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#shine 2
coridallasmultipass · 3 months
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For writers, you have an incriminating search history. For artists, you have the same thing, but also incriminating layer names. "Body, skeleton, muscle, arm, table, sword, lining, body 2, shine, nails, hair, sfx, eyes..." It is like a fucking mortuary up in here.
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sainztander · 9 months
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humans-are-tasty · 4 months
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arttsuka · 1 month
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I drew this meme too (I should have drawn the groom uglier tbh)
Og picture:
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p4nishers · 10 months
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i think it's time i admit i have the biggest fatest crush on 1941 crowley. like dude.
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thehorrormoviechick · 9 months
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Japanese horror movie posters
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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 3 months
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Japanese horror movie posters
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goryhorroor · 6 months
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day 17 of horror: the screams of horror
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lokiiied · 6 months
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so…the god who’s biggest fear is “i don’t want to be alone” and who “never wanted a throne” has now resigned themself to a lifetime in solitude. on a throne. making an ultimate sacrifice so that everyone else can live.
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don’t fucking talk to me.
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slgoodwinauthor · 7 months
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At what point is Mary going to be casually leaving a merry widow brunch and see a wanted poster with a fairly decent sketch of Stede on it, wanted in conjunction with Blackbeard, aka Edward Teach???
Just Mary standing there like...Blackbeard, Edward...Ed.
Casually realising that your husband isn't just 'dating some guy named Ed' but that he's somehow gone from 'hobby pirate' to 'hopelessly in love with the real world incarnation of Satan' and then wondering if this means Blackbeard ISN'T terrible and having to just sort of agree when people talk about being scared shitless of this fucking ocean terrorist whilst knowing he's probably out there somewhere putting up with Stede's snoring and addiction to orange cake.
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alipopsie · 1 month
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whoa dude you are a solid 4/10
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miyabau · 8 months
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opla doodles!!
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ghostbsuter · 8 months
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Wonder MOM ( part 1 )
Happenings/mentions of:
Child abuse, possible trafficking, kidnapping and blood!
Nothing is explicit.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
Someone was in that cage.
Controlled anger aside, Batman made sure his footsteps were to be heard, speaking slow and calm as he approached and slid off the cloth.
"Everything will be okay now, are you–?"
With the cloth aside, Batman got a good look at the unconscious person inside.
He knows that face.
Thats—!!
"B! B, can you hear me?" Oracle calls, considering no one else seems to talk, he assumes Barbara put them into a private line.
"I'm here, Oracle." He answers easily, hands gripping the lock and fishing out the familiar pick-locking equipment.
"You went silent for a moment there, B, we got worried."
He gives a grunt at that, ripping the cage bars open and carefully checking for a pulse.
It's there, barely.
"Oracle, call Agent a to prepare, I'm bringing someone over."
"Got it. B, be careful, please."
Bringing the teen, the same age as his youngest, out of the cage seemed a bit harder than thought.
With some manoeuvring and carefully placed feet, the big Bat brings them both out in one swoop, tight on his hold.
His head rolls to the side, groggily blinking awake and peering up to Batman.
"Batsy?"
"Sleep, I'm getting you out of here."
"...knew you'd find me." Messy black hair hides the way he squishes his own face into Batman's side.
"Mom's probably very worried..." he gives an awkward laugh, throat dry and burning with the move.
The movement and warmth lulled him into sleep quite easily.
(Batman's expression, even if stony and blank, covered in a dark veil, anyone can see the carefully hidden layer of fury.)
Patrol was cut short that night, the boy in Alfred's care, and Bruce didn't hesitate calling Diana immediately after.
"Hello—"
"I found him."
Diana, Wonder Woman, remained silent upon the response, a quite inhale echoing through the call.
"They brought him all the way to Gotham?"
The man nods despite knowing Diana wouldn't see, giving a verbal answer after.
"I have a report of all injuries he has been subjected to. I'll send you the list."
There is a moment of silence before a sharp hiss from Diana comes through.
"They took his blood–?!"
"Not much from what Alfred gathered, but enough to get a running supply for their... plans."
"I'm coming over. Bruce, you and I both know the dangers of his blood in the wrong hands."
"Let's discuss this once you're here, Diana. Safe travels."
With a click and the call ended.
One look, and he has the eyes of most birds and bats on him already.
