted the blood to be a certain colour of red, more like the Tom Savini Dawn of the Dead blood."

-SFX designer Christien Tinsley studied up on corpses to get Dracula's varying skintones right. "Is Dracula just pale, or does he have an undertone of colour? Is that colour more sallow and corpse-like, or is it more blue and cool tones? ... Hundreds of years ago, hospitals and morgues would bring in artisans to recreate the corpse in wax as it was being dissected. And they would do this in beautiful colours, yellows and blues, copying what they were seeing, but giving them these beautiful colour palettes..." Tinsley used those corpse palettes as the basis for Dracula's skin.

-Tinsely also had a tough makeup challenge with Hoult's Renfield: "He's not seeing much daylight, not really taking care of himself. However, 100 years ago he was a respectable lawyer... So we scrapped the idea of making him look unkempt; he has traditions. But now his skin is the same cool tones as Dracula; they're family. And we see a transition in his appearance as he becomes stronger and healthier, emotionally and mentally."

-Hoult on his Renfield: "The version of Renfield that we are seeing is ninety years after the original. The madness has been beaten out of him. He's been under the thumb of this powerful man, taking care of him... for so long."

#renfield #renfield movie #renfield 2023 #robbie don't look

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ckret2 · 1 year

Note

This design is so good!!! Would love to know more about Mabel’s interactions with Bill!

(Footnotes: "wtf is that purple thing Bill's wearing?" The first thing he could find. "Mabel has an earring?" Yeah that's how I've decided to show she's 13. Also her braces are a slightly different color because I got to choose new rubber bands colors whenever I went to the orthodontist. "What's the joke with Xanthe?" It's an Ancient Greek name that means golden/yellow. "Is this why Bill's fake name around outsiders is 'Goldie'?" Yes. It's short for Goldilocks.)

They get along like a house on fire. They get along so well it makes everyone else kind of nervous. They get along so well the others suspect Bill's faking it to manipulate Mabel.

In truth, they actually do get along like that. If the inside of Stan's mind looks like a black-and-white Escher painting and the inside of Ford's mind looks like a somber Kubrick movie and the inside of Dipper's mind looks a lot like reality, then the inside of Mabel's mind looks like a collaboration between Hieronymus Bosch and Lisa Frank—and wouldn't you know, the inside of Bill's looks a lot alike. Neon DayGlo chaotic colorful anarchy.

They're similar enough that if everyone in the shack takes a random guess at what it is Bill wants, Mabel's guess is usually closest to the mark—and because of that, he gravitates more toward her, which gives her more practice making sense of him, which quickly turns her into the household Bill expert.

Add to that, when Bill's not being creepy, Mabel's the most willing to help him with not-bad not-evil things. And as the local arts & crafts specialist she's the most qualified to help with his acute self-image issues. It sounds fun!!!

Bill won't talk about (or acknowledge) his feelings unless he's hit an explosive boil-over point; but inwardly, privately, he's raw and lonely and desperately grateful for someone who's on the same wavelength as him and who's willing, in a tiny way, to help fix his body.

He's also too alien to recognize (or care) that Mabel's efforts are straight up ridiculous.

For all their unexpected and frightening similarities, the main difference between Bill and Mabel is that Mabel's idea of a good time ends when real harm to other people begins—but that only applies when she notices the harm. Bill only half comprehends that she has limits at all, and when he does understand, he assumes her limits are like his: they're driven by fear of external consequences rather than an internal moral compass.

He thinks with enough time he could free her from those fears. She doesn't mind recklessly shooting a fireworks rocket if she doesn't notice the broken bones and bloody noses it leaves behind; so the next step is to teach her to notice them without fearing she'll get in trouble for it; and from there he'll teach her to enjoy the bones snapping as much as she enjoys the rocket exploding, just like he does. She's got a whole world of bright, colorful, sparkly mayhem to enjoy once she stops worrying about the consequences!

But until he can teach her to appreciate a cherry bomb, he can deign to appreciate a glitter bomb. They're both overstimulatory assaults on the senses, and that's great.

Mabel, meanwhile, is convinced she's well on the way to reforming Bill into a Fun Big Sister/Brother.

