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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

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shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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blooming-violets · 1 month

Note

Nicest Thing Peter x Reader for 11. In joy? I really like that fic. I reblogged it on my old account. I feel like thats an underrated fic of yours (maybe bc it came out in 2022? Idk). Would love to see what happened to them!

It's still one my favs because it is just so...me?? Like if I had to chose anything that represented my personality perfectly, it would be Nicest Thing. Just a depressed, sad bitch who loves angst and Peter Parker and enjoys Kate Nash. I feel like I need another Kate Nash song for this "sequel" fic. I'll base it off her song Trash because these two are trash for each other.

You can read this as a separate, on its own Peter x Reader thing if you'd like or you can read it as a future piece to Nicest Thing.

Warnings: Smoking a joint and getting stoned

If porn bots can over take all the tags then I better not get flagged for these gifs.

Peter looked at her through blazed out, squinting eyes. A haze of smoke filled their bathroom as they passed the joint back and forth between them. They were seated in the unfilled tub, fully clothed, and facing each other. She had made him take the spot next to the faucet under the claims that sitting over the drain made her feel “icky” like she might get sucked in. He didn’t mind. Even if their leaky faucet kept dripping cold water over his shoulder.

“Do you remember the Rugrats episode when Tommy and Chuckie are afraid of getting sucked down the bathtub drain because Angelica tells them a story of some other baby who died that way?” He asked, handing her off the joint.

She placed it between her lips and he watched with a slow blinking, admiration for her. He loved her. She had been with him through everything. He owed his entire life to her. Without her in his life, he would no longer be here. She was everything important in the world.

She smiled, remembering, and let out the most beautiful laugh. She always got extra giggly when they smoked. It was one of his favorite sounds.

“Don’t they fill the drain with play-doh and shit? It’s a weird reddish, pink color. Why do I remember that specific color so much?” She replied, mystified.

Peter chuckled, “Because old school Rugrats was filled with some crazy ass imagery. It sticks in your mind.”

“Yeah but I remember thinking that I specifically wanted to eat that color...like maybe it would taste nice…like the imaginary food from Hook.” She passed it back to him, letting the smoke exhale in a little, circular puffs from between her lips.

“Do you want to get into a pretend food fight with me and see if anything appears?” He grinned.

Her red rimmed eyes squinted back at him as she laughed, “With the way these munchies have been hitting me the past few minutes, I think it might actually happen. I could imagine food hard enough to make it show up.”

His mind started to wander as a hungry smile spread across his face, imagining all the food he could eat, and he spoke with a dreamy whisper, “Pizza bagels.”

“What?”

“Let’s make pizza bagels. ‘M hungry. Starvin’. Gonna die if I don’t get some food in me.”

Her eyes glowed with excitement at the idea, “Pizza bagels. Yes, you’re a genius!”

“I know,” he giggled, it bubbled out of him without any self control. It wasn’t the weed that did it. It was her. He felt free when he was with her. He flicked out the joint against the ashtray balancing on the edge of the tub. “I really am. Smartest man alive, probably.”

She snorted, “Okay, I wouldn’t go that far. Get your ego in check, Parker, before I have to slap some sense back into you.”

He beamed at her, his love consumed him, feeling it outshine every other emotion rattling around inside of him. She was beautiful. Stunning. Picture perfect. He wanted to hang her up on his wall like an expensive piece of art so he could admire every day of his life.

Her shoulders shrunk up to her ears under the intensity of his gaze.

“Stop that,” she whispered. “Don’t look at me with those eyes or I’ll kick you. I’ve got a perfect aim for your crotch in this position.”

Peter shook his head, “Nope, sorry, I refuse. I can’t help it. You look…perfect. The nicest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“You’re stoned.”

“Yes. Doesn’t change the fact that your lips look very enticing.” He winked at her and tried to scoot forward to get a taste.

Her socked foot landed against his chest, pushing him back in place, “I thought we were making pizza bagels, not kissing. Weren’t you just starving a minute ago?”

“Starving for you, maybe.”

“Peter!” She let out a loud laugh, keeping him at bay with her outstretched leg.

He was so in love. Completely enamored. Whipped. Head over heels. Trash for her. Whatever he wanted to call it. He belonged to her so wholly. His bleeding heart was in her hand for the rest of his life. He would follow her to the ends of the earth and back again.

“If you don’t let me kiss you right this very second, I am going to turn this shower on.” His hand reached over his shoulder to grip onto the shower knob with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

She gave a sharp inhale, “You wouldn’t dare.”

His eyebrows raised, taking on that challenge, “Oh really?”

She knew she fucked up the second before the shower burst to life. From his position in the tub, it shot over his head to spray directly into her face. She shrieked and fell back, sliding down the sloped edge of the tub until she was nearly on her back.

It was all the opportunity he needed to pounce. He leapt on top of her to the sound of her laughter and blocked the shower stream from her face with his back. His arms wrapped protectively around her head as he laid over her. Water pooled around them, warming their bodies, and soaking through their clothes.

They didn’t feel it.

All he could feel was the devoted love burning a hole in his chest where his heart used to be.

She giggled up at him, blinking water droplets from her eyes, and whispered, “You’re an ass.”

He laughed in response and crashed his lips over hers, mumbling against them, “You love me.”

She sighed in content. Her arms snaked around his neck to draw him closer, melting happily into his kiss.

“I do.”

#i will take every opportunity to stick this man in a tub or shower #andrew garfield #tasm #tasm x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm fic #tasm peter fic #tasm peter parker fic

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year

Note

batfam x male child reader who likes collecting buttons and random things but also likes stealing random weapons bc they look cool like steals knives from damien and has gotten his hands on jason’s funda few times

Thanks for the idea anon! Sorry this took a while and I may have taken it to another direction, so I still hope you like this.

Summary: (Y/N) is a magnet for weapons. Especially if they are the property of his older brothers.

Warnings: Weapons, (Y/N) always getting his hands on weapons, Bruce being stressed and tired.

Bruce didn't notice that (Y/N) had a liking towards weapons until the boy was 3. As any baby, he would want shiny and colorful things. It was only natural for babies. The boys knew that and always made sure to have something colorful on hand to entertain the boy.

But when he reached 3, he would seem to like weapons. Especially if it was from his brother's. (Y/N) would find a way to weapons, one way or another. The boys were sometimes careless and left weapons laying around, which scared the living lights out of Bruce more than one time.

Jason has even said that once (Y/N) grows up, he will be the most annoying Robin ever. And it's not like Bruce has started training him a little. Just in case something happens.

So, as fate would have, he was not gifted by a normal child, that likes baseball or some other sport or that likes something related to art. He got a kid that adores weapons. Almost a Damian 2.0.

Alfred would say he would grow out of it, he is just imitating his older brothers, but Bruce wasn't so sure. He really wasn't. So, to avoid such situations, Bruce told the boys to keep their weapons under lock and key. That was directed to Damian and Jason.

Now, the boy is 5 and... Bruce is even more stressed. (Y/N) is a magnet for weapons and he didn't start liking anything else. Bruce has tried. Baseball, drawing, collecting stamps, reading... But no... He has a 5th child who was in love with weapons.

