#this got VERY out of hand!!!

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[crtastrophe]

AND THOUGH I CAN'T QUITE PERCEIVE IT, I CAN TELL IT'S THERE BY THE WAY IT'S NOT QUITE THERE

(drew this entirely in Kid Pix 4!)

[elphabasthropp]

2.08 | 3.04

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 187

Clockwork would openly admit that he couldn’t see Danny’s timelines. Not since the moment he stepped into that portal and became something more. A child of Infinity, of the very Realms itself. 

But he’ll also admit that it always meant that the child surprised him all the time. This just happened to be a startling surprise, and an admittedly amusing one, even if Danny was openly complaining about the situation. 

“It’s not fair! You have to be able to fix this, right? Right?!” the ghostling, quite literally now, practically yanked at his cloak. “Clockwork, I was going to graduate, I can’t be two! Please, you’re the master of Time, you can fix this right!?” 

No, no he could not, seeing as young Daniel was in fact, immune to timeline machinations, doubly so for his own. To the ghostling’s open distress, which he did his best to soothe. What he could do instead, was stop time in his home dimension, and instead let him age back up again. 

Which the young halfa wasn’t happy about, but it was the best thing they had, so Clockwork supposed he had a ghostling now. A tiny adorable ghostling who kept pouting each time his much younger body had any sort of effect on his behavior. 

He’d never exactly had a ghostling before, nevermind one who was part human, but he would admit he honestly was enjoying it. Most time was spent alone, something he hadn’t realized until Danny ended up crashing into his unlife. 

Honestly he would openly admit that he absolutely adored his little ghostling. Who was now around four, at least physically, and had gotten into the adorable habit of curling up in the pendulum in his chest. Which was honestly the safest spot in Long Now, he’d admit. 

The singular issue however, with this habit, was that when someone attempted to summon him, they got his ghostling as well. And well, normally he could very much control himself for these summonings that happened every few hundred or so years, but well. There was a reason why even the Observants had stopped popping in the moment they realized he had a ghostling. 

Nesting ghosts do not mess around should they feel one is messing with their very vulnerable child, and really it’s not his fault the mortal cultists woke up and startled Danny. Perhaps deleting them from the timeline was a bit too far, if the other mortals rapid paling was to go by, but oh well. 

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A fierce duel commences!

[starry-bi-sky]

No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

He's shaking. His heart is burning in his chest, pounding like a jackhammer against his ribs, and there's a trembling, aching rage building beneath his tongue and pressing against his teeth.

In his hands, his fingers tense and wrists locked, the article reads in big, black font: JOKER LOCKED IN ARKHAM ASYLUM AGAIN!

Danny shouldn't feel so angry about this, this is a good thing. Gotham doesn't have to deal with him for another few months at the least. He should feel relieved, a little more at peace.

He is not.

He cannot swallow the fury thudding behind his eyes, the burning white heat searing a deeper hole in his chest. A searing green filling static in his ears in the way only the rage of the restless dead can have.

How is he going to kill him now?

Arkham may be the only asylum in America made entirely of tissue paper, but it's still an asylum. There are cameras, guards, other patients resting inside. Danny can think of a million different ways to sneak in and kill Joker, but someone will hear his screaming.

It'd have to be rushed.

He doesn't want it to be rushed.

It's a cruel thought. Cruel and cold and merciless, but Danny doesn't feel an ounce of shame, not an ounce of guilt, for it. He wants to be alone with the Joker when he kills him, that's all he wants. In Arkham, you are never alone.

He forces his anger to bubble back down into his chest, stuffing it between his heartstrings and his ribs like a blanket you're trying to bunch up into a corner. It sizzles and burbles. The static begins to fade out into a high-pitched ringing; it sounds like distant screaming.

Danny is still trembling, but he can think a little clearer now.

He can wait.

He can wait. He can wait. He can wait. He canwait. Hecanwait. Hecanwait.

He can wait.

He's waited five years for this. He can wait one more week. One more month. One more year. However long it takes for the Joker to break back out, Danny can wait.

And when the Joker does, inevitably, break out.

Danny uncrinkles his fingers around the edges of the newspaper, loosens his limbs just enough so he can pay for it.

He'll be waiting.

The dead, after all, have all the time in the world.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

space sweepers but they're delivery people and are at no point on screen through the entire movie

[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie led a weird life.

This was something he welcomed, given half the things people thought were “weird” was just his fashion sense or preference for table top games.

Small potatoes to the larger things in life, really. 

Of course, this was before he found out there was an evil version of Hawkins underneath him. 

