#so i plan to fix this

[chloesimaginationthings]

This is how FNAF security breach’s plot started

[feelo-fick]

...i promise i take him seriously i just keep finding shitposts that fit soooo well... i have folder with just shitposts that fit ominously well with him that i keep wanting to draw and then i never get to them HAHAHA

[umblrspectrum]

infinitely funnier visuals in my head, likely because they werent subject to my actual skill level in art

[fruit-sy]

Genius Society 🤓🤓

Just the dudes by themselves below bc why not lol

[13mary-gold]

PART 5

Part 1 | Part 4 < Part 5 > Part 6

[xxplastic-cubexx]

They got divorced again

[girls--complex]

Blood Toy

[flambo19]

I want to draw more hsr characters as cat cakes. Starting with the missing Stellaron Hunters & Astral Express

[tryingahandinholdingapen]

I kind of want to either write or read a time travel fix-it fic where it's Tobirama who travels back in time - BUT it's not Tobirama's POV. He's only a side character. It's mainly focused on Madara and Hashirama. Occasionally Mito, Izuna, Touka

This post got real fucking long so here's a read more

Just a really funny fic where you never quite get to see what Tobirama is doing, because he's not the POV character and the other characters don't know/don't pay attention to what he's up to. But like he is doing important stuff yk he's taking advantage of that future knowledge

For example:

Madara and Hashirama meeting at the river. They've figured out/confessed to their respective clans and are discussing peace and who in their clan might or might not support them

Madara asks about Tobirama and Hashirama is like "Hm? Tobirama? Honestly I don't think he cares about the Senju-Uchiha war at all. He's far too occupied with his own war against the mold youkai."

"....The what?"

(It's not too obvious from Hashirama's POV that Tobirama keeps sneakily fucking up Zetsu's machinations, but what's significantly more difficult to ignore is that Tobirama is increasingly getting ambushed by White Zetsu drones ('mold youkai') - that he eliminates with extreme prejudice and alarming fury)

Just, stuff like that. Main plot is making peace, focused on most of the main family EXCEPT Tobirama (who is otherwise occupied and is thus rarely focused on much) and possibly Izuna. So it's all stuff about battles between the Senju and Uchiha, probably having to deal with internal issues as well (Butsuma/Tajima? Elders? Coup/assassination attempts?) and plotting how they could possibly get peace, it's stuff like negotiating with the Uzumaki + Mito's marriage to Hashirama, it's the Uchiha having to deal with one of their allied clans turning on them (barely noticed sub-plot during this where Tobirama is trying to prevent/rectify the sabotage Zetsu did to the Uchiha's fancy tablet), it's about planning for their eventual village (Hashirama finds notes on plumbing on his desk, written in Tobirama's hand - when the fuck did he have time for that? where did he even learn about plumbing?), it's about trying to get the Daimyo on side, it's about all the politics of trying to get other clans to move into the village too, it's about ah fuck bloodline thieves discovered there were plans for a shinobi village in the works and are doing a frantic attempt to kidnap/'harvest' as much as possible before the bloodline clans are too protected in the planned village so now we have to deal with this fucking trafficking ring...

The sub-plot is an Tobiizu fic where Izuna is (correctly) CONVINCED that Tobirama is Up To Something, and (incorrectly) decided it's malicious to the Uchiha et al, and has taken it upon himself to investigate and Stop Tobirama's Evil Plans At All Costs

Longsuffering Tobirama is far too busy for Izuna's bullshit. He's attempting to prevent/stop/counteract Zetsu's machinations, he's trying to kill Zetsu, he's trying to destroy the big old statue (yk the one I mean, idk what it's called, if it has a name), he's trying to make sure the bijuu are all safe and Won't get sealed into jinchuuruki OR the aforementioned statue...

(he gets distracted for a bit with a side project wherein he decides actually it would be really funny for him to convert the cave the big statue was in, into a place for the kyuubi to hang out. that takes him quite a while since he has to run Zetsu out (so many White Zetsu drones...), destroy the statue, alter the place accordingly, and then find and convince the kyuubi that actually this is a great idea - without the kyuubi just fucking eating him)

...he's trying to make life easier for Madara and Hashirama (oh, Butsuma died from a mysterious illness right before he could enact his incredibly stupid plan against the Uchiha? damn. what a shame. anyway-), he's having to reinvent everything he remembers from last time he lived through this shit because whilst some of those jutsus/techniques/inventions (cough, Edo Tensei, cough) aren't strictly necessary, some of them are VERY MUCH NEEDED

That takes. So much time. Luckily Tobirama doesn't have to do all the research over again, since he remembers it and it's incredibly unlikely anyone will call him out on it (....except Mito with regards to certain seals. he very begrudgingly does research and writes notes and invents plausible-mistakes-that-could-have-been-a-first-attempt) so for the most part he can skip straight to inventing or writing out the final project/knowledge

Some of Zetsu's machinations are incredibly annoying to counter, actually. Like at some point the blasted weed installed/had nearly installed a puppet ruler in Land of Water which, what? Why? Urgh

(Please imagine the absolutely incredible amounts of suspicion and incredulous disbelief and paranoia etc that Izuna is aiming Tobirama's way once he (eventually) discovers that the 'White Demon' is seemingly MESSING WITH POLITICS RE: WHO RULES A FOREIGN NATION?!?!?! is nobody else seeing this!! Izuna is NOT CRAZY look at this bullshit somebody needs to stop him-!)

