#had No idea where to go with this

[dellephone]

post-apocalypse + landoscar

Oscar has to rendezvous with Mark in an hour when he runs into someone in the run-down convenience store. They stare at each other for a moment, both on edge, neither keen to make the first move. The other boy is attractive— he looks about the same age, although he could probably use a good shower. Oscar imagines he's in a similar state. A good zombie apocalypse will do that to a man.

The other boy tilts his head, eyes the gun on Oscar's back. Says, "Find anything good?"

Why would he answer that truthfully? Oscar shakes his head no. “You?"

The guy flashes a crooked smile. "Me?"

Oscar doesn't respond, keeps his expression unimpressed. Although his cheeks feel a bit warmer. They both fall silent for a moment, still neither moving to leave. Oscar's the next to speak. It's his turn, or something. "You based near here?" Almost kicks himself for such a stupid question.

The boy's eyes narrow. He shrugs, "It's all nearby in the grand scheme of things, right?"

"Right," well. That's about the kind of answer he expected, albeit a bit stupider.

"You?"

Oscar feels a smile twitch at the edge of his mouth. "Not really." Oscar looks away, starts feeling the itch to leave. Would have already, if he was smarter. And less. Curious. Or something. "Well," Oscar shifts his feet. "I've got," gestures one arm toward the door, "you know."

It's quiet for a moment, the other boy nods before blurting, "I'm Lando." Then winces. At telling an unknown his name or the whole awkward encounter.

Oscar, still half ready to leave, settles slightly back, "Oscar."

"Nice name."

"Thanks. You too, Lando," tastes the name on his tongue, wonders how familiarity would change it. Remembers not to dwell on unnecessary things.

It's quiet for another moment. Oscar isn't foolish enough to stick around any longer. "Maybe I'll see you. Around."

"Yeah," the boy Lando nods. Stays put. Watches Oscar as he leaves.

Later, when he meets with Mark at the rendezvous, Oscar conveniently forgets to mention that he ran into someone. And told them his name.

[ugli-ly]

I started Disco Elysium barely knowing anything about the game, I assumed when people called Harry Du Bois a wet pathetic freak they were exaggerating. You know, the blorbofication of a middle aged man.

But no. I'm only 4 hours in and I had to make him take off his pants to clear some areas in this game? For a second I was genuinely afraid it'd be possible to get a Game Over screen bc I thought I was killing him by making him stand up too fast. The guy is almost completely incoherent. He vomited twice. Tbh it might be possible to make him meet the criteria for almost every disorder in the DSM-5, if the player so wishes

[kettlefire]

Muscle Memory (DpxDc)

Jason barely remembered getting back to his safe house or even finding his way to bed. The night had been so tiring, so busy, and so many parts of his body hurt.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Drifting off into dreamland for some much need sleep.

That was until a noise stirred him up from his sleep. It was a soft creak of one of his many loose floorboards.

It was in a flash that Jason was up, eyes still heavy with sleep, and a gun held to his thigh as he exited his bedroom. The soft light coming from his bathroom was the first hint.

When he pushed open the bathroom door, the sight before him had him holstering his weapon. Black hair, blue eyes, and blood. That's all Jason needed to see.

Jason would swear he wasn't still half asleep, that he knew this wasn't one of his brothers. In reality, still sluggish from a hard night and sleep deprivation, Jasin's brain had automatically assumed it was one of his baby brothers.

As he immediately settled into patching up the wounds, holding back questions for now. It wouldn't be the first time one of them came to him for aid when they didn't want Bruce to know they were hurt yet.

It was pure muscle memory as Jason worked. Yes, he didn't like the injuries, reminding himself to ask which rogue did this in the morning.

Now wasn't the time for an interrogation. Not with the barely concealed tears in those eyes, or the dark bags that decorated beneath them.

He barely grumbled for the teen to take the couch, reminding that there were extra blankets in the hallway closet. Dropping a few pills into the boy's hand to help with the pain he was surely in.