Now Eddie did things that would previously sent his old self into a fucking coma. 

His friendship with Steve Harrington for example.

Dude saved his life and bridal-style carried him out of literal hell.

It’d have been rude not to be friendly with the guy after that, even if they weren’t both  members of a very exclusive and bloody club, with trauma and secrets that really only a select few people would ever understand.  

Sleeping over at Harrington’s half the week also made perfect sense, and Eddie will argue that to his very grave. 

It turns out nightmares suck, and waking up screaming all the time sucks even more.

Something everyone involved in this entire escapade (and all the ones prior) knew.

Because more bodies means more eyes to look out for you, and feeling safe means you might actually sleep for an hour, they all got used to showing up at each other's houses at odd hours of the night.

Pulled one another out of nightmares and got comfortable with the fact that they slept better, together.

Steve’s house in particular is typically void of both adults and annoying freshmen, which meant it's the most comfortable place for a lot of people to crash together. 

(Sometimes the annoying freshmen do show up and maybe Eddie is also a little weirdly overprotective of the whole Party now, and alright fine, he enjoys all their company, even Erica's--but who's keeping track? 

He isn’t. 

He’s busy arguing all this is perfectly normal.) 

Sleeping in Steve’s bed is where things get a little tricky. 

See, when it was more than just Robin and Eddie crashing at Casa De Harrington, they all sleep in the living room. 

Steve drags out some fancy blow up mattress (an air mattress what the fuck) and changes the couches around and long story short his fucking living room is more comfortable than Eddie’s own bed has ever been. 

But when it's just Eddie and Robin, they retire to Steve’s stupid huge bed, so large the damn thing takes up most of his equally massive room. 

(“This isn’t weird right?” He’d asked Robin once, hanging his head over the edge of the bed while Steve did--whatever it was he was doing to his hair in the bathroom. 

Robin, who was busy rifling through Steve’s drawers for a shirt to steal, stopped and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Not unless you make it weird, Munson.” She’d told him, and well, that was all the permission he needed.

They slept together in tight groups, where it was easiest to defend each other in case of Upside Down fucking monster attack.

Case closed.) 

Sleeping in Steve Harrington’s bed, without the buffer that was Robin Buckley, is where the lies started.

Because it was weird. 

It was incredibly weird, and did guys even do this solo?

Eddie hadn’t. If one of Hellfire or the band stayed over, it was a strictly floor/bed/couch situation unless there were more than three of them, and that was within Eddie’s small ass trailer. 

Sure they piled up if they had to, but it wasn't like it was with Steve. All tangled limbs and being right up in each others space, no pillow or blanket or anything as a buffer.

Hell, Eddie had woken up getting spooned or doing the spooning more than once, and no one said shit.

How Steve made it sound so genuinely normal was beyond him. 

Not that Eddie argued about it.

 Not the first time of the fifth or the twenty-fifth, and not even after Robin pointed out he was rooming with Harrington more than she was.

Because he just slept better, next to Steve.

(Steve apparently, felt the same.

Or must have given it kept happening.)

It wasn’t like Steve didn’t crash at Eddie’s trailer either--his parents had come right home upon hearing about the earthquake, and had been a bit more present after running into the joint forces of Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers in the hospital lobby. 

Add in Wayne’s own Disapproving Stare (TM) and the town being up each other’s ass to try and keep it together, and suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were hanging out in Hawkins that much more.

(Steve seemed to think it was more to save face rather than because they actually gave a shit, which Eddie felt was obvious but he wasn’t gonna say it. 

“They’re trying I think. They just--they’ve never encountered anything like this.” He’d said, a little frown line pinching his eyebrows together.

“Stevie, no one has faced anything like what we have. Your parents, on the other hand, are only dealing with what they think is the aftermath of an earthquake and plenty of people have seen those.”

Steve had sighed. Stared a little helplessly, like he knew he was making excuses but couldn’t help himself.

 “I know, Eds. I know.”) 

Them being home more meant Steve was at Eddie’s more--on grounds that Robin’s parents were fine with him hanging out but drew some kind of weird not--very--hippy line at him sleeping over.

Which was fine.

Great even, the Eddie and Steve had never slept better! Sucks to be Robin, who had to call up Nancy Wheeler if she wanted to share.

All this was, was trauma buddies being guy pals who were very comfortable with each other due to said fucking trauma. 

Steve used to help Eddie take a piss for fucks sake, and according to literally everyone else involved in the Vecna related mess, this was their fourth go round with supernatural shit.