So, the stress was now tripled.

Bruce got home from work, ready to go to bed and take a nap. He knew that (Y/N) would also like a nap, so he went to look for him. What he heard instead, made him regret coming home.

" (Y/N), give me back my knife! " Damian's voice rang out and it made him sigh. Not again.

He got ready as the footsteps got closer and closer. And once he saw (H/C) hair, he swooped him up, being careful of the knife.

" Papa! " (Y/N) exclaimed in surprise.

" (Y/N), what did we say about taking Damian's weapons? Especially his knifes? " Bruce asked, taking the knife and handing it back to Damian.

" Damian gave it to me. "

Bruce simply hummed and adjusted his youngest in his arms.

" (Y/N)… What did we say about taking blades? "

" That we shouldn't take them, but they are so pretty. Especially Damian's! " (Y/N) exclaimed, waving his arms around.

" I know, but they are also dangerous. "

(Y/N) pouted and simply leaned on Bruce's chest. He was slightly tired from all running around. Especially after stressing and getting Bruce some gray hairs.

" You tired bud? "

" Yes... Can you stay with me dad? "

Bruce smiled at him and nodded. He walked to his bedroom, before gently throwing his son on the bed. (Y/N) let out an oof, before giggling. Bruce quickly went to the bathroom and changed into some more comfortable clothes before snuggling his youngest son.

" Dad? "

" Yes bud? "

" Will I ever have blades? Like Damian and Jason? "

Bruce wanted to say no, you won't be surrounded by weapons, you will enjoy your life without them. And not damage my furniture.

" One day, when you get older. Your brothers will even teach you how to take care of them. "

" Really?! " (Y/N) asked, all excited.

" Yes. But for now, we can go to sleep. You did say that you are tired. "

(Y/N) didn't say anything, simply snuggling into Bruce's chest. Bruce put the covers higher and closed his eyes, making sure that his son was close to him.

Bruce sighed as he overlooked the preparations for the gala. Everything looked like perfect and more importantly, all the blades were... Somewhere safe, far away from (Y/N)'s reach. Not to mention they still had to monitor the young boy, hoping he wouldn't get his hands on any types of weapons. He doesn't want a headline in the news tomorrow.

" Okay guys, keep an eye on (Y/N). We can't have him running around with a blade in his hands. " Bruce said, tired.

Bruce got promises that there was going to be extra supervision over (Y/N). Maybe he will have a gala that won't be a disaster. For once... Bruce shook his head. Something is definitely going to go wrong tonight, something warranting a headline tomorrow.

Why does this always happen to him?

" Are you alright master Bruce? " Alfred asked, carrying the small bundle of joy that gives Bruce new gray hairs everyday.

" I have a feeling that something is going to go wrong Alfred. " Bruce said, opening his arms to take the young boy into his arms.

" Are we talking headline wrong master Bruce? "

" I don't want to say yes, but that's what I'm worried about. "

Bruce glanced down at the youngest, who was pouting.

" What's wrong bud? "

" I don't like this suit dad. "

Bruce adjusted him in his arms and gave him a kiss to the side of the head.

" I think there is an another reason, am I right? " Bruce smiled at his son.

(Y/N) had no access to blades for the whole day and was unhappy and grumpy. Bruce was proud of his boys for making sure that the blades were taken care of. Especially Damian and Jason.

(Y/N) didn't respond, simply looking away. Bruce chuckled at his son's behavior. He is a truly stubborn person.

" Oh don't be sad bud. "

Jason came into the room, wanting to hold (Y/N). Bruce gave him the toddler and Jason turned on his big brother magic.

" Don't be sad. " Jason said leaving the room. He knew Bruce wouldn't like to hear this.

" You know what we can do bud? " Jason asked waiting for the response. He got a shake of the head.

" We can sneak into Damian's room later and take a look at his blades, but, " Jason interrupted the excited child, " You need to be good tonight. No misbehaving. Now, give me a pinky promise. " Jason said, looping their pinkies together.

" Good. "

Now the only thing he needs is to let Damian know about the plan.

Bruce was suspicious of his youngest son. He was far too... Good. He wasn't creating chaos with the help of his brothers, so Bruce was confused and suspicious. He finished up a talk with one of his partners and looked for Jason. He knows Jason has something to do with this. He was the last one to talk with (Y/N) and he is behaving all of a sudden.

He found him at the table with food.

" Hey old man. "

" What did you say to (Y/N)? " Bruce asked, getting right to the point.

" What do you mean? " Jason asked, tilting his head to the right.

" Why is (Y/N) behaving? You are usually helping him with creating chaos around here. "

" I didn't do anything Bruce. " Jason said, leaving a frustrated Bruce behind.

He sighed as he turned to look at his son. He was with Damian and talking to Jon Kent. Speaking of the Kents, he needs to find Clark. Clark is (Y/N)'s favorite uncle and Clark will be able to talk to (Y/N) without making it sound suspicious.

" How's it going Bruce? " Clark asked.

" I don't know. (Y/N) is behaving well and I am suspicious. You need to use your uncle powers and talk to him. "

Clark chuckled at the uncle powers. He knew that (Y/N) loved him a lot.

" I will try to fish something out of him. "

" Thank you Clark. "

Clark got nothing. (Y/N) was either behaving because he wanted to or he was hiding something.

" Nothing Bruce. "

" What? " Bruce asked.

" Yup. He is either behaving well just because he wants to or he is hiding something. Nothing in between. "

" Oh (Y/N), what are you doing to me? "

He glanced at his son, now with Tim and Dick, who guarding him from the reporters who clearly wanted to talk to young boy.

The gala was over, there was no trouble and the boys went up to their rooms. Bruce talked with Clark for a bit, before escorting him out and going upstairs to his own room.

He stopped by Damian's once he heard Jason and some laughing that was far too child like. He opened the door and sighed. (Y/N) was on the carpet in the room, Damian sitting on his bed, looking amused. Jason was next to (Y/N) holding Damian's blades while (Y/N) was hypnotized by them.

" So this is the reason why he was behaving so well. " Bruce said.

(Y/N) didn't even react to Bruce being here.

" Okay, 15 more minutes then he is off to bed and we are off to patrol. Okay? " Bruce asked both of his sons.

They both nodded and Bruce went to the cave. He laughed to himself for a second, relishing in the fact that if (Y/N) wants to become a Robin, he will be the most annoying one.

#bruce wayne x child!male reader #batman x child!male reader #dc comics #dc x male reader #jason todd x male reader

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grapecinnamon · 9 months

Text

Welcome Home headcannons (bc I'm obsessed now)❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🏳️‍🌈♾️

Julie, Sally, and Poppy have an all-girls slumber party every once-in-a-while. Sometimes they invite Wally

Wally and Barnaby have regular sleepovers too, usually in Home. They don't like to leave him out

Frank likes to infodump about butterflies to Wally. It's easy to infodump to him, since he doesn't talk much anyway

Wally can pick up weird bugs off the ground with his own hands because to him, "they're just tiny neighbors who live outside."