So long story short Tobirama has a LOT on his plate and he is so so incredibly stressed. Somebody help this man. None of this shit is helped by the fact that

a) Zetsu realised very rapidly that someone was fucking with his plans, and promptly started trying to kill Tobirama off, or failing that, sabotage Tobirama's plans in turn

(thus the years long and increasingly violent 'war against mold youkai' that starts when Tobirama is like, ridiculously young, and Hashirama casually mentions to Madara)

b) Izuna. Just, Izuna. He's fucking obsessed with Tobirama (why) and also the most paranoid person ALIVE it sometimes seems, and he just, won't stop, sticking his nose in Tobirama's business, how does he seem to be fucking EVERYWHERE doesn't he have anything else to do it's not like Izuna even knows the shadow clone jutsu how is he doing this why-

(Izuna like. What could possibly be more important to my rival than ME. And anyway he can't possibly be doing anything GOOD so it's for the best I intervene really this is entirely altruistic-)

c) amongst all this, Tobirama still has to somehow maintain at least a vague, plausibly deniable, belief that he's like. A regular person, involved in only normal things. Because if anyone finds out what he's really doing, or what Zetsu really is, or that he's from the future (IZUNA GET YOUR NOSE OUT OF-), then that introduces just. SO MANY new moving parts and this is already fucking complicated enough as it is, alright? Yeah yeah yeah teamwork makes the dream work, two heads are better than one, etc, but this is essentially a war of information and manipulation between Zetsu and Tobirama and when your main power is info+manipulation the fucking LAST thing you want is more moving parts + more people who could leak info/know your info/unintentionally fuck up your (future) knowledge. No. As much as possible he has to do this on his own. Which means he needs to act like he's doing nothing at all. Actually spend time with his family, be seen running normal missions sometimes, help in clan matters, attend the Senju-Uchiha battles when relevant...

Which is all really really hard when there's only so much time in the day. And Zetsu doesn't have to worry about 'spending time with family' or anything so any time Tobirama spends doing that instead of working towards destroying Zetsu's shit is-

(thank fuck Tobirama still remembers how he invented shadow clones, is all he can say. thank fuck for that)

Over time Tobirama increasingly gets a handle on his terrifyingly long to-do list, which means that 'Izuna is being really annoying and following me almost all the time' moves up his priority list. Eventually Tobirama figures out that the easiest way to get Izuna to stop GETTING IN THE GODDAMN WAY is to just. Humour him. Give him attention. Yes yes you are the most important person in my life and all this inconvenient shit is just stopping me from devoting my energy to fighting you now if you could just put that lady over there under a genjutsu and- (Tobirama trying to get Izuna to help un-fuck Land of Water, it only sort of works)

At some point they fuck because Tobirama's stress levels are at an all-time high and he needs SOME sort of outlet. (Could be entirely sane+consensual (relatively. given who we're talking about) or it could be dubcon) and Izuna actually chills the fuck out for an entire ten hours afterwards. Amazing. Clearly they'll have to do this again

So they do

(yandere4yandere tobiizu for the win. Tobirama starts out normal (again, relatively, considering who we're talking about) whilst Izuna approached everything about Tobirama in a completely sideways obsessive way from the start, but Tobirama gradually starts to also get more obsessive/possessive over time. Like what do you mean the one person who has followed me unquestioningly for years and wants to kill me and kissed me yesterday and volunteered to help me fight a bijuu might LEAVE?? no. fuck you)

(Izuna with a hiraishin marker tattoo-)

anyway back to 'things even further complicating Tobirama's life':

optional letter d) Tobirama is trying so hard to seem normal and not like he's from the future or fighting an evil mold-plant-creature that wants to revive his mom from the moon. So, so hard. But alas, facts work against him

Like, I mean, imagine from an in-universe perspective. There's this guy with really weird colouring, he's known as the 'White Demon', he's better at suiton than anyone else alive and if you've seen him even SLIGHTLY try it's terrifying (think: drowning on dry land, sudden rain/storm/tsunami, blood ripped from a dozen bodies in half as many seconds-), there's? more than one of him? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE and he's so fucking hard to kill but even when you kill him he just. doesn't. die. (friendly reminder that Tobirama is abusing shadow clones like nobody's business in an attempt to stay on top of his insane amount of work to do -> yk, the jutsu he invented, that doesn't work like any other clone jutsu, and that in this timeline he has thus far told nobody about. someone destroys a shadow clone and is incredibly alarmed that theres 1) no corpse 2) the White Demon is STILL ALIVE after they KNOW they killed him?!)