Chances of it all happening a fifth time seemed kinda high, even if the gate was supposedly closed and the psychotic meat puppet madman six feet underground. 

Sharing was caring, and caring was not letting your new buddy you saved fight off monsters alone if they popped back up.

Plus he and Steve spent a huge amount of time together, almost as much time as Steve did with Robin.They were all in each other’s back pockets to the point that Eddie’s band was used to it, with Gareth even starting to make secret lover jokes about it all. 

(The dick.)

They were just really good friends dealing with the shit life had dealt them. That was it, that was the whole ass story.

Eddie’s growing gay crisis aside.

So no. It wasn't all the time with Harrington that sent Eddie over the edge. Nor was it the bed sharing, rapidly dropping boundaries, or even the fact that Steve knew where Eddie kept his condoms (An accident Eddie wouldn't ever live down, holy shit.)

No, what sent him into an absolute, hair tearin' meltdown, was the day Steve woke up, rolled over, kissed Eddie right on the lips and then went to make breakfast.

No good morning, no how ya doin.

Steve just left Eddie there, clutching onto the sheets for dear life and mildly terrified he’d just hallucinated the entire encounter.

(Hell, maybe the whole thing was hallucinated. 

Maybe he died in the Upside Down and this was some sort of sick version of the afterlife. 

Eddie pinched himself, and when that wasn’t enough, bit his own knuckle. Both hurt, which was unfortunate, because death seemed preferable to dealing with life right then.)  

Unfortunately for him, Steve did not run back into the room with a myriad of excuses, which meant Eddie had to experience the horrifying ordeal of getting out of bed, putting his clothes on and going into the trailer’s kitchen--because Steve hadn’t even had the decency to wreck Eddie’s life at his own house. 

‘What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck--’

Heart galloping, Eddie put on his big boy pants--metaphorically and physically--before stepping out into the kitchen and confront his friend.

Who was cooking shirtless, without a care in the world. 

It still took him a full thirty seconds to get his mouth to work.

“Hey Stevie? Do you want to tell me what that was about?” 

"Hmm?” Steve replied. His eyes were hooded, hair mussed in a way Eddie knew only a few select people had ever seen it.

He looked half asleep, and proved it a second later when he reached twice for the one of the two mugs on the counter and missed entirely.

Eddie swung in, grabbing one and offering it out for Steve to pour coffee into, before swapping it out for the other mug once Steve was done. 

Stayed in Steve’s space even as the former jock fussed with adding in milk and sugar and whatever else he was feeling, working up the courage to say something.

Anything. 

“Uh, the--just now?” Eddie squeaked. He coughed to clear his voice, trying desperately to act normal.

Look normal.

Like he hadn't just been kissed by the guy he had absolute worst crush on.

Steve, bless him, didn’t tease him. Just shoved one of the mugs into Eddie’s hands and kept the other for himself.

Took a nice, slow sip, adam's apple bobbing and Eddie quickly averted his gaze, staring firmly into his coffee. 

“What happened?” Steve asked a second later, sounding a touch more clear, and not at all like he was experiencing deep regret, or dodging the question, or even aware of what had happened. 

Eddie had two seconds to realize that hell, maybe Steve really didn’t know, before his mouth once betrayed him. 

“When you kissed me?” And motherfucker, for once, Eddie wished he would think before he fucking spoke.

(Wayne had always told him he'd come to regret it. He just hadn't thought it'd be like this!)

“Oh.” Steve said, very anticlimatically. “I didn’t realize I did that, sorry.” 

Eddie's entire body twitched.

One long shudder, like it was rejecting the very words coming out of Steve's mouth.

“You didn’t,” He tried, voice dry and cracking. He realized his hands were shaking and promptly put his mug down before he dropped it. “You just--what, did that on instinct?”

“...Kinda, yeah.” Steve said and why the hell did he sound entirely unphased!? 

Was this some kind of weird jock thing? Did the basketball team all wake up together and kiss each other on the mouth?! Did they think it was some sort of straight--guy haha joke, or fucking--Eddie didn’t even know what, because Eddie was too busy spiraling. 

“Steve I’m gay.” He blurted out, mouth now firmly ahead of his brain. 

He instantly wanted to take it back.

Grab the words with his hands, and cram it into his mouth.

Maybe Steve was only cool with it if he thought Eddie was straight.

Hell, maybe he fucking did it while sleep walking or something and Eddie was the one being weird about it, or he--fuck, really did imagine it and, and--!

“I know.” Steve told him, interrupting Eddie’s catastrophizing entirely. 