"The boy. You know him." Damian steps forward, arms crossed and cape off. The others must have come back not long ago and eavesdropped on his conversation.
"I do."
(The fact he doesn't elaborate nor does anyone either speak up is quite hilarious, wasn't it for the situation.)
The silence goes on, eyes sweeping over Stephanie's furrowed, thoughtful expression, Tim's calculating gaze, cass's curious yet open body language, duck's suspicious raised eyebrow and Damian's 'I dare you' scowl.
At least they didn't wake duke with their commotion.
"What's going on?" Jinxed, Duke himself comes down the stairs in his sleeping clothes, yawning.
"Duke, you're supposed to sleep."
"Sorry, sorry, apparently family drama is happening, and they needed more support." He jerks his hand towards the gaggle of vigilante children(1)/teens/one adult that is only an adult because of age laws.
Bruce suppresses a sigh.
There's a giggle to the side which gathers the attention of everyone.
Around the same height of damian, slightly thinner, is the teen B rescued not long ago. And who should not be awake either.
Alfred gives a smile, arm out stretched to support him on his way to the batclan, eyening his form with tapt attention.
"Batsy!" Ignoring the snorts and coos, Bruce nods back.
"Danny." The kid grins broadly, approaching.
He gives a wave to the other, attention solely on Bruce however.
"Is my mom coming?"
"Yes, she is on her way."
"Wonderful!"
He claps, arms bandaged to his throat, sickly pale and absolutely looking like prime adoption bait.
Cass approaches, hands ready to sign the most wnated question of everyone in the room and Bruce is already feeling the words of denial at the tip of his tongue.
'New br—'
"No."
Cass isn't backing down, expression only getting more determined.
'Honorary brother?'
He doesn't stop the sigh escaping, especially when Danny jumps up at the words with glee.
"Yes! Honorary!"
She seems very pleased with that, holding her hand out for a silent request, qnd once approved, gave a nice headpat.
"I'm actually surprised you didn't tell your kids of me, batsy." Danny side eyes the man, grinning mischievous.
"It slipped my mind."
(No, he doesn't break under the gaze of every person's disbelief stare directed at him. He stronger than that.)
(B did avoid meeting anyone's eyes tho.)
"Wait, so who is the moth—"
A green portal opens in the middle of the cave, and it has the most tense and drawing weapons.
Wonder woman stepped through.
"That answers my question then."
"Mom!"
Diana swooped him up, holding him closer and ducking her head into his black hair.
The Lady peers up at Bruce with a smile. "Thank you."
Her attention shifts to the child. "Frostbite will be expecting us, are you doing good enough to walk or should I–"
"I'm okay! I can walk!" Danny puffs his chest to prove it, giving her a reassuring smile.
Diana's brows knit together in worry. "Very well." She accepts, reluctant. She leads him to the still open veil of green, nodding towards pennyworth and both bid their goodbyes.
For now that is.
The portal closes.
"So, how were we originally supposed to know about Diana having a son??"
"HIS MOM IS WONDER WOMAN????"
"I'm so glad this isn't another adoptive brother. Honorary is good enough."
"HOW COULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM US, B!!!"
"Does that mean we have a miniature Trinity of the originals?"
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stevebabey · 1 year
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no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!
Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.
It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.
They’re little, but they’re there.
The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.
“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.
Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.
Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”
He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.
Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.
From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”
It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”
Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’
Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.
“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”
Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”
Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”
Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”
That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.
There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.
The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.
“What did I say—”
“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”
“Literally how many times do I have—”
“Oh my god, you were right—”
“ —before you realise I’m always—”
“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”
“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”
“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”
Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”
Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“
Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.
Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.
He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 
Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.
“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”
Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.
“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.
His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.
“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.
“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?
He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.
Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.
He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.
He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.
Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.
It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.
To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.
After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.
He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.
Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.
That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.
Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.
God, he was glad she suggested it.
Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.
‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.
Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.
Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.
But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.
The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.
Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.
After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.
Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.
Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.
It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.
But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.
There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.
So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.
Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.
“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”
Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”
Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”
And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.
Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.
He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.
“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”
Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.
She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.
Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.
“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.
“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”
Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.
And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.
“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.
And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”
It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.
Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.
Eddie sees the bid coming this time.
Part Three.
— 
yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.
@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus
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cccotard · 13 days
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purple ish saras
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oup… 🥣
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