Jason left the mess in the bathroom, leaving it a problem for more awake him. He waved the boy off when he tried to speak, telling him they'll talk in the morning.

In the end, Jason was glad to finally face plant back into his bed. Barely bothering to curl up under the covers before sleep took over once again.

When morning came, Jason almost forgot about letting one of his brother's crash in his place. Stumbling out of his bedroom to immediately notice the lump on his couch.

He put a pot of coffee on, grabbing his phone, ready to let Bruce know that whoever came to him last night was safe and sound.

Except, when Jason moved over to confirm who it was, he finally noticed. This wasn't one of his brothers. And last he heard, Bruce hadn't taken in any new strays.

Jason stood over the sleeping boy, phone in one hand, and mind figuring out what to do. His mind replaying the half-asleep memories from last night.

It made sense, now that he thought about it. The boy had seemed so scared, so surprised that Jason was helping. The boy hadn't done anything either by the looks of it.

He didn't seem to have taken anything or even snooped. The boy seemed to have just crashed on the couch like Jason had told him to. He didn't come here to rob him or cause trouble. The kid had broken into his safe house only to raid his first aid kit.

The kid had broken into his safe house only to raid his first aid kit.

Well, Jason wasn't about to put Alfred's teachings to shame by being a horrible host either.

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[andstuffsketches]

finally watched Reign of the Supermen

[sparrow-hawk]

'Tis tradition. Chosen, she is, by the Gods-

—No! You chose her.

[noir-ish-bee]

Luigi: Showtime! // Peach's Castle

[arinmoss]

he's got half a head

[happi-dreams]

just posting these because i desperately want to be done with them now —

but yay !! smiling critters !! and doey !!! doey !!! wahoo !!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A procession of confessions.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[shares-a-vest]

cw: smoking. also the brief contemplation of drinking and driving (Steve and Eddie would be like this, but don't do it kiddos!!)

Ever since Dustin made the mistake of begging one of his older male friends to help him find the other, his life has been reduced to, well...

Shit like this.

Standing in the middle of Hawkins High's parking lot like a lost puppy, lingering like a wet, rotten fart in Mike's basement as he waits for Steve and Eddie to finish up their conversation. A little chat that must be oh-so-hilarious this evening judging by all the chuckling Steve is doing.

And the fact that Eddie is allowing this new friendship to encroach on Hellfire? Well, that part is just plain weird.

He cut the night off early and pushed ahead of all the boys to skip on his merry way to the Beemer, where Steve was waiting with a big stupid smile that Dustin quickly discovered was for Eddie and Eddie only.

Dustin must have been a fool to ever think it was a good idea for Steve and Eddie to become friends. Oh, how he regrets that crisp spring morning!

Well, maybe he doesn't regret the whole thing. Y'know, saving the world and keeping Max and Eddie alive, and all that.

Dustin purses his lips. Because screw this. Eddie should be more grateful.

He steps forward, narrowing his eyes as he hopes to grab the attention of his traitorous, rude friends.

"Can I help you with something?" Eddie asks after a long moment of nothing but dead-eyed staring back at him like he's the idiot.

"I thought you were driving me home?" Dustin raises a brow to Steve.

But Steve doesn't notice or say anything as Eddie reaches into his jacket pocket to retrieve a lighter and a pack of smokes.

Dustin scrubs a hand over his face. Jesus Christ, he is going to be standing here for hours now!

He should have just taken a chance with Ted Wheeler's snoozefest talk-back radio. Or risked his precious life in Grant's car. Maybe he should have found better friends in the first place. Maybe he should have stopped this friendship from blossoming months ago when Eddie was still half-dead in the hospital.

"I thought you quit smoking?" he says, folding his arms with a disapproving huff.

Eddie makes a face at him as if such a suggestion is utter nonsense. Steve meanwhile, plucks a cigarette from the pack, pauses and glares.

"Was your mom within earshot when I said that?"

"Yes!"