(Starting from this post, I'm gonna put all my human Bill AU posts under the tag #bill goldilocks cipher. Easy to remember—but you can bet nobody else is using that tag.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #human bill design #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #bill goldilocks cipher #(I wanted to hold out on starting to use this tag until y'all got to see where it came from)#fanart #my art

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klkirbles · 4 months

Text

assigning crocs to the BG3 origins/companions

astarion: christian cowan x crocs he'd never fucking wear crocs and i think he would kill me in any attempt to ask but if i am going to force them onto his feet they may as well be designer. he would look good in these imo!

lae'zel: roa x crocs these crocs are designed specifically for hiking. not only does bae'zel favour function over fashion, but these crocs also kinda look like her LMFAO. she would kill soooo many enemies wearing these in sports mode.

gale: lisa frank x crocs so full of whimsy! this is only half a joke. i genuinely think he'd enjoy how silly these look. maybe not advertise it, but definitely enjoy how comfy they are and hide them under his desk as he works. also i can't really think of lisa frank without thinking about those existential memes so like sorry the funloving nihilism is very gale.

shadowheart: christopher kane x crocs i just feel like shadowheart would be one of those spiritual girlies who collects rocks. she would look cute in these. it's so easy to lean into the more goth/emo look but i think these would suit her.

wyll: MCM x crocs my boy wyll is constantly on his feet, travelling all over the sword coast to save lives. he needs something simple yet practical, but also he deserves to look stylish too.

karlach: sweethearts x crocs you thought i was gonna go with something badass huh? something with flames? well too bad. karlach has such a big heart and so much love to give! i think she deserves the cutesy fluffy crocs. hopefully they don't singe too bad.

the dark urge: little big x crocs spooky white dragonborn rocks up to the bhaal temple drenched in blood and also wearing these. idk it just works.

minthara: disney's haunted mansion x crocs i'm biased because i own these and they slay. i think she would like the purple/teal colour scheme and the spooky wallpaper pattern. also: glow in the dark jibbits! underdark reference.

halsin: shrek x crocs just as the oak father intended.

bonus withers: pleasures x crocs

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my posts

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justanotheroutlastfanblog · 10 months

Text

The Outlast College AU: the cast

Eddie Gluskin:

Eddie Gluskin (also known as "Ed" or "the groom" in a mocking way) is a failed pre-med student who switched over to fashion design and merchandising and is known for his "retro" style of dress along with his misogynistic behavior. He is a social outcast due to how he acts so despite his good looks and "charming" personality, he seldom ever gets dates or even respect from his other peers (functionally making him an incel). He is "friends" with Frank (although this is mostly just because Frank also happens to live with him) and that is really about it. And despite his bizarre standards for women and beliefs surrounding sexuality: he is dating Val who is the polar opposite of all of what he holds dear.

Frank Manera:

Frank Manera is Eddie's weed-smoking, whisky-drinking, grunge music-loving culinary school dropout roommate. Unlike Eddie, he is a social outcast by choice and actively chooses not to socially engage with other people or things. Frank is probably the most easy-going person you might meet partly due to the fact he is high all the time but also due to his "I really do not give a shit" attitude he has about practically everything. If it is not about his pickup truck, guns, food, weed, or the bands he likes he could care less. Frank is also occasionally seen at Crust-punk bars and other hole-in-the-wall places around MMU despite not being a student.

Val:

Val is a former member of the hyper-religious cult Temple Gate who once held the role of being the "mother" of all of the bastard children of its leader, Knoth, along with the orphans. She was unable to biologically produce children (functionally be a broodmare) so she took on the role of raising them instead. Val escaped the cult when she was 17 and attempted to bring others with her but was unable to. After her escape, she began to hyper-indulge in sex, drugs, body mods, and all of the other things she was never allowed to even talk about while living on the commune. She never got an education and instead opted to continue partying while also taking a job at a Spencers near MMU. She is dating Eddie Gluskin for reasons not fully understood. And despite her new life of freedom and indulgence, she is still on the run from the cult who does periodically attempt to drag her back. She still misses some members of the cult, specifically the children she cared for and wanted to take with her, but also deeply fears being dragged back too much to do anything.

Miles Upshur:

Miles is a journalism student at MMU who also works at the Spencers with Val. He is yet another stoner similar to the likes of Frank only with a significantly more conspiratorial slant. He is best friends with Waylon Park and frequently pulls him into his strange schemes and ventures (like when he goes ghost hunting in abandoned asylums or attempts to prove aliens exist). And much to his friend's horror: he overall lacks a sense of self-preservation and self-control which frequently results in him getting into a lot of dangerous situations.

Waylon Park:

Waylon Park is a computer science major at MMU and the unwitting best friend/accomplice of Miles. He is a lot more timid than his best friend and spends most of his time locked in his apartment streaming video games or working on various coding projects and actively avoids danger/confrontation. He is dating Lisa, a literature major, and is in a pretty steady relationship with her. Due to his more ambiguous appearance, he was mistaken for a woman and thus pursued by Eddie but that was quickly shut down when the truth was revealed and a restraining order was filed.