Wally's the one everyone goes to whenever they have a problem. Wally doesn't mind listening to them and giving them advise. But sometimes, Wally isn't having the best of days and can't listen to anyone. But he always has Barnaby to go to

Julie's most common stim is flapping her hands

Julie only owns dresses. She doesn't really own pants. She has to borrow from Sally

Sally loves romance novels. She'll usually read them when she's not directing

Wally loves talking about art. He'll mainly ramble on about shapes and perspectives, and the color theory, his most favorite to discuss.

Eddie Dear kisses Frank on the forehead to calm him down whenever he's angry. It always seems to help

Howdy is practicing juggling. you'd think it'd be easier with four arms but... not for Howdy

Barnaby is always trying to get Wally to try new foods, even some Wally doesn't think he'll like. It's not that Barnaby doesn't respect Wally's boundaries, he just wants him to at least try it

The neighbors celebrate Thanksgiving, but they call it something else (Feast Day I suppose?)

Poppy is always nervous for Feast Day because she usually makes desert. Since she's afraid of using kitchen appliances, desert making is usually a two person job, sometimes with Julie and sometimes with Sally

Wally loves Feast Day. He gets to make pumpkin pie for everyone. The problem is that Wally doesn't like stuffing (Julie's usual) cause of all the weird textures. He would still make himself eat it so he wouldn't look rude, even though he would be visibly uncomfortable eating it. Now every Feast Day, Julie makes two stuffing dishes. One for everyone else, and one for Wally, which is a bit more plain. It's currently Wally's favorite Feast Day dish.

Wally ate a flower in Frank's garden one time. It did not go well for either of them.

Julie and Frank like to gossip. Nothing too bad, they just talk about how extra bossy Sally was being or Barnaby telling another bad pun, etc.

Wally likes to put his paintings around the neighborhood, almost as if the buildings are fridges

Julie is afraid of ghosts. Frank usually has to be the one to tell her they're not real. "I bet they don't like to play games," Sally says.

Howdy has all of Wally's food preferences memorized, since Wally never really changes his opinion that much. Plus he likes his hot dogs plain

Eddie Dear and Wally bond over their love of arts and crafts. They sometimes get together and make stuff

Wally is usually the stagehand during Sally's plays. He sometimes plays a role, but he's much more comfortable pulling the curtain or moving the spotlights

Wally actually loves pulling pranks. Barnaby got him into them. Most of the time, Wally's pranks are just misplacing objects where the neighbors didn't leave them (he once hid Sally's script, and Frank's butterfly net). But sometimes he'll feel bad and tell them where their missing object is

Wally and Poppy are very good at sewing. Wally loves making sweaters for everyone when it gets cold. Poppy likes knitting scarves and sometimes crochets little messages (she has a "bless this mess" sign in her home)

Wally has a sensitive stomach and can't eat certain things. There's a correlation between autism and stomach problems, and Wally seems like the type to have them

Whenever they have meetings, they always have them in Home, so Home could also be apart of the discussions

Poppy loves having picnics. It's easier to make sandwiches because in her mind, nothing bad has ever happened to anyone who made a sandwich

Wally loves taking naps. He'll sleep for about an hour during the day everyday. if he doesn't get his nap, he gets so drowsy during the day. If he does this, you'd usually find him sleeping with his head leaning on Barnaby, giving up his long battle of not napping. He was once found facedown in Frank's garden. Frank, of course, was not pleased

that's it. for now. Ik it's a long post, but I'm just so obsessed with Welcome Home. Clown, if you see this, you're a goddamn genius

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home project #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #sally starlet #howdy pillar #eddie dear #frank frankly #poppy partridge #home welcome home #welcome home headcannons #clown illustrations #hyperfixation #welcome home fandom #headcannons #im insane

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evilcowgirl · 8 months

Note

OH MY GOD YOU'RE ALIVE!!!! idek remember my username from when i used to spam u but HI?!?!?!?! i missed you so bad your theme is literally ADORRABLEEEEEEEEEEEE !!

since you said tlou asks are open, could I ask for a drabble w/ ellie? maybe one where the reader comforts her through a panic attack involving joel, or one where her and the reader are snowed in at one of jackson's outposts and end up confessing to eachother? i don't mind which one u pick :333

knuckle velvet ♡

ellie williams/reader

a/n: HI BABE !!!!! I MISSED U 2 THANK U SM :D eeek !! okay okay so i lovee this sm and ill prob. do ur second option soon too bc its soo cute, hope u like this hehe mwah <3

୨♡୧

You still weren't used to this, any of it, and nights like this one reminded you of that fact. The wind caused a whistling sound against the windows that frightened you awake when you were on the verge of sleep. This was nothing compared to the creaking sounds of the old farmhouse that only seemed to happen when you were already paranoid. It helped to have Ellie with you, her presence alone calmed you, made you feel safer. You were safe though, safer than you had been in months. It was just going to take a while to get used to that off-putting feeling of security. You laid awake with your eyes open, staring in the dark at the cracked window that was causing the noises.

You squinted at it, wondering who had left it open and why you'd let yourself get so startled by something as silly as wind blowing through an open window once again. Staring at it wouldn't make it close though and you pulled yourself out of bed to shut it. The moment you brought the window down the noises stopped, leaving the room almost unsettlingly quiet.

You turned around then, spurred on by the silence to face the bed again, searching the cream colored sheets for any sign of Ellie. Your heart beat could be felt through your whole body then. She couldn't have gone far, only an hour ago you were laying side-by-side, sharing body heat and exhales.

"Ellie?" You said into the empty room. It was dark but you knew the layout of your farmhouse well enough to get to where you were going.

You creaked the door open, looking down the short hall to the bathroom. It was slightly open, enough for you to tell no one was inside. You continued out, heading to Ellie's dedicated art room. You'd found her here pretty late in the night a few times before. It happened especially when she was far away in her head. She would lose track of time while hyper focused on her art. Most of the time you let her just until you felt yourself getting tired, then you would finally interrupt to take her to bed with you. You would stroke her hair as she fell asleep, staring at her peaceful face in the darkness. It worried you sometimes, how quiet she got.

Walking in you were met with many versions of your own face. Some pinned in place on the wall and some leaning against it, stapled to canvas. She loved to paint and draw you, it was a love language of sorts and you grew to appreciate it more than anything else. You couldn't imagine a more pure

deceleration of love than to create art in another's image. You felt butterflies every time you thought of her admiring you in that way, so intimately. The room was messy with miscellaneous items, strewn all over the floor and collected in crates with no obvious organization. it had been like this since you found the place, she never took the time to sort through all of her things, and put them where they should be. Still, you never took it upon yourself to touch anything in that room. it was her safe place and you wanted to keep it that way.

The next place to check was downstairs. As you traveled down, felt the air grow colder. You shivered at feeling the coolness on your bare legs and arms, it made you want to hurry back to bed. Not without Ellie though.

"Ellie?" You called out louder than you had before, stepping into the dining room.

