#all caught up now!

[adeleine-everyday]

day 131

this has definitely happened before

[dreamyelectronicmusics]

They made Victor Trevor gay

I personally am blessed

[vyrim]

Day 9 (Hands)

@voidedjuice 's Lilia is who I think of when I think a buncha hands

[stemmmm]

the scene people keep screaming about from chapter 5 of theseus' guide

[batsyheere]

Duke, who is tired of being bullied for still having only a few spots checked off on vigilante bingo, decides to get even when family game night includes Never Have I Ever. Danny, who is either a friend or basically adopted family at this point, was invited.

He brings up the fact that he has never died and been brought back to life. Multiple fingers are put down, groans and complaints are made, and then they all turn to Danny when he just stares at the ground.

"If it happened more than once, do I put more fingers down? Or just the one?" he asks. The room falls silent for a few seconds before the flood of questions start.

[morganbritton132]

Adding onto Steve's crime spree from this (and this and this)

Eddie has determined that he's not asking the right questions in life.

Is he questioning the man? Yes. Every day.

Is he asking Wayne for help when his van shits the bed on Thursday? No. When his van is still unusable come Saturday, did he ask his friends if he could catch a ride to band practice? No.

Did he ask if he could get a ride home? Also no.

It's raining and Eddie regrets his life choices so hard, he doesn't notice the Porsche 928 until it blows through the crosswalk he was about to step onto. He's hit with a tidal wave of frigid early November street water because, of course, he is.

"Fuck's sake," Eddie swore, pushing his wet hair out of his face. In his perphery, the Porche slams on its breaks and rolls back into the crosswalk beside him, but he barely notices. Talking to the driver, the world, or god, Eddie does not know when he rants, "Thanks! Thanks for that, I really need pnumonia. Thanks for bestowing-"

"Sorry, man," Steve says, an apologetic wince sticking out of the open window of the Porche. "Wanna ride? I can take you where you're going."

Eddie looks at the car, then at Steve, and then back at the car and signs, "...Fine, but only because this car is beautiful and not to expunge your guilt."

"Dude, I don't think a sponge is going to help."

Eddie rolls his eyes but sticks his guitar in the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. He has to physically stop himself from touching everything. He's never even seen a Porche before, wow.

Steve's in the driver's seat looking like he's dying for Eddie to ask about the car so he can talk about it. Honestly, Eddie wants to ask about the car. He probably should have asked about the car but instead, he shakes the water out of his hair like a dog as payback.

"C'mon, man," Steve complains, wiping the water off his face. "Watch the leather."

Eddie gives him directions and then bites the bullet. He asks the wrong question, "You trade in the Beamer?"

"No way. That's my baby," He says. "I'm just borrowing this lady."

The conversation is actually nice. None of Eddie's friends know anything about cars but Steve seems to know a lot. He can almost forgive the guy for being a jock and the psychological warfare he's bestowed onto Eddie's brain the past week and a half, but then-

“It sounds like - shit," Eddie says, echoing the same sentiment as Steve at the sight of flashing red and blue lights in the rear view. A question he should've been asking all along occurs to him, "Did you steal this car?"

Steve gives him an annoyed look and then rolls down his window, smiling that All-American smile, "Heya, Hop. Didn't think you were working today."

"This car was reported stolen."

Eddie swears, sinking into the leather with the hopes that it eats him. Steve doesn't even hesitate, "Let me guess, Mrs. Woolledge? Crazy she knows what all her neighbors are doing but not that her kid's on dope."

Hopper doesn't say anything and the silence is loud so Steve adds, "It's not stolen. It's my dad's car. I have permission."

"From your dad?" Hopper asks, getting an annoyed nod from Steve. "Same dad that's out of town?"

"Well, Hop. There's this thing called a phone."

"You get that MRI...right? Throw the keys out the window," Hopper says. Eddie's mentally preparing on how he's going to explain this to Wayne when he calls from jail. Steve protests. Hopper demands, "Throw. The keys. Out. The. Window. Now."