Rick Trager:

Rick Trager is an extremely shifty business professor teaching at MMU who may or may not be addicted to cocaine. The only reason he has not been fired is due to his tenure at the university.

Jermey Blaire:

Trager's equally as shifty/douchy TA who practically models himself after Patrick bateman.

Chris Walker:

Chris Walker is a former combat veteran going back to school after his time in the service. His exact major is unclear as it has changed several times. But due to his emence size and overall strength he is also a coveted member of the MMU football team. Chris does not have a particularly close relationship with anybody and only happens to know Miles because he had a class with him once (and in turn grew to dislike him as he came off extremely annoying).

Blake Langermann:

Blake is a fellow jornalisim major along with Miles and is a catholic school survivee. Blake is only mildly acquainted with the likes of Miles and Waylon and instead focuses a majority of his time on working on projects with his girlfriend Lynn who is also a journalism major. These projects are usually Exposes regarding local controversies or drama going on (along with the periodic serious human rights/civil rights violation). However, he will join Waylon and Miles on their bullshit adventures from time to time.

Father Martin:

He is the weird guy standing outside of MMU with a large sign only instead of telling people they are going to hell, he warns of the end times and weird ghost demons coming but it is unclear if he is for or against them.

Sullivan Knoth:

Is the leader of the Cult Val escaped from and one of the main antagonists in Val's life. He is functionally the same compared to how he is in the game minus the radio tower frequencies: he is just crazy naturally.

Marta:

Is funtionally the "Sister Cindy" of MMU. She, unlike Father Martin, does accuse all of the students of being whores and tells them they will burn in hell if they don't repent (and do so to Knoth's teachings). She is also the closest immediate threat to Val's freedom and safety outside of the cult given she is still actively looking for her (dubbing her "the Heretic").

Ethan:

The only person from the cult Val is still somewhat in contact with. He is too attempting to escape given his fading faith had the fact Knoth sexually assaulted his daughter and is denying his wife the ability to get cancer treatments as "only god can decide if she lives". He tried to leave with Val initially but had to stay behind in order to at least allow Val to escape and to protect his family.

Billy Hope:

Billy is a highschooler who has functionally adopted by the MMU football team and is "enrolled" at the school a year early so he can play football. His mother, Tiffany, more or less signed off on it due to the hefty sum of money she was offered to allow her son to play.

"The Twins":

Really creepy townies everybody avoids and can usually be spotted with Martin

Pauline Glick:

The asshole president of MMU who may or may not be taking bribes and doing a bunch of illegal shit along with Blaire and Trager

"Mother Gooseberry (Phyllis Futterman)":

Is a washed-up former children's TV host who later became an art teacher at MMU. She teaches several of the more "technical" arts classes such as sewing and technical drawing. However, she also teaches dental classes at MMU although not that many. It is unclear when or if she even got a degree in dental medicine. But given she is only teaching more "anatomy" based lessons and is not actually practicing medicine: it is looked over by MMU administration.

Leland Coyle:

The campus cop who is activly on a power trip, all of the time.

"The Pusher":

The guy who sells literally everybody drugs. Weed, coke, you name it, he has it.

#outlast #eddie gluskin #val #val outlast #frank manera #rick trager #jeremy blaire #waylon park #miles upshur #marta #sullivant knoth #chris walker #blake langermann #outlast college au #outlast au #college au outlast #mother gooseberry #leland coyle

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walkawaytall · 5 months

Text

bring back the turkey, you cowards

Weird thing none of you know about me: from about 2015(?) until about 2019 or so, I had a very specific and weird obsession: Lisa Frank's social media presence (and, to a lesser degree, Lisa Frank's collaboration deals clearly made in an attempt at making a comeback).

Now, I will go ahead and correct a commonly held misconception amongst the people who followed me on Facebook at the time: I was not obsessed with Lisa Frank the person (as mysterious as she attempts to be, I think I have her mostly figured out), Lisa Frank the manufacturer of my favorite childhood school supplies, or even Lisa Frank the company as it stands today (though this Jezebel article, Inside the Rainbow Gulag: The Technicolor Rise and Fall of Lisa Frank, is wild and I think everyone should read it; it may not hold true today since they've had so much change and turnover, but it's still fascinating). My obsession was primarily focused on Lisa Frank's social media presence. And that's because Lisa Frank's social media presence was batshit insane.