Ellie's plate was still there from dinner. She always forgot to clean up after herself but you didn't mind doing it for her. after all that time, you both spent surviving it felt good to live. To have dirty dishes and laundry to be annoyed and not wounds that required stitches and left deep scars. You grabbed the plate and brought it to the sink, placing it as quietly as you could. You were starting to get nervous now. Your chest feeling tight as you wandered. She had to be here. Nothing bad was supposed to happen to either of you while you were here, she promised you that.

The living room was left. It was your favorite part of the house so far. You'd put so much effort into decorating it. Putting things together as nicely as you could like you'd seen in magazines from before. Ellie thought it was a bit silly how much effort you put into getting everything together but in the end she was able to appreciate it too, mostly because it made you happy. She loved seeing you happy.

A sigh of relief passed through you when you saw her. It felt like something heavy had been lifted off of you and you were endlessly grateful.

"What are you doing in here? I was looking for you." You told her. She was standing near the window with her back to you. Her short hair still a little messy from being in bed. When you were close enough you reached up to run a hand through it which caused her to flinch away from your touched. Shocked, you took a step back, your lips parted in confusion.

"Ellie, look at me." You said to her softly. You gave her about half a second before your hands were on her shoulder, pulling her to turn and face you.

When you did your saw how wet her face was by the moonlight pouring in. Her cheeks were reddened and her eyes glossy and darkened like a pond at night. You could tell she'd cried, hard, even if she hadn't noticed it herself. Aside from that you noticed the distraught look in her eyes as she looked at you. More accurately, looked straight past you.

"Come sit with me, okay?" You said to her, grabbing a trembling hand to guide her over to the couch with you. She let out a shaky breath, almost getting a word out but failing miserably. You rubbed your thumb over her knuckles to let her know that it was okay. That she didn't have to say or do anything.

"Just breathe for me, I'm here, you're safe." You reminded her. Her eyebrows were still drawn together tightly as she looked down at her hands, they were still trembling quite a bit and just the sight of them seemed to upset her. All you could think to do was grab them in your own to keep them steady. She was warm to the touch.

You wondered what was on her mind then, what she remembered that pained her so much. You probably couldn't even begin to understand. You let her rest her head against your chest when she was able to. You brought a gentle hand to hold her there, stroking over her hair soothingly as she let her tears fall silently without trying to stop them. She had seen things that changed her, things she wouldn't tell you about because she didn't think you needed to know. You never pried, only listening when she needed you to. She had done things that she hated herself for and sometimes you feared that you'd never know why. You weren't scared of Ellie, not once had you ever been in all your years of knowing her, but you were starting to think that maybe she was scared of herself. She knew that the destruction that she was capable of left no room for forgiveness. Still, even with all that she dragged herself through, nothing compared to what she was forced to be witness to.

It was always worse each time she had to feel it all over again.

It made her whole body ache and grow numb all at the same time. A sick feeling formed in the pit of her stomach that stopped her from being able to breathe correctly. She'd cry out for someone to save her, for anyone to take those memories back so she could finally relax after all this time but no one could. Her fists would never unclench and the heavy metal chains of revenge were unmerciful and stronger than she could ever hope to be. Her redemption would never come as long as she was like this, no matter how much she laid awake at night hoping to move on from what she's done, she still lusted for the same brutality that broke her down into what she was now.

She listened to you hum to her and whisper sweet words. As she tried to slow her own breathing down, she followed the lead of yours. Calm and steady.

"You're okay, we're okay." You told her. She tried her hardest to believe you. Focusing on your voice and the delicate feeling of her hands on her, she melted down into something more manageable. In and out became less of a challenge and more of a natural bodily function. She slid her hands under your shirt, resting there just to feel the rise and fall. With her eyes closed there was finally darkness and nothing else.

୨♡୧

"I'm sorry I'm a mess." Ellie finally said when she felt like a person again. The sun was rising now. You almost didn't respond, you hadn't heard her speak actual words in hours. The bright feeling you got just from hearing her voice broke you out of whatever haze you were in.

"You're my mess." You said looking down at her fondly. Her eyes were so sincere as they gazed into yours. Like your souls were touching somehow. You couldn't imagine feeling like this with anyone else. Ellie was strong. The strongest person that you had ever known, but she was still human, fragile under her exterior. When it slipped you always wanted to be there for her.

"We're gonna be okay soon." You promised her, placing an innocent kiss to her freckled cheek. She sat impossibly close to you, your skin starting sweat against hers but you both couldn't care less. It felt right.

She wasn't sure yet how soon "soon" would be, and neither were you. All that she hoped was that she'd last that long with her rage sitting dormant.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams angst #the last of us fanfiction #tlou part 2 #tlou fanfiction #ellie tlou fanfic

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nemkero · 21 days

Note

its the same anon as before-

Can I just say I love the way you add depth to the skin tones and I also love your color line art?

The textures and expressions ahahghjdbhjdgjdfbdf <3 not to mention the lighting on some of these are just great!

uh if you don't mind can you tell me how you do your colors? Like the base ones I don't mean all the lighting stuff

im still fairly new to digital art so how do you color inside the character instead of just each individual shape?

jfbdskjbjksfbdf thank you ^v^

THANK YOU SO MUCHH!!!! much appreciated c:

im pretty bad at explaining it but usually i just use much more saturated and warm colors in my art since im biased (i like warm tones a lot) and i also think it more eyecatching!

heres an example-- i make the values generally similar with mainly the darker colors (hair, shoulder thingy) being lightened slightly to reduce contrast so its more easy on the eye & makes it look softer ig? i also like to choose one color in particular to "base" all the other colors around, and that color is usually some sort of primary color and the most saturated. in this case, its a red/orange color, so i had all of my other colors shift closer to it (in reference to the color wheel)

heres another (really crappy LOL) example based around a more orange tone (though looking at it i think i made sokka a little too orange... whoops) and if you look at the values themselves...

basically the same! most of this is just preference too so its not like you need to REALLY stick to the original values or anything, but all that id look out for is that you pay most attention to stuff like skin tones just to make sure youre not like whitewashing by accident lol

im overcomplicating things but its kinda just something i think you learn over time? the way i figured colors out was by abandoning any and all reliance on blending layers (stuff like multiply, add, overlay, etc.) and just eyeballing literally everything and it kinda forced me to figure out how to make colors look good without relying on filters!

as for blocking in colors in general... i forget how to draw sometimes so im never really consistent with it LOL but lasso fill is your best friend! i either just use a random color and lasso fill the whole character manually (left) and set that layer to alpha lock/protect alpha, or i just lasso fill each color individually (right) bc im a freak sometimes

what i recommend doing/the fastest way is using the magic wand to select outside of your lines, invert the selection and then fill in the selection with a color and setting that to alpha lock.

i dont use it as much anymore mostly because i dont line so my stuff is really sketchy (so stuff like on the right happens) and i kinda like messy coloring anyways soooo... but yeah!!! i dont really recommend using the fill bucket that much unless the situation calls for it c:

(and if you do struggle with this and ur results look like whats on the right, try just manually closing your lines or seeing if your wand has an option for automatically closing gaps!)