“You know?” Eddie stared at him, feeling like the world had fallen out from underneath his feet. “How do you know!?” 

He actually had a pretty good idea of how Steve knew, considering they were both friends with Robin, but while Robin was comfortably out to both of them, Eddie was not. 

Had not in fact, even confirmed that he was queer to Robin herself, though he’d hinted at it plenty and shared more than one inside joke.

Didn’t think Robin had outed him or anything, but more that, well…

Steve was smarter than the kids made him sound, that’s for damn sure. 

“Honestly dude? You’re not subtle.” Steve told him and at least he finally sounded serious.

Like this was a much needed conversation and not some weird tangent Eddie was on. 

“The handkerchief, that triangle pin that you and Robin both have, the fact that you once jumped in my pool to get away from Dustin asking about you're dating life."

He rolled one hand in an etc. all gesture, before adding;  “Also there was that time you and Robin got absolutely smashed on my dad’s whiskey and argued about who the hottest Rocky Horror actor was.” 

Eddie’s mouth sprang open to defend himself, but absolutely nothing came out. 

When had they even watched Rocky Horror together!? 

“You kept insisting the guy who played Brad was hotter than the one who played Rocky, remember? I thought Robin was going to strangle you because she like, adores Susan Sarandon.” Steve continued, like they were having one of their playful little spats and not--not discussing Steve kissing him!

“You guys asked me to tie-break,” He added slowly,  like he was trying to jog Eddie’s memory. “and I told you guys I thought both were hot.” 

Which--oh.

Oh.

“Okay so you’re…?” 

Not going to kill me is what Eddie intended to say, but Steve took it as another question entirely, and answered with a nod and a hum. 

Which--okay. 

Steve Harrington was bisexual, and also already thought he’d come out to Eddie. 

He could roll with that. 

That was not the problem, at all. 

The problem was; “That doesn’t explain the kiss though?!” 

Steve finally put his coffee down, huffing out exasperatedly. “I  wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t realize I did it, man. We share a bed a lot and I guess I wasn’t--I must have--” 

And now, finally, Steve was getting embarrassed. A red flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck, vivid even on his tan skin. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and Eddie knew purely from the sheer amount of time they spent together that it was a self-soothing action. 

“I guess I’m sorry?”

It came out less as a question and more as an accusation-- which Steve himself seemed to hear because he immediately corrected it with a far less sassy and much more sincere; “No I am--I’m sorry.” 

None of which answered why Steve had kissed him. 

“You didn’t think I was Nance, did you?” Eddie asked, because apparently he just couldn't stop while he was ahead.

Maybe he should have died. It'd be better for both of them, considering he was doing about as good as kicking Steve while he was down.

Steve, the guy who had saved Eddie's life and was now one of his best friends and here Eddie was, dragging this out of him like a moron.

“No.” Steve said immediately. Reflexively, almost, firm and sure. “I am very aware you’re not Nancy.”

‘Let it go Eddie. Don’t make it weird Eddie. Just laugh it off and say okay--’

“Then who did you think it was? I mean you said it was instincts and like, I'm not stupid. I know I can be confused for Nance in the low light, it's happened before but--"

Stupid, stupid, stupid! 

“I didn’t think. I knew it was you." Steve interrupted. "I knew I was kissing you, Eddie."

Oh god, just kill him now.

Hell he'd even take a Vecna death! With all the gross gore and the shitty villain monologue!

"This morning I was tired, and I was sleepy, and I apparently skipped the part in my head were I asked you out and we were dating.” Steve deadpanned at him.

Eddie gaped, mind shattered and rapidly reforming.

It was like the universe was recreating itself, only this time all the stars had aligned and his wish had come true and some Disney director had taken control of his life--

“But I get it if I’m not your type." Steve was saying, because Steve was perfect.

And Kind.

And wanted to date Eddie.

"I’m sorry if I made things uncomf-mmphhh!” 

‘Mmmph’ because Eddie had flung himself at Steve, face first, the second "I asked you out and we were dating" had finished processing.

(Which was alarming fast, considering he'd been struggling all morning.)  

‘D--ff--ing?” 

Steve laughed in his mouth as Eddie tried to talk while kissing, pulling away slightly and holding his chest back with a hand when Eddie tried to chase him anyway. 

“Yes, dating. As in, would you, Eddie Munson, like to go on a date with me, Steve Harrington?” 

“Yes.” Eddie’s mouth said. 

At least this time it and his brain were on the same wavelength. 

“Yes I very much would.” He put some weight into his lean, making it harder for Steve to hold him back. “I think you can tell, by the way I'm trying to kiss you. Which you are not doing."