Keep in mind, when I first started following them on social media, they were not banking on Millennial nostalgia. They were still primarily selling school supplies. The adult coloring book (not adult like smutty; adult like...those therapy coloring books that were so popular ten years ago?) sold by way of an exclusivity agreement with Dollar General hadn't been announced yet, nor had workout gear or the SpongeBob collab (sold only at HotTopic). As far as anyone knew, Lisa Frank was still that rainbow school supply company whose target audience is nine-year-old girls.

Which is why all of the housemade "memes" were absolutely bonkers.

This is peak Middle-Aged Mom Humor, so why is it being presented to me by the company making pencils and folders for elementary schoolers?

Glad to know we are encouraging fourth graders to day drink.

This one isn't actually aimed at any particular age group; I just find it funny that captains of pirate ships are inherently pirates, so I don't know what this is supposed to mean.

He won't. He will not fly. He is a flightless bird. This is a terrible lesson and you are a homicidal mother penguin. (Also using slightly altered lines from poems without attribution is theft, but whatever.)

And the image that started my obsession:

This...isn't a joke??? What is this???

I don't know who was behind these posts, but considering how small the company was at that point, I always suspected that Lisa herself was recycling old artwork with the help of an intern or something and creating the social media posts...because it just sort of seemed like that's what was happening? I have no proof of this; it was just a vibe I got.

But, during that period of time, even though the posts were inscrutable and sometime just straight-up Minion Humor, they were at least interesting.

Well, I mean, sometimes they were interesting because they were like acid to the eyes.

Okay, and sometimes they were interesting but also sported questionable messaging about one's relationship with food and exercise.

Anyway, I digress. In 2019, Lisa's son Forrest Green (yes, her sons are named Hunter and Forrest Green) took over the social media presence and it became...very palatable for the masses, I suppose. It was a lot of photo edits of old boy band pictures with Lisa Frank designs superimposed on tshirts -- it was very nostalgia-driven and very much directed at Millennials and thus I lost interest, because if there's anything I hate, it's being the target demographic for a sales pitch.

Anyway, my point is that for several years in a row, Lisa Frank would post the same holiday-themed images, so I got used to seeing a certain Thanksgiving design that is, and I cannot prepare you enough, one of the most chaotic and hideous things you'll ever lay your eyes on. But it was tradition. They posted it like three years in a row, and then as soon as Forrest took over, this design was never posted again. And all I have to say on this Thanksgiving week of 2023 is: bring back the turkey, you cowards.

#it me #lisa frank #thanksgiving #i'm about to go save a bunch of images from the lisa frank facebook page because i think forrest forgot that these existed #and i don't want them to become lost media #there are so many more #they're all bonkers #and i love them #long post

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descaladumidera · 1 year

Text

the tattoo AU nobody asked for

Frank is divorced (amicable, he and Maria co-parent well) and works as a tattoo artist. Matt is still a lawyer.

One night Matt and Foggy get drunk at Josie's and decide it would be a very good idea for Matt to get a tattoo. So they end up at Frank's, because it's kinda close to Josie's and he works weird hours (more of a night owl). Just. Frank refuses to tattoo drunk folks, 'cause they can't really consent.

"Come back when yer sober," Frank grunts. "If ya still want it by then, I'll do it. But not while yer drunk off yer ass."

And then he kicks them out.

The weird thing is that Matt decides to come back. But he doesn't want the stupid tattoo anymore that he decided on when drunk (doesn't exactly know what it looks like anyway and doesn't trust drunk!Foggy to having it described too well). Instead he asks Frank to design something for him.

The first one Frank designs is a tribute to Matt's dad. But now Matt wants more.

ID in alt text and under the cut.

[ID:

A drawing of Frank and Matt in a tattoo studio.

Matt is lying on a cot, belly down, chin resting on his crossed arms. He has discarded his top and is only wearing dark brown sweatpants and his red glasses. Some scars are visible as well as a tattoo on his shoulder/biceps, which shows two boxing gloves and the name "Battlin' Jack Murdock".

Frank is sitting behind Matt, wearing a black shirt. He is smiling while holding a tattoo gun in one hand and a piece of cloth in the other, ready to tattoo Matt's back. He has some tattoos himself—Lisa's heartbeat and her name on the inside of his right wrist and a sleeve of roses on his left arm. There's also the Punisher skull on his left arm, but it is partially hidden by his shirt.