#sorry this is so long #and sorry if it makes no sense #thank u anon for the kind words tho!#hope this helps a little!

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alittlefanatic · 1 year

Note

hi!! can you write a wally x reader one shot where the reader joins this foxtrot ballroom dance competition with wally (they join as friends, i think you can see where im going w this) and through those days of practice, both the reader and wally get flustered by eachother (hidden mutual crushing !!) omgg then the reader asks poppy for advice bc shes kimd of like the mother figure of the neighbourhood .. then the day of the competition arrives, wally is a little anxious about it like what if they fall on the floor?? he only learned how to ballroom dance bc he wanted to partner up with the reader but the reader reassures that hes going to do great and glamourous!! they perform and omgg the eye contact, how secured both of their grasp is on one another, the reader's whispers of reassurance to wally while they danced to can't take my eyes off you?? omgggg, both of them confess during when they were awarded for 2nd place !!

oh and ofc, always make sure to take breaks n drink water!! :D

STORY BELOW!

Oh, this made my heart absolutely MELT!

I don't know much about dance competitions but do not worry I will indeed try my best neighbor!!

I think I'm going to make this story have multiple parts, so I apologize if this is too long! I already have chapter Ideas if this tells you anything LMAO But I have so many ideas for this story in particular that I want to put my all into it! Until the other parts come out though, enjoy this first chapter! And if you would like, I can tag you in the updates

____________

🍎Shall We Dance? - Day 1🍎

Wally Darling x Reader Story

Tags: Fluff, Romantic, Established Crush, and Friendship!

Summary: Sally recently announced a Dance competition in the neighborhood! Granted, you have no idea how to even Foxtrot, but it couldn't be so bad right? Besides! You have your best friend Wally there as your Dance Partner! Nothing could go wrong...well, that is, until some feelings come to the surface...

(Lovely art by TTobeeb on Twitter)

It was a beautiful Sunny day in the neighborhood! It was peaceful, quiet, relaxed...well, you would say that if it wasn't for Sally Starlet running around happily in the neighborhood, posters in hand as she plastered them onto doors and trees and fences all along the neighborhood.

You and Wally were sitting in the grass simply chatting in the warm sun, spring was coming to a close and summer was beginning to arrive, when you noticed the happily frantic star gushing and dancing about. You couldn't help but glance toward Wally, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you have any Idea what she's up to?"

"No clue neighbor. It could be that she's trying to set up another play?"

"Maybe? God, I don't know if I could star in another one. I completely messed up my lines halfway through and I just wanted to lie down and perish."

Wally couldn't help but laugh, giving you a friendly pat on the shoulder. Wally was your best friend, you have pretty much been through it all! Julie would tease the two of you relentlessly, saying that we'd be the 'picture perfect couple' but we always joked about it and cast it aside. We were just good friends, and I was happy to say that I knew him!

"Oh come on neighbor, you weren't that bad."

"Wally, how does a person mess up Romeo and Juliet?"

Wally was about to answer before the bright and energetic came running up to the two of us.

"NEIGHBOR! WALLY! You're going to join my competition right?" She spoke excitedly, doing a twirl as she held her fliers close, before handing one to each of you. You cocked your head, confused.

"Competition? What happened to plays?" You spoke, reading over the flier. It was very colorful and bright, with red glitter over the title 'Foxtrot Dance Competition.' This was dancing, was it not?

"Yes, this is a form of...ballroom dance? Have you been hanging out with Julie again? I know how much of a romantic she is." Wally spoke, obviously teasing but Sally was oblivious, nodding her head.

"Yes! Julie would talk about how ball dances worked and thought we should incorporate them into our plays sometime. But that would mean we would need some great dancers as the leads in order to sell the play more! So! With that in mind, we came up with the idea of creating this competition, not only to see others' dance skills, but to think about leading roles for the future~"

Sally rambled on and on excitedly as I couldn't help but continue to stare at the flier, reading it. 'Foxtrot Dance Competition! Partner Required! Come test out your dancing skills! Winners get to be the star in the upcoming play!' The thought wasn't too bad! You didn't know how to dance much, you had some skill, but hey, the worst that could happen was that you would place last right? Deep in thought, Wally's voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"Thank you for the offer Sally, but I think both neighbor and I will have to de-"

"I'll do it!" You spoke with newfound excitement. It would give you something to do on these hot summer days and learn a new skill, there are no downsides!

Wally looked over at you, eyes widening. He looked at you with dilated pupils, but you couldn't help but smile excitedly. Sally couldn't either, she was beginning to shine even more than she already was! Grabbing both of my hands and pulling me up to jump up and down.

"Oh my goodness that's so exciting! Thank you neighbor I absolutely know you're going to do great and you are going to dance wonderfully and-" Sally kept on and on, jumping you in circles to the point you were almost dizzy.

Wally looked down at the flier again, contemplating before letting out a quiet sigh. What was he getting himself into? The sight of you with your wide smile though, was all that he could ask for. He loved seeing his friend smile.

"I'll join in too. You need a partner for these kinds of things, right? Neighbor, I'd like to enter with you as my partner if you don't mind~" He spoke, looking towards you with his signature smile. Your excitement only continued to grow as you grabbed Wally's hand.

"I'd absolutely love to! We are an unstoppable pair! This is going to be a breeze!"

"Well, you two better get to practicing then! The competition is the next Saturday, not this upcoming one!" Sally interrupted, tapping the flier to show the date.

"That's only...10 days away! Is that even enough time?" Wally asked, there was a hint of worry in his voice. "I don't know how to dance very well, in fact, I'm poor at it."

You never actually heard Wally admit he wasn't very good at something before, so that was a first. He was usually a confident guy, it may seem as if he was full of himself sometimes sure, but he always meant well. You couldn't help but smile.

"Well, what's the worst that'll happen Mr. Darling?"

He pondered that for a moment, shaking his head as he gave a lighthearted laugh. "Ha ha ha. Nothing too bad I guess now that I think about it! You're right neighbor. You always know how to view things positively. That's what makes you the most!"

You couldn't help but smile, as Sally looked between the two of you, a small smirk set across her face.

"Well, get to dancing you two! I want to see passion and sparks! Make my heart SOAR with your dancing! I have to tell others about this-"

"Haven't you already put fliers over the whole neighborhood?" You raised an eyebrow.

"That's barely enough! I have to get going!" Sally laughed and waved, grabbing her fliers when she spotted her next targets. With a cheerful smile, she ran towards Eddie and Frank. You could faintly hear in the distance her rambling on about the competition.

"God, does that girl ever know how to slow down?"

"Sometimes I wonder if she knows the meaning of slow."

You and Wally both looked at each other and laughed, holding the flier in your hand as you extended your other to Wally.

"Well 'Partner,' looks like you're stuck with me for the next 10 days! You ready to get your dancing shoes on?"

"You make it sound like being stuck with you is a bad thing! I'm delighted neighbor." He spoke, grabbing your hand as you lifted him off the ground and onto his feet. You couldn't help but smile at him, as you looked down at the flier once more, putting your hand to your chin as you began to pace back and forth.