He pouted, and refused to be embarrassed about his behavior.

Steve laughed, and he might have said something like “God you changed up fast” except he had given in and let Eddie close again, and his words were now being swallowed down.

Eddie's life was weird alright, and now it was weird even by his own standards, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

[omaano]

Echo with his tooka best buddy (and an extra) for @phantasm-echo 's DTIYS 🩵💙❤️

[i-like-forcefem]

When browsing through the wares of a newly opened magic shop you passed by an item that caught your interest, a massive mirror

You peaked inside expecting to see yourself, but instead you saw, a girl? About your height, quite pretty, good taste in fashion… Maybe your mom when she was younger?

It feels weird, in a good way, to see this girl follow all your movements, you couldn’t help but smile, and her smile is radiant

You felt an odd sense of relief… until you looked down to see that, you’re you, of course you are

Why do you feel so sad?

…

“Quite the item isn’t it?”, the Witch tending the shop noticed your interest and started talking to you “a magic mirror that shows you what you’d look like if you were born the opposite sex”

You stare into it

Why do you feel this deep dread?

“But that’s not all it does!” The witch continues “want to see a magic trick?” The witch asks laying a hand on your back

You’re curious to see where this is going, so you nod your head

In one swoop the witch pushes you against the mirror and as you brace yourself to slam into it, stumbling on your feet across the floor, you find yourself slamming into the witch face first

She laughs “I probably didn’t need to push that hard”

As you lay on the ground you feel different, you look as you prepare to push yourself up from the ground you notice your hands… are they smaller?

As you get it up and oriented yourself you glance at the mirror, still the same showing girl you, but how did you get turned around did… did you get

“Sorry” the witch says as her laughter days down “that’s the first time I’ve pushed someone through a mirror, should’ve seen that coming”

You look down and see the dress you’re wearing

“Now cutie” the witch claps her hands, and jumps up! She has a grin you don’t trust “I hoped you enjoyed the trick! If you ever want to become a guy again And I hope you have some savings! Gender-bending magic is quite expensive!”

You stumble back, you can’t turn back? The mirror is showing yo- Girl You, not the real Guy You, so… that’s a no go? You’re way to poor for anything

“But don’t worry cutie, we pay quite well here and just so happen have an opening for a maid and I can assure you, you’ll look just adorable in the uniform”

[drenched-in-sunlight]

saying this as respectfully as possible but. Do not put fandom content creators on a pedestal. We are also just fans contributing to a community just as you are. We have boundary on our own work and that’s it. What I say is not and should not be considered sth the whole fandom should listen to. I’m just a normal ass person ranting about things on my blog. If it does not have a fandom tag for others to engage in, do not make it out to be me trying to start fights or addressing the whole community. Because it’s not.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, my art, my lore talk, is biased. I’ve never tried to hide that I view Marika a certain way and will always develop my theory following that base assumption.

Aside from translation stuffs and pointing out in-game items, everything else I say you can look at it, agree or disagree, and move on to form your own opinions. Just because I draw stuffs doesn’t mean you get to saddle me with responsibilities about managing fandom expectations. What the hell? I’m a fan artist, I’m the last person who you should look at for “leaderism” (?) WHAT?

I can and will be a hater in my own space, like I know sometimes other artists will just post their stuffs and not engage too heavily with fandom, and for a while I did try to do that here (because I’m already a dramatic ass on twitter), that’s just not me though.

You will get art and you will get my opinions as well.

[radioactive-dazey]

I got weirdly anxious about posting this. I actually REALLY despise how I ended up making Roman but fixing it would require like. 4 hours at most to redraw, color, etc.

OK SO. REALLY BAD BRAINWORMS ABOUT THESE TWO! Its like as soon as October hit, I had to make Nightmare before Christmas art. So I dragged Prinxiety into it to.

um. I had more to say. Its 1 am for me rn. I'm fricking exhausted.

also note: I am a Florida resident. I may go MIA in the next week when I lose power (cuz ik for sure its gonna happen) wish me luck!

Art program: Krita

Time: 5 hours and 50 minutes

[dailyink]

9/1/24

The past stores our memories, the present carries our actions, but the future...oh, the future could hold anything.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 7: Time moves sideways

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A digital illustration of Fearne Calloway from Critical Role. She is posing with her left arm upwards next to her face, folded at the elbow so only the upper half of her arm is visible. Her right hand is posed below her chin, and she has a sultry expression on her face. The fabric of her orange dress drapes around her and behind her is a forest background. End description.]

Her 💚