In the background is a shelf full of tattoo ink and three framed pictures. The pictures show tattoo designs, but are references to other vigilantes—the Punisher skull, the Iron Fist dragon, and the Spider-Man spider symbol.

End ID.]

#Matt Murdock #Frank Castle #Fratt #FrankMatt #MattFrank #Daredevil #Punisher #Marvel #NMCU #MCU #Comic #fanart #Desca draws

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chaifootsteps · 5 months

Note

Anon roll call? I’ve never tagged myself with a name but I’ve sent quite a few anons to ramble about character design and story structure and the like!

Guess you can call me feather anon or 🪶! I’m in my early twenties and first discovered Viv through her Die Young video. I loosely followed her after that, I really liked watching her speed paints and I’d watch some of the other short animations she’d post. I really enjoyed her art style for how expressive and colorful it was- I know we all like to poke fun at the whole “sparkle dog design” thing but I think if Viv continued to strive for improvement then her art really could have been something fun, colorful, and eye catching! My brain always connected it to those Lisa Frank books and stickers-

I’m an artist and a writer, though it’s hard to find the time to engage with them as much as I want to. I love storytelling and analyzing media- I think it’s fun to critique things and it helps me develop my own skills as a storyteller. I like to try and find the positives in media and focus on the things I like, but it is fun (and healthy!) to be a little hater sometimes.

I really did enjoy the concept of Hazbin Hotel presented by the pilot- it was clearly a labor of love- and I really did enjoy the first season of Helluva before Viv decided to start retconning and dropping all the previous set up that drew people to the show in the first place.

I have my own stories I would love to develop sometime in the future- likely through webcomics or just plain writing. I love fantasy and dnd-type settings. I am obsessed with horror and gore- body horror is right up my alley and I love creature features and monsters! I am a monster lover to my soul <3 very aroace but I would romance a dragon if given the chance!!

Don’t think there much beyond that. I haven’t left a lot of the fandoms I’ve been in since I was a kid: MLP, FNAF, HTTYD, Pokemon, LOZ, etc etc. But I also love shows like Bojack Horseman and The Thing (1982) is easily one of my favorite movies. I’ll try to sign my asks off after this but no guarantees I’ll remember! I’m a very wordy person so it might be obvious who I am lol

🪶

High five for dragon romancers! Also, in an eerie coincidence, Lisa Frank was a raging asshole too.

#Anonymous #feather anon #anon roll call #vivziepop mention #actual blog post

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hasbhimadoneanythingwrong · 8 months

Text

At long last, proper saint graphs for my fanservant, Lewis Carroll!

Part way through development I settled on him being an Alter-Ego class. More details (and design notes) under the cut

"In order to embrace madness, you must understand the rules that confine them." One of the greatest mathematicians in Victorian-era England, creator behind the Word Ladder puzzle and the cipher language of Nyctography and the affiliated Nyctograph. Surely, these would be enough... ...But, around the world, these accomplishments pale to comparison to the name he is best known under, the man behind The Jabberwocky, The Hunting of the Snark, and most importantly, Alice's adventures in Wonderland and through the looking glass."

Still working on skills (Something like "Mathematics A+" would probably be his first skill) but the general gist is as a penname, the Stage 3 reflects Lewis Carroll (as a penname and the general vibe attributed to his works), whereas Stage 1 is more reflective of the man behind the pen name, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. Stage 2 is sort of a mid point, before the penname was created but was thinking about it (hence the Victorian Era summer swear and the oar, as the Alice stories were originally told while rowing down a river). In Fate-verse, the pen name of Lewis Carroll was coined in order to publish nonsense literature more safely, and not ruin the innocence and imagination of any children should Charles end up falling from grace somehow.

Yet, we all know the name Lewis Carroll, but far less know of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. An Alter-Ego with some memories of who he once was, but mostly recalls the poetry and stories the pen name was attributed to.

Design Notes

Stage 1: Meant to be 50-60 years old, and the greyscale is reflective of the original Alice book illustrations. His cane depicts a Dodo, as the character of The Dodo from the Alice books is said to be a self insert. Fun fact, his lineart was done by hand with a dip pen and the equally British Winsor and Newton ink. I thought about coloring him via doing washes of ink but was too scared to mess up my lines :X

Stage 2: 30-40 years old, starts getting some brighter colors but still has some grey. Based on color animated adaptations of the Alice books, notably the 1951 Walt Disney one, colors reflective of the titular character. Background is based on backgrounds from the film as well as the works of concept artist Mary Blair.