"I need to make sure I have the appropriate attire, dance shoes for certain, we need to have lots of water, especially during this heatwave. Hmm...do you have a music disc? Or at least a slow-paced song?" You thought allowed, looking towards Wally who was thinking alongside you.

"I know I have one somewhere at Home, I might just have to go and dig for it is all! Other than that, I think we are as prepared as we could be. If we need to, we could always go to Howdy's Bugdega and ask for some supplies?"

"I might have to...I don't recall having any dancewear...I do know we need to start immediately! Tomorrow! After we get our supplies, let's get straight to dancing and see what we need to work on!!" You spoke enthusiastically, your hands on your hips as you had this smirk about you.

Wally couldn't help but roll his eyes and sigh a little at your disposition. It was too late to back out now, and he certainly wasn't going to. He couldn't help but remain cheery though.

"Well then neighbor, I do have a couple of things I need to do before then, like clean Home and find some records. So I will probably head back, as it is starting to become late anyways." Wally looked over to the sky, it was getting a bit late! Time always seemed to fly by when you were with each other.

You nodded and smiled, giving a little salute. "Well then Mr. Darling! I'll be at Home at nine am sharp! You better be prepared!" You half-joked, as you turned around, giving him a little wave as you began to walk back to your house.

"Be safe neighbor! I'll see you at nine am!" Wally smiled, waving goodbye as they headed back towards home.

As you began to walk home though, a pit of nervousness began to grow in your stomach. Dancing? You had no idea what you were doing! You've never slow-danced before, nonetheless been to a dance, unless you count dancing in your bedroom with the music turned up.

You sighed, making it to your home, opening the door, and heading inside, putting the flier on the kitchen counter, as you stared at it.

What did you get yourself into?

AUTHORS NOTE:

THIS IDEA MAKES ME SO SOFT!! I genuinely have about 10 chapters in mind, one for each day...so I hope you enjoy this neighbor!

Gentle Reminder I am a student and I am writing these when I can, finals are ROUGH!

You can also find this story on my wattpad!

#wally x reader #wally darling x reader #wally darling #wally darling x y/n #wally x y/n #welcome home arg #welcome home x reader #i am so soft #i dont know much about dance contests but i have ideas #stick with me for the ride #slow burn?????

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swordheld · 9 months

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how do you think in poems? i really enjoy the tags under your posts i've always wanted to write down my own thoughts that way bc in my head they feel so thorough and magical but whenever i put it in words i feel it just gets so much flatter and i no longer see a point and give up

oh oh oh, but lovely, can't you see that you've already started? it's a perspective that you hone, over time, something that is specific to you and you alone – that's the piece of it that makes it so special! you've already begun, and it only goes forward, up, sideways from here, wherever you wish to go!

think of it like a skill, for a moment, or a kind of muscle, if you'd prefer. you have to work at it, with it, over time and differing experiences, in order to progress.

(a quick important note: not progression as in the kind of quality-check of a grading scale, but progression as in evolution. shifting change. think of the leaves and their colors across the months of autumn, or temperatures rising with the sun and cooling with the evening dark. change isn't intrinsically a qualifying thing, it can just be, sometimes. this is difficult to remember, especially in the midst of frustration, but it is worth it. you are always doing better than you think you are – harshest critic, and all that.)

which is not to say that it's a simple thing to do! compare this to the vibe of me picking up crochet recently, with my shaking hands and too-quickly dwindling adhd focus – my first attempts at making a lil headphone sprout have not been going as well as i once hoped. my stitches are either too big and sloppy bc i'm not holding the yarn tightly enough to get clean ones, or i feel frustrated due to it not looking like how i'd like it to look in my mind when i started it, or even as i begin my umpteenth attempt.

but!! i know that it won't ever look the way i want it do if i set it down and never keep trying. it'll take awhile, like everything does, even the seasons take their time, the moon and its phases; but what i do know, is that, eventually, it'll resemble something i want it to. vaguely, maybe, but it is something. it doesn't have to look exactly like the guide i'm following, or the examples i'm inspired by, because it's mine – something made by my own hands, my own time and experience with every mistake and thrilling joy along the way to learn by.

take it from me: i want to be good at things i want to be good at so badly. and that excitement makes me want to be at the skill level i need to be at in order to do so right then and there, no learning curves or building blocks allowed. which is never how it happens, unfortunately, but –

i think, gently, that we tend to overlook what a pleasure it is to learn. to see the slow progression of things, to begin and change and continue and get better. and even if it's different as we go along, in a way it's our own little kind of magic, maybe, to create and never be done if we don't want to be.

which is all to say: it's already yours. why does it have to be anything else, anything more? why can't it just be good as it is now, where it might never be again? what is there to lose by enjoying the moment of where you are?

like everything, it will grow and shift and evolve with time, maybe into something you'd hoped for, or maybe into something you don't even have the words to describe right now at all. but that's the fun of it: how even now, even then, there, across time and distance and skill, there is a common thread of things; it will always come from your heart, your experience, where you are right then and there and now.

and if you think of that like magic, well, it becomes a little like magic, doesn't it?

also, something to consider: sometimes things you feel or think can't be put into words at that moment, or even at all! something else you could try (that i certainly do) is making something else with whatever it makes you feel - whether that's another form of art, or any other kind of media. if it makes you want to go outside and take a walk or get cozy and read or play a video game? that counts too! that's still an experience, you're still feeling.

i think that counts a little more than anything else, you know?

and as a little ending fun side-note, can i share something cool? i've never thought of it that way before, as thinking in poems. in my mind it's always been a kind of perspective of personal wonder, but you're right – it's poetry, in it's own way. you gave me that – so thank you, from the heart of me. i hope your journey finds you with every bright joy.

#rainsdowninkerala #q&a.#this is truly so much longer than i had originally thought it would be so i do hope it's less rambly and more help-y?#the art of creation goes hand in hand with the exploration and discovery of feeling and it is sooooo important n fascinating to me.#truly tho this can all be boiled down into a kind of: keep going? keep going. you can only get better.#i didn't want the post itself to get even longer & winded BUT if you want a lil fun vibe? watch meet the robinsons. it's a lil silly; but -#truly nothing changed my creative experiences more than hearing ' keep moving forward ' paired with joy at the result of failure.#how it is that you never learn if you don't fail; you have to keep trying; keep going at it; and if we only ever succeeded –#there would never be that? that checkpoint of progression? it changed that frustrating moment into a kind of art; for me.#how each time i fail and feel that sadness or anger it reframes it into oh. i'm learning. i'm doing something new and i'm learning.#isn't that amazing? spectacular? that i can do this? that it's me / you / us together?#i think ab that a lot in terms of inspiring my mindset. i hope it helps you too. wishing u all my best !!!! <3

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strawbubbysugar · 10 months

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Hi hello I binged your fic in two days, scrolled through the tag until chapter one and I am full of ✨questions✨

So Matt sees both his wife’s and DJ’s as green, right? Is that bc green’s his favorite color? And that’s why he confused his wife’s string as romantic?

