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[sentientapple]

i'm serious when i say if anything could get me to stop watching the show it's them continuing to keep edy on. they know what she did, they know the chatter on social media and how we feel about it. at some point it starts to feel like a big fuck you to fandom to keep her on.

[sentientapple]

And Ryan Guzman hit a million followers too! 🤣🎉🥂

[sentientapple]

[sentientapple]

[sentientapple]

buck, bothered and bewildered!

(Their faces in this scene killed me, had to draw it)

[sentientapple]

family costumes but the only people who agreed were buck and Christopher

[sentientapple]

i want 60 thousand votes by next thursday

[sentientapple]

what is happening at that bachelor party and WHERE is chimney

[sentientapple]

♡ eddie diaz + underrated scenes 11/? ♡ → 4.06: 'jinx'

[sentientapple]

Moon KnightCember day 1: Headspace and/or Home Is Where The Heart Is

———

Steven didn’t really know what the place inside was supposed to be. He wasn’t even sure it was there, exactly. It felt like a dream a lot of the time, the same strange tactile sensations and sense of space without really being there. But he liked it anyway.

He’d find himself drifting back when he was tired, or when work got too stressful, and it was like he could rest his eyes and his legs at the same time. It smelled nice, familiar, old memories twining in the soft motes of the air, the floorboards creaking if he stepped right. He was pretty sure it was his house, or… something. He didn’t remember it all too well when he was out again, and to be honest, sometimes he would forget it was there at all until he was tucked back in again. It was a retreat, a safe space. Some cordoned off imaginary place to calm himself, or something like that. He didn’t pay it much mind.

It wasn’t until after Marc, after Egypt, after the Duat, after all of it, that Steven really felt himself there again.

He was sitting at home, Gus’s tank bubbling off to his right as he poured over a sheet of old manuscripts at his desk. He’d nabbed them from a new hole in the wall across town he’d discovered, a place that compiled pieces of old local literature. Magazine submissions, school research papers, poetry, the whole lot of it. Steven had collected quite a nice group of articles, and he was very excited to dig into them, but no matter how hard he tried his eyes just wouldn’t work.

It was that—that tired, sticky, brain feeling, like he was bumping into a barrier every time he tried to get himself to read. There was no juice left to get the momentum going, no matter how much he forced himself to stare at the words.

Steven sighed, mouth thinning as he leaned against his hand in defeat.

It wasn’t a work day then. At least not yet. Maybe he’d have the time later, or tomorrow (he hoped so, petulantly), but not right now.

He ran his finger along the text, tracing the small doodles that were left in the margins of some of the magazine scans, his nail scratching on the ink, his desk lamp humming softly.

It was then that he sort of… shifted. Like taking a breath in, or blinking, only… inwards. He was one place until that place was somewhere else, even though he knew he didn’t move just… slid to the left and back a bit. Slightly.

Steven looked up and found his flat. Well. Kind of. It was the same shelves, floors, carpet, but the books were wrong, the knick knacks spread about different and more diverse. When he stood up, slowly, there seemed to be no real city outside, though he had the impression there was still something there, just out of… reach.

He felt a push of presence and turned, walking past a small table of chipped vehicle models and into the entryway. He glanced up to find the ceiling scattered with glow in the dark stars, the sight shifting with odd accuracy into the vault of the wood, before—

“Steven?”

Steven’s eyes flicked back down, finding Marc leaning against the kitchen counter. It wasn’t the right counter for what should’ve been there, the wood too dark and the windows misty and dull, but it didn’t feel out of place either.

“Oh,” he said. “Um… hi.” He waved slightly, though that felt too… calm. He wasn’t surprised, somehow. Something about this was too familiar for that.

Marc seemed more taken aback than him, pushing off from the cabinets as he stepped closer, his brows furrowed deep.

“This is… like the Duat, isn’t it?” Steven asked. “But… not when we’re dead?”

Marc was still looking at him intensely, something grinding beneath his expression that Steven couldn’t place. He flinched slightly when Marc touched his shoulder in place of a response, his fingers squeezing for a moment, before he inhaled sharply and let his hand run down to rest on Steven’s chest.

A breath. A beat.

A warm pulse hummed between them, golden and alive. The walls swelled with a sweet intake of breath, with new lungs pressed sweetly to their ribcage, sunlight settling like old silt.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Marc tugged Steven into a hug, his hands squeezing fiercely around his back, a fist grasping at the little hairs at the back of his neck. Steven chuckled slightly, surprised by the enthusiasm, and wrapped his arms around Marc in return, pulling him a bit closer.

Marc was solid, in whatever way was possible here, gripped tight in his own clothes, standing of his own volition. That seemed new for them. In a good way.

Steven traced his finger along his own knuckles, his palm laid flat on Marc’s back, and waited for the shape to break apart, for sand to take the space of skin. But it didn’t.

Not here.

This was not an unkindness, not a warped shape to trap them in cold purple seas.

Steven felt a muted spark of surprise twist in his chest, before a deep wave of contentment washed through him.

“Oh…” he whispered, his fingers squeezing slightly tighter against Marc. There was an unsteady breath in his ear, and he let his eyes slip closed, resting his forehead on Marc’s shoulder and pulling him closer, rocking them from side to side.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

Not the splash of oars, or the ticking of a sterile clock. Just them. Just here.

———

Check out the prompt list here!!

[sentientapple]

Oh to be the last human alive and falling in love with the hologram of my worst enemy

The old married couple ever

[sentientapple]

he’s so bf coded in s7 and you can’t disagree!! kochanski babes you’re missing out!!

[sentientapple]

🌙 MY MK SKETCH BOOK 🌙⁠

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Comics Jake cracks me up. Admittedly, I like to think Steven's jab at the 'tache is a nod to Jake's. Like a lot of the fandom, I absolutely subscribe to the 'takes in all the strays trope', you absolutely bet I do!⁠

[sentientapple]

♡ eddie diaz + underrated scenes 12/? ♡ → 5.17: 'hero complex'