Stage 3: 20-30 years old, made to emphasize vector smoothing seen in digital art, as well as how the Alice media is remixed and re imagined frequently. Proportions are largely based on Japanese artwork with a Rubberhose-like proportions and thick lines that taper, seen in works like Kaiba and Super Milk Chan (and. Other Works. ifykyk). Colors based on the works of Lisa Frank, and doesn't use any greys, blacks, or whites (outside of lineart and a single eyeshine).

#arty party

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maddieautobot273 · 11 months

Text

Silk & Cologne (6)

A Miguel O’Hara x OC series - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 6 - Lecture

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Female OC

Words: 2.6K+ words

Warnings: PG - mentions of scares and implied injuries and some violence.

Summary: Lisa’s first day of training doesn’t quite go according to plan.

///////

“You mind letting me in? It’s a bit chilly out here,” Miguel muttered softly as he gave me a weird look after my stutter.

“Oh, uh, sure,” I chuckled nervously as I stood to the side, inviting him in.

“Gracias,” he responded plainly as he stepped inside. - Thank you

He was so tall he could literally reach up and touch the ceiling with his fingers. He towered over me as I closed the sliding door, shutting out the cool air before I shuffled passed him.

“Not to be frank, but I was expecting Gwen?” I raised a brow as I began to clean up my mess.

“Gwen was asked to assist Jessica for a mission, so I volunteered to pick you up in her place,” Miguel explained as he stepped further into the room, looking around. He glanced over, watching as I stuffed all the comic books in a bag and slammed it on the desk.

I huffed, catching my breath as I walked over to my dresser drawer and grabbed a change of clothes. “I’ll just change quickly and we’ll go,”

“Take your time,” Miguel nodded firmly, hands on his hips. He watched me step into the bathroom and lock the door before pressing a button on his watch. “Lyla, scan the area,”

“Yep, yep!” Lyla piped up as she materialized a few tiny drones for Miguel as they began to hover around the room.

“Wait, scanning? Is everything okay?” I called from the bathroom.

I began to strip down yesterday's clothes, tossing them aside.

“Just scanning and making sure nothing is out of the ordinary. I wouldn’t want another anomaly slipping through to your universe,” Miguel explained.

“Uh huh,” I was half paying attention to him as I was focused on getting my top off, and once my bare stomach and sports bra were in view as I looked at myself in the mirror, my hands couldn’t help but wander down to faint scaring along my stomach.

I just have zoned out for a second longer than I should have. I heard Miguel’s voice through the doorway. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, yes!” I quickly snapped back into reality as I rushed to finish getting ready. “Um, what’s an anomaly exactly? Something that’s from another universe?”

“Like the Spider that bit you and the guards, yes,” Miguel nodded as he walked closer towards the desk. One of the comics caught his eye as he gently pulled it out to get a closer look. Realizing it was a comic of him, his cheeks flushed faintly, scoffing at it before shoving it back in the bag. “Among other things,”

The bathroom door unlocked as I stepped back into my hotel room, wearing a black tank top with a red zip up sweater over top and black cargo pants. “Like what?”

Miguel seems to stare at me for a few solid seconds, as if debating to tell me more. “That’s. . .” He hesitated briefly before shaking it off. “Not important for right now.”

I got the feeling that it was a touchy subject for him so I didn’t want to press it any more than he wanted to talk about. He could be intentionally taking things slowly for me, not wanting me to feel overwhelmed about everything. In just over 24 hours I discovered the existence of other dimensions and in said dimensions, superheroes, Spider-Man especially, are actually real.

I’m feeling fantastic!

“Before I forget,” Miguel reached behind him and pulled something out from his pocket. “Your Gizmo is ready,”

My eyes lit up at the proclamation as I extended my hand out to take it. He handed it to me and when I pulled back and took a closer look at it, I twitched, my head tilted to the side as I stared at it.

“This looks like a SmartWatch?” I looked up at him.

“The Gizmo is designed uniquely for all their holders to represent their dimension and its likeness. So when Lyla and Margo did their research and constructed the watch, this was the result. Do you not like it?”

The Gizmo was designed to look exactly like a Sony SmartWatch. If it wasn’t for the Society touch screen interface, I would have mistaken it completely with an actual smart device from my dimension.

“No, I like it!” I reassured him with an eager nod as I slipped it on to my wrist before my voice lowered to a whisper, “Or cause Spider-Man is owned by Sony?”

“I’m sorry?” Miguel spoke up.

“Nothing!” I responded quickly, hands behind my back.