Did Matt’s wife divorce him after the DJ realization or did she die during childbirth? By the little info it sounds like he has full custody of Maddie??

If Matt’s wife IS dead, what happened to the string? In general what would happen if a soulmate died? Does the string disappear?

Idk if I’m overthinking it, but is Monty becoming.. too friendly? Based on the latest chapter with the tail wagging, I feel like he’s become more invested with YNgineer? Maybe he has a platonic string with them? Again, might be overthinking???

Saw some art with Rockstar YN in the So(u)l tag and I COULDNT HELP BUT NOTICE they’re wearing sun and moon colors?? Have they unconsciously been wearing their colors even before their awakening because that’s ADORABLE

So I know YNgineer’s string is silver/grey for the DCA because colorblind, but did you have a specific color in mind, like if YN COULD see color, what would their fav color be? Or is that reader interpretation? In which case fair lol

YNGINEER WROTE A SONG FOR SUN IM???????? THATS SO CUTE AND I HAVE TO KNOW IF THERES ANOTHER SONG FOR MOON? Chapter cliffhanger got me bad man I sense incoming angst but auuughhhhhh I hope they get back to fun sleepover times soon!!

Tysm for an amazing fic love it so much! The chapter lengths are so delightful! Not too short and not too long! Idk if that’s intentional but chefs kiss!! Looking forward to more, but of course no pressure!!! Take care of yourself!! Sorry if any of the questions are spoilery but I can’t wait to find the answers one way or another! 👁️👁️

^^ I recommend goin through the blog since I dont tag everything as so(u)l and a lotta these questions are answered!! Ill answer the ones that havent been/are incorrect though!!

Matt saw his wifes as a dusty green, and he sees the DJ's as rainbow. Dj sees his string with Matt as a more electric green, woven with black! already answered! When your soulmate dies, the markings you had for them fade even more than they already wouldve if both of you confirmed the bond. Theyre still there though, they just lose all colour. shrug! hehehehe Silvery would still be the colour I imagine, though with more of a hint of teal! Its really up to reader interpretation though :) There is another song for moon! :)

#ask #so(u)l spoilers #so(u)l lore #^^ hehe tysm!!

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wellnoe · 11 months

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hi! I love your art so much?? you’ve really reignited a love for the x-men that I haven’t had since I was a kid <3 I wanted to ask if you had any advice for making comics? have a nice day!!

ah!!! ty!

when i make comics on my own (most of the single page stuff i post on here) i have a different process than when i make comics with other people. i usually start with a couple of strong visuals i have in mind, then i’ll break down what i want to be conveyed by the paneling (basically: what are the main beats i want to hit?), and then i finally do dialogue. i sometimes put in placeholder dialogue to remind me of information that absolutely has to be conveyed in the layouts/pencils stage, but most dialogue only gets added in after a page is completely done, colors and all. this is the most intuitive way to do comics for me, and i think that’s my first piece of advice, which is find a workflow that makes sense for how your brain conceives of scenes. anyway bc thats my process all of my advice is basically about drawing comics.

(this is the 'coming up with visuals' stage for a comic i'm working on currently. you can see that i'm basically just throwing anything at the wall to see if it works, and leaving a couple words/notes for myself so i know whats going on. its not even really a layout, the panels are not arranged how they would be on a final page.)

my other piece of advice is to pick apart paneling and comics you love? don’t just redraw them (though that can help too), but study what the paneling and composition conveys, and how that accentuates the story (which it often does!). i’ve done this w watchmen, a couple of moon knight runs, and some x-stuff, and i find it really helps me learn a lot about pacing, how time works, and how to economically convey information (bc you have a lot less room on a page than you think!). as a part of that: an exercise i think is a lot of fun/really helpful is to take pages/scenes you like and recompose them. use different paneling to convey the same scene and see how the meaning changes! do it intentionally, planning on pulling focus to something the original scene slides by. you can do this with your own stuff too:

(this is me picking apart a redraw i wanted to do of a comic i posted on here a couple of years ago. first i redrew the comic in the left corner so i could see the composition, then i made notes to myself about what the original comic was supposed to be about, and what i wanted to add to it to improve it. sorry for how blurry it is, the pencil smudged.)

here’s some rapid fire stuff i like to keep in mind while making comics: time does not exist in comics the way it exists in movies or in prose. the gutter? anything can happen there. it is potentially literally any amount of time. its up to you to convey via panel content and composition how much time has passed (which can be very little!) same deal with space. things happen in between panels, and people move, but also panels overlap, or squish, or disregard scenery. that said! this has to be done intentionally. how panels are organized, their size, their relationship to one another, all convey information to your reader. my point is the sky's the limit here. so yknow. have fun w it.

finally i think you just need to do it a lot. i have a ton of comic layouts or pencils that i never posted bc they honestly just aren’t that competent, but i learned nevertheless. there’s other stuff that never made it past the layout or sketch stage bc i was just doing it to practice, so there was never any need to ink or color it. making comics like any other drawing is about continuously assessing intention and communication.

hope that was helpful in some way!! i like making comics a lot, and i have a lot of fun thinking about paneling and the like. i hope you have fun making comics too <3

#idk if this is what you were looking for or if you wanted more like. definitive technical advice #but i hope this was helpful in some way #w.ask

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dailydegurechaff · 1 year

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okay so basically this is a thought i had out of nowhere and now i want to share it with you,Tanya degurechaff and Friends as magical girls ✨ yay! glitter,cute clothes and a explosion of colors✨

ah yes the perfect don't you agree? just imagine Tanya and her friends on magical(and weirdly mortal and dangerous) Adventures!!! ah yes simply perfect!

The first piece of art on this blog that I fully complete with clean lineart, color, and shading… and it's magical girl art. That's so painfully on brand for me I can't even be surprised by it.

I actually have quite a few Thoughts about magical girl Tanya (specifically in the context of a potential PMMM/Youjo Senki crossover) that are just living Rent Free in my head which I would love to just go off about. Maybe another time though bc I started this at like 3pm and its now 10. help. (7 hours. This is what happens when ur stuck inside all day bc of covid i guess.)

I'll put it very simply for now. I love the idea of magical girl Tanya and friends. I would love to do more for this it one day.

Anyway, regarding the design I ended up drawing... So we saw in the afterword of novel 5, Shinobu Shinotsuki did an illustration of Tanya as a magical girl (And also in the afterword of 9 we got Visha), but I wanted to design one myself, as while the illustration is wonderful and hilarious it just wasn't quite what I wanted. The end result I got was of course this.

She doesn't have a lot of the frill that you usually see on magical girl designs, but y'know with her personality I don't think frills really suit her anyway.