Eddie lights up his own cigarette and then reaches for Steve's. Steve meets him halfway, smirking with a look in his eyes that Dustin cannot help but think is some kind of knowing glance. Great – they must be doing this on purpose!

"Tell your mom we smoke and I'll kick your ass, Henderson," Eddie mumbles around a puff, "We have reputations to uphold."

Steve nods, "Respectable."

Ironically, that oxymoron is when Dustin catches the streetlight reflecting off a can. A beer can. One of a six-pack sitting on the hood of Steve's car. His friend must notice (or more likely, Steve's pea-brain remembers the existence of the beverages) because he quickly straightens up, snaps one free and offers it to Eddie.

Eddie giggles and twirls a lock of his hair before taking the beer. Goddamnit, these two are so irritating!

"What is this, a fucking tailgate?" Dustin shrieks.

"Shut it," Eddie shoots back before he takes – probably too many – desperate slurps.

"Relax, worry wort. I'll get you home before I drink anything."

Eddie holds up his beer and jingles it in Steve's face, taunting him. Steve stops to ponder the temptation – he truly is operating at a snail's pace here! – as he glances between Eddie, the Beemer and the now-five pack. So much for being 'respectable'.

Eddie takes another sip and belches, "Come on, Stevie, let's get the kiddo home."

Steve sighs and pushes himself up from the hood of his car.

"Finally! Thank you!" Dustin sighs, exasperated, "Y'know, none of this was supposed to happen!"

But Steve just pushes past him, spinning his keys on his finger as Eddie scoops up the beers, cradling them like they are his babies.

"Watch your shoes when you get in the car."

"And I'm picking the music."

[mediumgayitalian]

"Don't cry."

"...I'm not."

"Omigods. Will. Don't cry."

"I'm not!"

But there are welled up tears making his eyes looking huge, and even as he bites it his lip still trembles. In seconds there is the slightest of sniffles.

Nico groans, slumping against the handle of the grocery cart. A WASPy mother glares at him in passing. He glares back and sics an errant soul onto her monstrosity of a hairdo for good measure.

"Will," he groans, metal bar digging into his forehead, "Will, it's a lemon."

"I know," Will sniffles, bravely. "Just -- leave it. Let's go."

Nico moves his arm, just enough to watch his too-tall over-empathetic dumbass best friend try and fail to pull himself together in the, and Nico cannot emphasize this enough, very public grocery store in the suburbs of Long Island, where people stare.

And, like.

The staring is not too unusual.

Will is in cutoff shorts and flip-flops. It's early March. Climate change is not that bad yet. The two of them are wearing neon camp t-shirts -- Nico's good, goth t-shirts have been stolen from him to be 'washed' -- and are both, Nico must emphasize again, fifteen years of age, with a grocery cart each full to the actual brim with Pop Tarts, Twizzlers, medical supplies, socks, and silly string. Will is approximately nineteen feet tall. They make a scene. That is a fair evaluation.

But rare is the day where Nico cannot quell the stares by reflecting hellfire into his eyes. Mortals usually flee in terror or at least walk away traumatized. Today they aren't even looking.

"Will," he says, as gently as he can manage. Will looks over, after a minute, and his bright eyes look so glassy and miserable that whoa, hey, Nico can manage a whole lot gentler than he thought he could, can't he. He reaches up and pats a palm against Will's wet cheek, swiping a thumb under his eyes. "Do you. Want." He glances over at the lone, half-dried up lemon on the floor by the produce baskets. "Would you like to take the lemon home with us.

"Yes," says Will quietly. Nico's hand falls away and Will wipes his face, crouching down to scoop it up. He hesitates before putting it in the cart, cradling it against his chest. "It's just." He looks at Nico through his eyelashes. Nico tries to smile encouragingly. Based on the immediate tears and sobbing of a child directly behind Will's shoulders, he is unsuccessful. "If we don't take it, no one will, you know."

"Yes," agrees Nico slowly. "Due to the fact that it is garbage."