We just stared at each other with these dumbfounded expressions on our face before Miguel shook his head with a sigh. “You’re certainly an interesting one, Lisa,”

I raised a brow at the man as I grabbed my duffel bag and reached for my notebook. “Alright then,”

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing at it.

“This?” I paused, showing it off. “I just took some notes last night to help me prepare for my training,”

“Notes? Anything involving those?” Miguel raised a brow at me as he pointed back towards the pile of comic books on my desk.

I scrunched my neck between my shoulders as I hesitated to answer the question, “. . . Maybe?”

He gave me a look that said ‘I didn’t believe you’ before motioning his hand towards me, gesturing that I hand it over. Like a kid caught cheating on a test, I handed it to him and watched with bated breath as he rummaged through my notes. He seemed to idle more on certain pages than others.

The drones Lyla summoned chimed, a green light pulsing in their optics before they disappeared. “Scans are good! No anomalies in sight, boss,”

When he heard that, he slapped the book shut with one hand before tossing it back to me. “Alright, I’ve seen enough,”

I juggled the book in my hand before catching it as Miguel activated a portal behind us. Shoving the notebook in my bag, I slipped the shoulder strap of my bag on as Miguel motioned to follow me through the portal. I could tell by the look on his face that he felt training me was going to be hard.

///////

I knew the expression on his face wasn’t lying to me. If he thought training me was hard, training under him was even harder.

We didn’t even stop to say hi to Margo or Lyla upon stepping through the other side of the portal. Miguel told me to keep following him through the halls of the Society until we arrived at the training center.

For the last two hours, he had me undergo strict training regimens. Running laps, push ups, sit ups. I swear it felt like I was back in my fitness class at College. But the worst of it all, which was the one I appeared to be excelling in the most, was the rock climbing wall.

The reason Miguel wanted me to go through all of this was to help build up my body muscles and stamina, so once my powers completely kick in, I won’t feel like an absolute mess. Well, jokes on him, because my body feels like an absolute mess right now and on the verge of collapsing.

He walked me through the course with a harness first before roping me into climbing it again without one. It got me the feeling that he was using fear to try and trigger my powers.

“You’re slowing down,” Miguel commented with an annoyed look in his eyes.

“Am not,” I retaliated with a heavy sigh as I reached for another handle. “Just catching my breath is all,”

“When it comes to being Spider, villains won’t give you a chance to catch your breath,” Miguel lectured as he shook his head.

As I continued to steadily climb, I caught the noise of a web sling as suddenly a blob of web fluid stuck to the next handle I was reaching for. I yelped, my hand recoiling back as I started to lose my balance. My arm waved frantically before I reached out and grabbed a different handle and caught myself from falling.

I glared down at Miguel and I just barely saw a smug little look on his face. “You did not just do that,”

“Do what?” He raised a brow, winking at me as he didn’t bother trying to hide a spare web shooter he had on hand.

GOD, why does his face have to look so good while he looks at me like that?

I scoffed at him, rolling my eyes. “You are so smug,”

I carefully continued my climb and as I reached for another handle, another web blast covered it and I recoiled, only this time both of my hands drew back as I found myself falling. I screamed as I reached out and tried to grab onto a handle before my hands and feet slapped onto the wall and I found myself skidding to a halt.

I breathed in heavily as I realized my hands and feet stuck on to the wall. I peered closely at one of my hands to see tiny little spider pricks on my fingers. “Hey! I’m actually doing it!”

As soon as I reached over to try and climb on my own, the emotion of fear melted away. Along with the ability to stay stuck to the wall. Both my hands and feet slipped as I screamed and I fell straight down to the floor, my back slamming into the gym matt below the climbing wall.

“Ow,” I groaned.

“You’re not focused enough,” Miguel scoffed as he looked down at me, hands on his hips. “Being Spider-Man isn’t about memorizing or predicting your abilities,” He knelt down beside me, giving me a hard stare.

“What? Are they not accurate enough?” I teased tiredly.

He shook his head at me, eyes narrowed. “It’s not so much as what’s up there,” he flicked a finger at my forehead before tapping my chest over where my heart is. “It’s about what you feel in there,”

He stood back up, offering me his hand.

“Again,” He commanded.

I breathed deeply before I reached out and gripped his strong hand as he hoisted me up from the floor with such ease, I almost got dizzy as I regained my footing.

Hands on my knees, I looked up at him. “Can’t I just take a break for 5 minutes? At least so I can get some water?”