I'm quite happy with it. Maybe another time I'll do some sketches for some of the other characters like Mary and Visha :,)

#youjo senki #the saga of tanya the evil #tanya von degurechaff #bonus doodle #not a daily post

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milk-ducts · 5 months

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You're really out here thinking u don't have a relevant internet presence?? lmao please, ur like one of the best invincible blogs i follow and ur art is just beyond stunning. i LIVE for the rare moments u post those gorgeous drawings, u capture these characters in a way no one else does and have such a way with color picking and rendering AHHHH. And don't even get me started on your character analyses, like the way u pick apart immortal and cecil just makes me see them in an entirely different way and anytime you post i know im in for a treat

you're a gem in this fandom and we're so lucky to have u, i just wish u were more active but i get it, life happens. i'm always happy whenever i see u post SOMETHING, even if it's just you reblogging other artists. point is, we love u, i love u, and u better know how much u mean to ur followers

i love u so much u funky little creature keep doing u and being the light of my dash. merry christmas, here's to another year of me thirsting after your art and yelling into the void abt how much i adore u. <333

WTF…,…. IM LITERALLY GONNA KILL MYSELF WJAT./.,… /J i seriously have such a hard time seeing any sort of value and or relevance in the things i post but msgs like this remind me there r actually ppl out there who do enjoy and look forward to my rambles n doodles,, and i am just,, so grateful……………. !!!!!

LIKE U DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME AAAAHHH THANK U THANK U THANK U.. IM ON MY KNEES. i feel so blessed to have followers like u who stick around even when i disappear for months on end.,, just know that anytime i do post, it's literally only becuz of sweethearts such as urself motivating me from the shadows <3 i appreciate every single one of u more than words can describe,, i wish yall would get more active here as well !! (INVINCIBLE TUMBLR FEED),, its such a great fandom filled w sm wonderful and talented ppl on here !!!

ALSO ANON U BETTER KNOW I LOVE U TOO U PRECIOUS ANGEL!!!!! LIKE IF I COULD REACH THRU THIS SCREEN N SMOOCH U I WOULD!!! AWAGHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGjHGGUIOIUFYG i hope the rest of ur holidays are as bright and cheerful as u made mine today. ur the best bb now if u'll excuse me imma go cry myself 2 sleep bc i can't handle this kind of stuf….. (also.. it is lat,e,, for me .. < 3 gn everyone)

#milky.txt #milkyasks

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cerezzzita · 2 years

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Half angel reader? BET! I like to think they have the same/similar power buffs as Dante (accelerated healing, strength, ect) but would they have an equivalent to Devil Trigger? Would could they turn into? Also which basis of angels would like to use? Like the scary biblical angels, the pretty ones in old art, or based in a game that has angels (my mind goes straight to Bayonetta and its lore)

Notes: *bayonetta's voice* Morning! Yeah, that's me finally answering this, um, request? It is more like an headcanons post, so here I brought y'all some headcanons of my own of what and how angels/half-angels would be in DMC Universe. It took me, at least, months and months of researching because goddamnit- it doesn't looks like, but angels have so many informations about them from Christian to Abrahamic religions, yet I think most of my hcs here came from Christian concept with a mix of DMC Universe, I think. I hope I don't offend anyone with this, btw.

So! Let's rock! Thank you for requesting and enjoy the experience as much as you can! (Again, this is more of an general hcs post, I'm just adding this 4Dante gif bcs it's somewhat I aimed to, y'know, relate + I love 4Dante with all my strength <3)

✦ Sidenote/To start off: Angels in the Devil May Cry universe do not "exist", they're treated like mythological beings and are mentioned throughout the whole series frequently. The DMC wiki suggests that demons once were angels, then there's The Fallen on DMC3 whose appearance is very angel-like and their description says they were in Heaven once. There's also The Seven Deadly Sins — said explicitly that they fell from celestial grace — Lucia's DT, the Angelo Knights (although they're demons but "Angelo" is the Italian word to angel, anyways you got the deal) and many more. I personally believe something happened to them, like, all of them fell and turned into demons, they're hiding somewhere or they were purely extinct… Also, this post is an open-one, that means y'all can reblog and add another headcanons of your own as much as you want!

These celestial creatures and their descendants match with the demons in general abilities such as superhuman strength, speed and durability, healing regeneration, and elemental control. However, there are facts that differentiate them from the infernal creatures, and they are:

Mortals faithfully believe that angels are humanoid beings of ethereal beauty with a singular and grandiose pair of wings. Depending on their placement in the angelic hierarchy, they range from human-like bodies to the most animalistic ones, and those that are "equal" in having a human shape are indeed heavenly beautiful. As for their wings, an angel can have one or more pairs of wings — again, all according to their position in the Celestial Spheres.

Contrasting with the demons' dark color palette, they have a more loaded palette of light tones such as white, blue and gold and in certain cases, brown. In their Angel Trigger, their bodies may or may not evolve further from their humanoid and animal-like molds with a kind of armor made of angelic stone that makes the most "human" angels vary between female and/or male silhouettes, their halos are on display and their faces take on a texture similar to a marble sculpture and do not move as they speak and express emotions; they're also able to control elements such as fire — restricted only to seraphim —, lightning, nature and ice.

As stated before, their ATs are usually able or not to evolve their basic bodies. For example: the cherubim are large and leonine, when they have the Angel Trigger activated, they become a triple combination of angel, eagle, a human head and four pairs of wings of divergent sizes. Seraphim, with a body that merely resembles a human one and with elements of fire for their clothing, become extensive flaming serpentine figures with six pairs of wings.

Angels are literally cold-blooded. Their natural icy blood differs from the warm blood of demons so they can withstand the lower temperatures of high reliefs, cold weather environments, and Heaven itself. Still, it's not a total benefit to the hybrids as thanks to their human half, they constantly need to be warmed up when exposed to these low temperatures for too long.

The halo of angels is made of light and a part of their soul, as it is what carries their identity according to their function in their respective Celestial Sphere, going from the most detailed to superior positions — seraphim, cherubim, thrones — to the simplest for lower positions — principalities, archangels, common angels. Halos, when exposed, can make the angel vulnerable to greater amounts of damage and in extreme cases on a battle, lead them to death.

All hybrids have only one pair of wings, regardless of which angel they descend from. They can measure between 5 to 8 meters in length and the color of their feathers can be entirely white or have brown, golden, silvery or bluish shades. Although they can be summoned at will, they only appear when a hybrid "matures" — around fourteen or fifteen years old —. It's not a pleasant process, the wings don't magically appear, they literally rip the flesh off the back and break some rib bones. Due to the high amount of damage, not all hybrids survive during the appearance of the wings, and those that have resisted the pain are able to regenerate in around two to three hours.

The term used to designate the hybrids, "Nephilim", is extremely offensive since its concept comes from the fallen and impure angels who failed to hide their children from the supreme forces of Heaven. It also refers to the infernal giants that, by their angelic reminiscent appearance, were associated with the heavenly creatures. "Nephilim" is commonly used by demons as a way of offending and despising their children, a remembrance to the angels' hypocrisy.

Angels and Demons cannot touch each other when using their powers or activating their Triggers during battle. This is also valid for half-angels and half-demons. Once their opposing essences collide, accidentally or not, the sensation will be the same as having been fatally burned, the place hit will present purple and/or blue veins with a golden energy for the angels and another fuchsia for the demons.

ꗃ special tagging: @tefimaysimp @aldryrththerainbowheart

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