There's also rumours about him fighting/negotiating with bijuu, and quite a few witnesses to his ongoing war with 'mold youkai'

The majority of people (excepting like, people he's close to in his own clan, plus Izuna and possibly a few others) aren't sure he ever sleeps or eats or drinks, and wounds don't seem to last long (healing jutsu from the future + whilst he's sleeping/eating his shadow clone(s) are still out and about)

Then there's the insane amount of knowledge and jutsu and inventions he offers-

Long story short on top of everything else, Tobirama doesn't have to deal with people knowing he's from the future or about the whole issue with Zetsu

....He DOES have to deal with basically svery person in existence being 100% convinced he's not human, though

[queenlucythevaliant]

clean your sword

i. Peter had thought many times about dying for his brother, killing for his sisters, as all oldest children do.

ii. He'd imagined it a hundred times: how if his mother and father were ever killed, he'd get some low-skill job and make sure Lucy's clothes still fit her as she grew. How he'd make fists and fight dirty if Susan was ever threatened. What he'd do if Edmund ever had to flee the country on a dark, windswept night.

iii. Yet when he heard Susan's horn that day, he still froze. Only for an instant, he thought, "this can't be my job, right?"

iv. The blood on his sword shone red when it was all over. When he wiped it on the grass, the stain it left was almost black.

v. They'd put Susan in his arms when he was two years old. Peter didn't remember it, but he knew he'd been waiting for her till then. He wasn't a real person until he was a brother.

vi. And when they walked back to the pavilion, Rhindon bumping Peter's hip, all he could say to his sisters was, "I'm sorry I didn't come faster."

vii. The High King was almost obsessive in the way he cared for Rhindon. When he grew older and required weapons larger than those made for a child, he obsessed over them too.

viii. He told the others, in no uncertain terms, that if it ever came to it in battle, they were to leave him and live. As their brother and high king, he commanded it.

ix. The first time Edmund risked himself for Peter's sake, Peter didn't speak to him for a week.

x. He was oiling his sword when Edmund found him. "See, the thing is, Peter, being brothers goes both ways. If you can love me enough to die for me, than I get to love you just the same."

xi. Peter agreed with him then, to avoid the argument. He was sick of not talking to his brother. Yet privately, he knew that Edmund was wrong. That sacrifice was Peter's special prerogative, as the first-born.

xii. Back in England, his mother noticed that Peter had become more fastidious. She didn't notice that his protective streak has grown - and maybe it hadn't, really.

xiii. It was uncanny, how Peter would always show up just when his siblings needed him. He'd round a corner, and there was Lucy stamping her feet and scowling at a bully. There was Susan, crying, and now his knuckles were bloody.

xiv. He cleaned the blood off in the sink so carefully. The water ran red for a second, and it almost seemed black.

xv. When Caspian asked for the High King's advice, looking so very young, Peter jerked his chin towards the sword a Caspian's hip. "Be ready to use that," he said. "Keep it clean, and close."

xvi. Susan forgot Narnia and she forgot Aslan. Yet selfishly, Peter still hoped that she would never forget how quickly he came when she called.

[molinaskies]

An interesting “side effect” of the canonization of the “classic era” meaning “younger era” is that the classic era now reads as “cute fun times” before the core cast became teenagers/tweens and things got super, super complicated.

Because the characters are “younger,” there’s an air of “little rascal innocence” to everything they do now. The new releases like Mania and Superstars now feel like little throwbacks to the young heroes just learning how to work together and make a difference in the world.

I don’t think this is a bad thing at all.

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand. 

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar. 

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken. 

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-” 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him. 

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement. 

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?” 

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?” 

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?” 

Yet again, he receives no answers. 

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?” 

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest. 

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.” 

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears. 

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher. 

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-” 

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.” 

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore. 

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington. 

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…” 

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?” 

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-” 

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?” 

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue. 

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.” 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…” 

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.” 

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.” 

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.” 

~

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here. 

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room. 

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat. 

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?” 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.” 

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.” 

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?” 

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.” 

(part two is here!)

(also on ao3)

[wackywatchdotcom]

made a tiny comic out of a scene from a thing im planning on writing :D

[blizardstar]

Me when Ashton Greymoore is denied honorable and meaningful self-sacrifice, and now must face the reality that they MUST keep living after it’s All Over

[buglaur]

for a girl whose never built anything from scratch before i'd call this a triumph

[solplease]

clingy