Will snatches his hand back like Nico had smacked it, glaring hard. Nico is really starting to consider those bipolar pamphlets Kayla left pointedly on the Apollo table. Yeesh.

"It's not -- garbage! Just because -- just because something isn't as good as everything else doesn't mean it's garbage!"

...Or not.

Ah.

"Ah," says Nico. He clears his throat. "Ah."

Some cultures attribute tact and gentleness to his father -- Death accepts all, and in facts invites all, to reside with Him. He will take your hand and guide you to whence you have never travelled, where you have no kin. He will speak to you in your shock of your life and your triumphs. He, when you have no one, is your compassionate, voluble friend.

Hazel inherited all that, unfortunately. Nico got the dead-eyed stare and fruitiness.

"Uh," he tries, anyway, "if you were a rotten lemon, I would take you home."

Will looks at him skeptically. "You would?"

"Y -- uh, yes. I would make." He wracks his brain. "I would use you to clean surfaces."

"...Oh."

"Yes. Like -- chopping boards, and the like." He makes a karate chop motion with his hand. He immediately takes the hand and shoves it into the untraveled depths of his pocket, which is a challenge due to the fact that it took him forty minutes to paint his jeans on this morning, and vows to cut its quisling digits off as quickly as possible. Why is he alive.

He is grateful at least that his friend is about as stupid as he is.

"That would be a good use for me if I was a rotting lemon," Will agrees. He looks down at the rotting lemon cradled in his hands. "Maybe we will use you to clean."

"Yes," Nico says, gentle coaxing. "Now let's put the lemon in the cart, okay? We're almost done. We just need the nineteen quarts of ice cream Cecil paid me ninety dollars not to disclose to Chiron. Let's go."

"'Kay."

Garbage lemon safely laid among a braid of licorice packages, dead centre in the cart, they move on. The stares follow them, but Will at least does not seem to mind -- used to it, veteran camper that he is -- and slides his arm through Nico's crooked elbow. Nico takes that as the opportunity it is to steer him away from the cake that a nefarious teenager has pushed to the floor, lest that set him off next. They have only minutes until they make it to the cash register, where Nico will pay for whatever Will is watching him scan, and are home free.

"Hey, Nico."

Nico hums, eyeing the self-checkout line. "Yeah?"

"Would we still be friends if I was a worm?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

[taffywabbit]

so like. at what point are we going to stop listening to game companies saying "the game was poorly received and didn't meet our sales targets, and that's why we're removing it from storefronts and taking down all the servers mere months or even weeks after release" for titles that had a long expensive development, were barely marketed, and nobody knew they'd even released until after they heard they were getting shut down and couldn't be played/purchased anymore?

I feel like the prevailing takeaway for anyone who doesn't just conclude "yeah, game was pretty mid, makes sense to me" has usually been "this company just has unreasonably impossible sales expectations and treats every project like a failure if it doesn't print a trillion dollars". but these ARE allegedly experienced business execs who aren't complete idiots, and after this most recent debacle with Concord I'm starting to wonder if a bunch of these "games getting wiped out of existence when they underperform instead of just being allowed to persist as they are and maybe improve with time" cases in recent years might be more of a Warner-Discovery type situation, like nuking an entire animated series or film that was worked on for years and preventing it from being sold because it has to be officially unprofitable for the company to use it as a tax write-off. I look at a game that was worked on for 8 years and only made available for 2 weeks, and it's hard not to see the parallels.

great work, AAA games industry, really normal and sustainable stuff you're doing over there as usual

[rennelelorren]

Rin and her absolutely platonic love for her best friend

Take 1:

Yes, she likes his face all worked up and flushed. What's wrong with that.

Take 2:

(Why this art look like a mem "-we consent –I don't")

She could have said "you should smile more, babygirl" aka the worst pick up line ever and the scene wouldn't change at all.

Take 3:

She would call him a "good boy" and it's absolutely no one business.

... Take 3:

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Marvel Meow (2021), Nao Fuji | Professor X and Magneto

Bonus:

[kyuhudraws]

,,,bird courtign