#well technically yesterday was

[izanallu]

Hii :D not a question but I just wanted to say that as a fellow HUUUGE error sans simp and lover, I absolutely ADORE your error x oc fan arts and comic! It’s so cool honestly I really love your art style and you made me simp for error even more lmao.

-Shiraz! (Coming from @shishax since I couldn’t switch to my other vlog)

Keep the good work!:DD

HOLY OK so I just found out how to check my asks whoop-

ASHWVDUWGDIWHODFBOSBFFO 😭😭❤️❤️❤️

ERROR SIMPS UNITE

I’m glad you like my art heheh ( and Error ofc >:) )

Look at this dude, who wouldn’t love him??

Here’s u hugging him :]

Also on another note…

Yesterday was my—

Guess who’s adulting now guys.

[muffin-snakes-art]

Happy 10th Anniversary to the Japanese release of Kirby Triple Deluxe!! I animated a Taranza. Turn the sound on to hear him go yippee!

[x1lema]

Saitama 17

[daily-dose-of-bucket]

can you let kugie and Kanna live happily ever after no kugie is not dead what r u talking sbout

Day 78: of course they lived happily ever after, here's Kanna's high school graduation photo!

[stylesrecord]

LOVE ON TOUR – Los Angeles (1/29)

[lunarharp]

pretty & cute witch men

[lotus-lamps]

Oh?

[braceletofteeth]

Strangers From Hell Incorrect Quotes [13/?]

insp.

[melverie]

Okay but a flower field date with Mephisto?

[sherbetlemonss]

Babette animation + DuBeakley art ^^

Less crunchy vid ver of the gif ->

[persistent-wallflower]

First you should immediately Kate Bush - Get Out Of My House and then you better Tori Amos - Get Out Of My Garden!!!

[call-me-pup2]

On the train zooming! Might as well have wore a scuba suit with the weather though, going to go charity shop hunting for a cute waterproof trench coat so with me luck!

[wolfgang1097]

I meant to post THIS in honor of International Talk Like a Pirate Day, but crud, I'm a day late. Oh well. I swear Black looks so badass in that pirate attire he is fantasizing. Anyhow, happy belated Talk Like a Pirate Day, I guess.

Taken from the fourth strip from the first portion of "Spy vs. Spy Casebook of Craziness." I do not claim ownership of any content. Spy vs. Spy belongs to the defunct MAD magazine and Antonio Prohias.

[luuxxart]

takeba family card night

[orig]

[psychotic-nonsense]

Steddie Week Day 4: Trade / Body swap

------- it starts off super rough, warning for suicidal thoughts/intent and brief descriptions of gore -------

Steve is going to die.

He went to his room for privacy. His thoughts have gotten so loud lately, headaches so deep he can hardly see, and he just needed a moment to breathe.

But then he went to sit on his bed, and fell straight through it into the Upside Down.

Panicked, Steve had scrambled to get up. A hand had reached down to help, and without thinking, he grabed it.

Then he recoiled with how cold and rotten it felt. He looked up to face its owner, and was met with Barbara Holland. Half eaten, swollen faced, glossy eyed, dead Barbara.

When he tried to crawl away from her, two hands reached down to forcefully haul him up from the ground. Hands that were soaking wet, filling the thick air with an equally suffocating metallic stench. As soon as Steve regained his footing, he whirled around and backed away from the moving corpses.

It's Billy Hargrove. Bloody, beaten, black veined Hargrove, skinny from the chunks taken out of his torso and swaying with the imbalance of it.

They began speaking, bemoaning in their haunting voices how he let them die and left them to rot, Steve the Hero running like the true coward he was. The forest came alive with the chittering of Demobats, underneath it all an unrelenting mantra. I told you to make him pay, why did I have to pay in his stead, you didn't even kill him, you lost you lost you lost and I died for nothing-

And Steve didn't hear anymore. Because he ran.

He's being Cursed, no one knows it, and he's going to die.

No matter how far he runs, the forest gets no smaller, the calls of animal and ghost alike getting no quieter. He strains, runs though he can't breathe, crying out for help. But all that does is worsen the voices. Calling him a failure, selfish, why does he get to live, why did they have to die-

Steve loses his footing. Skids forward over the rough ground further than he should, unable to stop. Then his feet fall over a sudden ledge and he isn't slowing down and his clawing hands are barely able to catch a stray hanging branch before he's dangling over a cliffside.

His breaths are heaving, and his hands tense hard to keep hold of the branch. He knows he shouldn't but the creature sounds have only gotten louder, so he looks down.