“We’ll take a break when I say we’re taking a break,” He stated firmly as he turned his back to me. “Only when I’m satisfied that you’ve made actual progress, Lisa,”

I could feel the frustration boiling inside of me as my fingers curled into fists as I fixed my posture, walking past him towards the wall. “Smartass,” I muttered.

He whipped his head towards me, a dark look in his eyes. “What was that?”

I stopped moving, standing still as I gave him a side glance. He was really starting to annoy me with his attitude and behavior this morning. “Did you not hear me?”

I felt something snap in my wrist as I whirled around and fired a web sling at Miguel. The web fluid hit his shoulder as he took a step back, gripping it tightly as he pulled it off. I froze, realizing what I had just done.

He locked his gaze towards me. This wasn’t the same power I accidentally unleashed on his face yesterday. This was stronger.

“Again,” He ordered.

With a strong, heavy breath, I latched my hand out, firing a web sling from my wrist. This one felt stronger, more powerful as it launched and stuck right to Miguel’s chest. A proud smile formed on my face until he suddenly grabbed the string and yanked on it, pulling me forward.

I stumbled, my feet tripping on one another. Before I could fall to the floor, Miguel rushed forward and caught me by using his hand to grasp my chin and the top half of my neck. He stared at me for a good long second, his warm breath fanning my skin.

“You hesitated. Spider-Man never hesitates,”

He growled under his breath, staring at me as his brown iris flashes red every so briefly, leaving a mark into my soul before releasing me. I reached out and caught myself from completely collapsing. My body felt incredibly warm, sweating even.

“Fine. 5 minutes then,” he sighed, shaking his head as his hands found their place on his hips.

I glanced up towards Miguel, a wave of guilt washing over me. Sure, I probably shouldn’t have reacted like that. But he was still being a jerk. A huge one.

As I caught my breath, a new set of footsteps caught my ear. As we were training, no other Spider came near us, specifically Miguel. Everyone just let us be as we went through our training. So this newcomer might have had a death wish if he was brave enough to approach us, especially now that I had pissed Miguel off.

A deeper masculine voice whistled a tone from his lips as he stalked towards us. I glanced over to see a Spider character who’s figure appeared black and white wearing street clothes from a punk rock band, a guitar at his back.

“No more pencils, no more books

No more teachers, dirty looks~”

The longer I stared at him, the sooner it hit me in my mind about who he was. Spider-Punk.

“Hobie, not now,” Miguel spoke with a tense tone.

“Easy, boss man, just checking in on the new girl,” Hobie raised his hands in a defensive manner. “You’re not giving her a hard time are you? Wait a minute, of course you are,”

I stood up slowly from the mat as I took in Hobie’s appearance. He had such a swagger to him that made me act older, but I could feel by his expressions and the look in his eyes that he was a teenager, or closer to a young adult. Maybe 17?

“He’s just a little . . strict with his teachings, that’s all,” I spoke softly.

I could tell Miguel was glancing over at me. I didn’t see his gaze this time.

“He is right about one thing though, I’ll give credit where credit is due,” Hobie smirked. “Being Spider-Man is about what’s in your heart. We all are different and unique. I get the feeling this hard core muscle training might not be for you, Lisa,”

“You know my name?” I asked him, surprised.

“Who doesn’t? You’re the chick from Earth-1218,” Hobie laughed as he playfully stalked around me, “Everyone has been talking about you. I’m surprised you’re gussying up to this big fella of all people,”

I could feel the words sting as he spoke. This one was a troublemaker, but he was honest.

Miguel stepped forward, “What, you saying I can’t teach her?” He glared at Hobie.

“Miguel–!” I looked between the pair, reaching out.

“All I’m saying is this might not be the way to go training her,” Hobie responded. “Look at her, she’s gonna pass out at any minute now cause you won’t cut her some slack,”

“Hobie, it’s okay, really, it’s just–” I looked over towards Hobie.

“He gave you the whole fate of the multiverse lecture too, didn’t he?” Spider-Punk gave me a knowing smile.

Yes. Yes he did.

“Well then,” Miguel sighed as he rose a hand to his forehead, pinching the skin there as he muttered something in Spanish that I couldn’t decipher before glancing over at us. “If you think you’d do such a good job, you can train her today,”

I watched with a shocked look on my face as Miguel turned his back to us, stomping away. I called out to him, but Miguel didn’t even so much as offer me a side glance as he exited the training room, all eyes trained on him. When he was gone, the rest of the Spider’s resumed their training.

“Now that Mr. Big Shot is getting some air, come on,” Hobie motioned for me to follow him. “Food’s on me,”

///////

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