#sudden frost

[julianpeterscomics]

"The Waste Land" by T. S. Eliot, page 15

After an extended travelling vacation break, I’m back with a new page from my ongoing comics adaptation of “The Burial of the Dead,” the first section of T. S. Eliot’s epochal poem “The Waste Land” (Click on image to enlarge). Next week (hopefully): The exciting (and definitely not dark) grand finale!

[mumblesplash]

The Dungeon is ready for its favorite next victim

[jadecantcreate]

some more once upon a witchlight doodles ! theyre eating popsicles (and it ends…interestingly)

[dragonairice]

Jeremy Heere my little guy the dude ever

[frosteee-variation]

so i started replaying plague of shadows again

[jamethinks]

Twilight getting caught up in the illusion of having a family and then feeling bad for Nightfall since she's so lonely and has no one and no one likes her at all (like Handler can't even get to assign her with any other agents cause they all hate her) so he tries to get her to socialize with the other ladies at her job and tries to get her friends but she's so disinterested and doesn't even try

[ghostickle]

Making chocolate flowers to stick on a cake :)

[earmo-imni]

If I had a nickel for every time I got attached to a blue-eyed pretty boy associated with ice and winter who fell in a hole as a teenager and came out Different^TM who also loves his sibling(s) and other kids and tries to protect them even at the cost of his own safety and is also surprisingly powerful—

I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

(If you can guess both characters(/other character if you find this via a character tag) this is about without looking at my tags I will be impressed)

[aroaceleovaldez]

i think about the fact that Nico’s powers randomly include temperature control way too much. he can make stuff cold! and is apparently immune to cold himself, at least to some degree! why? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯probably ghost reasons! even though it is not inherently tied to ghosts at all and he can just Do That!

[violetshine-appreciation]

im actually rly enjoying river so far. i like all three protags a lot (yes even flamepaw/nightheart) but also i especially love how flamepaw and sunbeams stories r all about relationships and interpersonal conflict while frostpaw has to grapple with The Horrors being pushed onto her every day

[srdcovka]

it's february what the fuck 😭

[cjadewyton]

*comes home from putting down the cat*

*2 of the chooks have died in their sleep; one of who was a little bit sick but the other who was completely fine???*

What the fuuuuuuck

[barbylion]

Gay ppl in my phone, look! My first (1st) attempt at growing sweet potatoes from slips

[dragonairice]

A birthday present for my friend <3

[thebibliosphere]

I’ve had an increase in rainbow aura with my migraines lately (I used to get them once a year, if that. Now, I’ve had it twice in one month) so I’ve become somewhat paranoid whenever something flashes over my vision.

Sometimes, it's just light reflecting off my phone, but it still makes me freeze up in a fear response when it happens because it usually means I’ve got about 20 minutes before I’m in agony.

Apparently, this new paranoia extends into my dreams now, too, because I was running down a long corridor, aware that there was something behind me that I needed to escape, but all of a sudden, in my dream, rainbow zigzags consumed my vision, and I stopped, dead and went, “fuck, migraine.”

That's when I became aware of James Bond/Daniel Craig standing beside me, gun drawn.

“Oh, shit. Do you need to lie down?” he asked while I stared at him.

I said, “What about the thing chasing us?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. If you need to lie down you can lie down. I’ll just kill them.”

I blinked at him for a bit, still winded from running then said, “Sure,” starting to get to my knees, ready to lie down on the cold stone floor beneath us.

“Sure?”

“Yeah. Kill ‘em. I’m just gonna...” I gestured vaguely at the floor. “Be right here, I guess.”

“You can go upstairs, you know,” he said, loading a fresh clip into his gun. “This museum has a hotel on top of it.”

“Oh good,” I said, starting to suspect this was a dream and not Daniel Craig about to murder the people chasing me because I had a migraine. “I’ll do that then.”

So I got back up and started climbing the stairs that looked an awful lot like the stairs in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery, only to abruptly walk into Deathstroke and Nightwing doing their best to kill each other in the corridor of what was clearly a hotel based on the room service tray Nightwing was using to deflect projectiles.

They froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. “I’ve got a migraine,” I said,

“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing said, putting down his tray as both men stepped back to let me walk down the decimated corridor. “We’ll be more quiet.”

“Room 13 is open,” Deathstroke helpfully informed me.

“Is there a body in it?” I asked, now leaning against the wall, less walking along, more sliding.

“Not anymore.”

“Do you need anything?” Nightwing asked, “pain killers? Ice pack?”

I waved them off and made my way into room 13 where David Jason dressed as Detective Jack Frost looked up at me from the book he was reading on the bed.

“This is a dream,” he informed me.

“No it isn’t,” I said, despite knowing it was as I hobbled over to the bed and flopped down beside him. “And this room was supposed to be empty.”

“Open, not empty,” corrected Jack Banon who had taken David Frost’s place, dressed like young Alfie from Pennyworth as he sat beside me on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “There’s a very distinct difference between the two. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Who do you think moved the body?”

“I need to sleep,” I said, “if I can fall asleep, the migraine might go away.”

“That's all right,” he said. “You do that. I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Oh, just one thing before you do.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn't quite see and held it out to me. “You’ll need this.”

“What is it?” I said, my brain doing the dream thing where it refuses to read books or interpret numbers correctly. “I can’t see, what is it?”

“Oft, sorry. Can’t tell you that. More than my job’s worth.”

“You’re job...”

“Yeah.” and thats when he leaned over, stuck me with a needle and said, “Night night.”

And I woke up to the sound of @mothman-etd getting into the shower and Holly Mop wiggling under thre covers with me.

First words out of my mouth were, “What the fuck?”

And then I immediately pulled up Tumblr to write this down before I forget it because what the fuck.

Didn't wake up with a migraine though so... *knock on wood*

[jamessluttythighs]

have - jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 216  - 16 September

James and Sirius’ favourite pastime was to sit on the steps outside the library and pass judgement on those going in to study. Their university was massive so the pool of randos was always plentiful.

“Sick as fuck bag”

“Frosted tips do not work on him.”

“She needs to ditch the scrunchie, that was so 2016”

Oftentimes it just resulted in a big game of smash or pass. Or rather it was a game for James where Sirius just offered his opinion. Sirius was hopelessly in love with his boyfriend, Remus. They had moved in together recently after problems with Sirius’ family. James doesn’t know the full story. Sirius hardly talks about his family. 

“She’s lovely, look at her hair. It’s like a fire.”

“That’s Evans, she’s in my Physics class. Too bad she likes women.”

“Ugh, all the good ones do.”

“Hmmm he’s cute,” James tried again.

“Too many facial piercings for me. Are those snake bites?”

“Hot. Wait no. I’ve found the love of my life. That devastatingly gorgeous, grey-eyed god just behind him.”

“What the fuck Prongs?” Sirius exclaimed, his expression incredulous.

James, startled by this sudden outburst, tore his eyes away from the man in the dark green crop top as he entered the library doors. “What?”

“That’s my little brother!”

“You have a brother?”