#Running With the Locals

[selunesfavouriteprincess]

i love that Neve canonically throws hands. like she’s a literal mage there’s no reason for her to be doing all that but she will get right up close and physically fight enemies in this game. woman of the year

[an--artistic--autistic]

i am unreasonably proud and excited about this

[oofouchstovehot]

very fond of the latest Little Guy

[dreamyblanket]

Oh okay…now I want to see y/n cookie hiding under awaken pure vanilla’s hat if that’s okay? I just thought it be funny that shadow milk couldn’t find them and they are hiding with pure vanilla

We are going to need to put y/n under a microscope to see them! 0.0u

[goldenstorm0]

I want Yuri and Loid to team up because Yor gets a ticket. And they break into the police department to destroy the paperwork and essentially erase it from existence. Because how dare anyone try to give Yor a fine

[cosmic-aquila]

[] The Blind Guide []

There had been silent whispers in Gotham lately, about a blind child with pitch black hair that seemed to suck the light around it, dull yet shocking blind blue eyes would stare at those who somehow stumble upon him.

He's always followed by a cold chill, they say, and a feeling of eyes everywhere. There's always a crow, raven, owl, or rat nearby, always carrying a gift for the blind child. He always knew where to go, or what was around him, despite being blind. He helped anyone that stumbles upon him, whether civilian or rouge, even Robin one time when a gang teamed up on him while he was helping a stray dog.

Which is the reason Red Robin was currently swinging across rooftops, searching for any leads on where the 'Blind Guide' could be found. Red Robin was sure he was so close to the mysterious child, when Batman called for backup in order to bust a drug's ring, causing his to abandon a new rare lead.

Its been a month or so now, with Red Robin following leads but unable to find the Blind Guide for one reason or another, and why does it feel like his siblings were laughing at him behind his back?

[beskarfrog]

A: You know, Obi-wan, he'd probably take you home too, if you asked nicely. O: Anakin!

[crabsnpersimmons]

I got my hair cut the other day and of course I had to draw the dca boys running a hair salon:

Sun would be so effortlessly charming. Always chatting away with customers, explaining each product he uses and how to best maintain and style their hair.

Moon I can see being popular with the less chattier customers (like me) but over time they begin to open up. I imagine he hums while working. Otherwise, he's all ears for the newest gossip.

(The clipped up hat idea came from @bamsara's solar lunacy doodles!)

Also I love the popular headcanon that the dca can speak other languages, so I can imagine them being a hit with the aunties.

The full sketch page under cut! And some of my other thoughts

Other thoughts about this... AU? Can I call it an AU? Feels kinda small for an AU, but whatever:

Eclipse works there too! Haven't decided if it would be canon or fanon Eclipse, though I really like the image of 4-armed Eclipse working on 2 clients at once (plus, the nickname Clip is perfect for this scenario)

of course they're great with kids! They'd be able to console kids that get scared of getting their hair cut. Sun would do a little trick and tell them how good and brave they are all the way through. Moon would console them and hum a soothing song (or hey maybe they notice the kid's wearing a disney shirt and starts humming some showtunes). Every kid gets a candydrop and a balloon on their way out.

y/n works at the hair salon as a part-timer and does tasks around the salon like sweeping, arranging bookings, washing hair, etc. They don't really care too much about their own hair, but the boys are always offering to style it, dye it, braid it. With y/n's permission, the boys always toy with their hair—patting it, combing their hands through it, brushing it over y/n's ear, ruffling it.

[captainjonnitkessler]

You guys have GOTTA learn to stop seeking absolution from strangers online.

If someone says "haha Americans are so self-centered they don't know anything about other countries", you don't gotta jump in and explain that actually it's not your fault because you had a bad education. Just learn from the post and move on!

If someone says "white people hate rap because they're racist", you don't gotta jump in and start listing all the totally valid reasons you personally don't like it. You don't have to justify your music taste to strangers, just move on!

If someone says "people should be more involved in their local communities" you don't gotta jump in and start listing all the reasons that you personally can't leave your house and so actually the original post is really ableist. Just accept that the post doesn't apply to you and move on!

Stop publicly demanding that the internet absolve you of sins that some random dipshit made up, it is always going to make you look bad and you'll wind up trapped in an anxious cycle of needing external validation for every aspect of your personality. You don't have to justify yourself to randos on the internet.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

���What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[draculadrawalong]

May 4

My friend Jonathan just got a neat souvenir, this journey just keeps improving!

[electoons]

I love the college of winterhold. everyone there is casually deranged and there's like an alarming number of students and staff who threaten you immediately when they meet you. it's always one of the first questlines I do. which makes it even funnier when you get made the arch-mage of the college. I'm level 12 and got through this questline knowing exactly 3 spells. what do you mean you want me to lead the college. this school CANNOT be an accredited institution

[shinesurge]

listen there definitely does need to be a discussion about more ethical merch sourcing but i really really don't think acting like independent artists running convention tables are the rich we should be eating is the way to have it. no one is above reproach we are all complicit in capitalism etc but people have GOT to stop inventing impossible moral standards for individuals making independent art when the entities creating the conditions making them impossible are right there. it's the same bullshit as aggressively content policing queer creators with tiny platforms, all indiscriminate vitriol does is shut down smaller operations while bigger ones with way more impact on the things we care about continue as usual. the artist alley circuit folding wouldn't affect the huge dealers reselling bootleg or ai shit around the corner but it would make it harder for anyone to make non-corporate art.

the conversation is a lot of "people need to buy fewer Things" but we're not discussing the fact that people won't pay for art on its own, making merch to make money to keep making the art itself is a response to external conditions. again, i agree that ethical production and environmental responsibility are things creators should reckon with!! we still need to contend with what our decisions mean for others!! but going straight after indie artists for making phone charms instead of LITERALLY anyone else in this industry is WILD. business guys in the dealer room are running entire companies on ai work and funko is out here selling its 594th conan batman pop or whatever but at least we ran off a small creator for funding queer art with pronoun pins

[star--bird]

(Tim goes to Seattle for a mission)

Bernard (over the phone): So how are you liking Seattle?

Tim: I hate it here. Everything is awful. This city is worse than Gotham. Genuinely uninhabitable.

Bernard: Wait, what? Why? Did something happen?

Tim: There are no Dunkin's here.

Bernard: Damn... However will you survive.

[birroww]

Give my boy a Monster truck

I had a vison about Hyrule.

My boy deserves to run over monsters in a monster truck

Plus +

KILL THAT MOTHER FUCKER HYRULE

part 2 (Four train time) -> and Part 3 (Hyrule car crash)

part 4(The chain) and Part 5(tricycle Time)

Part6(Hyrule gets arrested and Part 7(Court)