Steve seems to realize that he's pushing his luck because he does just that. He even gets out of the car when Hopper tells him to. Hopper tells him to get in his truck and Steve straight up lies, "Hop, I'm taking my friend home. We're working on a school project together. At his house.”

Eddie curses Steve's entire bloodline from start to finish when Hopper lookings directly at him still in the car, "That true?"

Say no. Say you don't know him. Say you know nothing. Say anything but, "Yes."

"What subject?'

"History," Steve says at the same time Eddie says 'Art' and then rolls his eyes, "Art history, yeah?"

Hopper nods like he thinks they're full of shit and then tells them both to get in his truck.

Steve protests but more about leaving the car on the street than anything else while Eddie briefly thinks about the psychic his mom used to know. He wonders if she could curse someone for real. Maybe he can call her from jail.

He's fully ready to see the police station that he fails to realize where Hopper's going until they’re in Forest Hills. He turns and looks at both of them and says, "I'd like to know what grade you get on this project."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Steve says with a salute, pulling Eddie out of the car. Once they're inside, Steve peaks out the blinds like, "Yeah, he'll sit there for a while. He thinks I'm lying. Wanna smoke?"

Eddie is baffled, "No."

"Okay," Steve shrugs and flops down on the couch. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and adds, "Spare key. We just gotta wait until he's gone and can circle back for your guitar."

The only thing Eddie can think is, “what the fuck” and he doesn’t even know which part he’s talking about.

[mochiwei]

Day 24: Deity

Print available here!

[100frogsinatrenchcoat]

Well god damn she sure is.

[lucabyte]

A belief in Nominative Determinsim

[lizardkingeliot]

Even the planets and stars are blindfolded.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.

[egophiliac]

I feel like F/P/S was still a pretty weird one, even by Lance's standards.

sorry for (in an ironic twist) not doing much Ride Kamens art now that it's actually started; I've been pretty slow going through it and I feel weird posting about things I'm not caught up on! though I'm. definitely gonna have to set aside some time to actually get through episode 13, after what they posted today. (w-what did they do to my Leon) (NOBODY TELL ME I HAVE TO FIND OUT ON MY OWN) (LEOOOOOOOON)

[monkesupreme]

Maybe i SHOULD draft out my ‘Clark is a SuperPlant’ propaganda post

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[eydilily]

Hi hi! Was browsing through ur stuff with search and saw that you were sketching Zeds?? And idk if anybody asked to see them so I am! Pretty please? No pressure at all though! And a single half sketch would make me so so happy. Ur art makes my week honestly. Your shape language, confidence with anatomy and posing, ur character design - i sense that i am in the presence of an art god. Uh that's all! Ty for your service!

this is the sweetest ask ever! i must apologize my zed designs are very . VERY half baked. im not happy with how i draw him just yet so hes likely to change but i threw in a compilation of some of the doodles i have of him so far!!! the left one is from the first vid i ever really watched of zeds, which was the hole / orifice one with tango :'D

[rickybaby]

The BBC has an article titled The 'delicious irony' of the Met Gala's Garden of Time theme, in which it explores the dystopian short story by JG Ballard that has inspired this year’s theme.

As the article describes it, it is a ‘short story in which the last bastion of rich, refined beauty – with its classical music, rare books, and its lovely clothing – is overrun by a working-class mob’. As the author continues on to talk about how dystopian the Met Gala with its $30,000 ticket, is in the context of the global uncertainty and increasing poverty, maybe the author themselves would have failed to imagine just how dystopian the whole event would actually end up being.

As we’re all distracted by the gorgeous clothes and display of wealth happening on our phones, there is a group of pro-Palestinian protestors marching towards the gala - a reminder how once again, Israel is taking advantage of how we’re easily distracted by shiny things to ramp up its attack on Rafah