Hundreds of feet down it's a rolling mess of black vines, dark smoke, and demo-creatures. They're all lunging for him, their snarls and screeches mixing with the ghostly moans, urging him to just give in submit fall.

A sudden crack breaks through the mess of sound. Steve turns back around, sees the rock holding up his branch begin to splinter, and he's going to die.

In between his desperate panting, words fall out. Words he means that no one who matters will ever hear. "I'm-I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Dustin, Nancy... R-Robin, Barb, Hargrove... I should- should've been more... I'm sorry, I can't-" He's cracking, the last of his desperation crumbling with the further breaks in the rocks. "I can't do it, I'm not... I'm not Max- Max, I'm sorry..." And as the cracks grow and his fingers slip, the tears finally fall. "I'm s-sorry, Ed... Eddie, I'm so sorry... It should've been me..."

And at the same time the crack finishes its journey, Steve lets go.

Everything quiets. Everything goes slow. It's almost freeing, knowing it's all going to be over, even though the terrified faces of his family flash through his head with every tear that falls. He doesn't want it to be over, he wants to live... but what right does he have-

Someone's calling out his name. A voice that gets his eyes to open, shocked at the blatant fear and desperation in it. Someone's falling right behind him, before him, reaching out for him.

Eddie. Eddie Munson. With all the same terror and need and pleading eyes that Steve remembers.

Steve automatically reaches back, shock urging him to beg just once more, somehow catching Eddie's hand. Immediately, he's crushed to Eddie's chest. Arms hold him tight, hands clenching hard at Steve's clothes.

Eddie feels real. Breathes and sobs like he's real. Warmth pulses through his clothes like he's real. Each brush of skin feels solid and soft and desperate and real.

So Steve holds him back. Tight, desperate to not lose him in their fall, no matter how real this may be. Shoves his face into Eddie's shoulder and closes his eyes and feels.

At least he won't go alone... At least in the end, he's not alone...

And then, like an electric shock, the world wakes up with noise. A familiar voice invades his senses, lamenting about a Mr. Crowley, as the world lights up in pure bright white behind his eyes-

Then another shock and he's gasping for air, falling from his suspension onto his bed and rolling off onto the floor.

Steve heaves, trying to regain his senses. The voices of his family surround him, echoing in his delirium, worried and scared. He breathes deep, attempting to respond... but his own voice beats him to it.

He finally opens his eyes, looking up from the ground he was kneeling over. There's no one around him, he's alone in his room.

His room that looks vaguely... fuzzy. And, come to think of it, uncomfortably wrong. There's a large mirror that rests opposite his bed that's now on the wrong wall, and the reflection is clearer than his own surroundings.

Except it's less of a reflection, and more of a portal. Through it, he sees his own body, sitting where Steve is kneeling, and staring at his hands. Shock and confusion is evident in every tremble of his fingers, and this reflection doesn't respond when someone says Steve's name.

There's something about it that feels familiar, a presence that Steve has longed to feel again for months. Steve unconsciously copies the reflection's position, and reaches out unsteadily. He wants to grab what he sees, catch the eye of it at the very least, just to know this is real like it was before.

Then another shock travels through his body, but this time, it lands hard in his fingertips and temples. He recoils sharply, face tensing up with a groan of pain.

But to this, his family reacts. Steve's eyes go wide, and he's suddenly met with reality. No fuzzy surroundings, with everyone right beside him. He shakes his shocked hand, rubs it, watches it flex and move just to convince himself. The presence from before is still there, but stronger now, like the person is right beside him.

He remembers the mirror, looks over at it, and freezes.

The others take notice, look at it too. Then they're freaking out, asking if anyone else can see it too, because it can't be real. Yet to Steve, it feels so so real.

The mirror reflects the room, but wrong. Fuzzy, without the others who are present. Where Steve's reflection should be isn't Steve. It's Eddie.

Dressed the same as he was in his final moments. Eyes as wide as the night they first found him. And that presence - the one Steve only felt during an Upside Down walk, at the front of a winnebago, in front of a trailer covered in vines - no longer feels like its beside Steve. Rather, like it's nestled right inside his heart, his brain.

Like Eddie's sharing the space there with Steve.

[spearxwind]

These are really quick scribbles but I wanna share them because I am quite proud of em

Been thinking of tweaking Hades' design for a little while, and now that I actually have his backstory and such more developed I finally sat down to scribble some ideas and I landed on this one

Notes: very floral themed bc he's from a really plant heavy tropical biome in CD, the petals can fold back fully and can be used for swimming, as a threat display/hunting tactic, camouflage, etc. The petals themselves can change shape a little bit, this would just be their max aperture for the threat display :]