#if I don’t figure this out

[proxycrit]

(I point. Gently, in the voice of somebody who’s mind touched by the outer gods, i whisper truth in your ears:

Your honor the horses are now lesbians

(Anyways here’s the designs)

[satan-is-a-furry]

GUYS IF THERES A PEGATAUR (or whatever a Pegasus centaur would be called) where would their wings be??

[mothmothwoth]

Welcome home neighbor! It’s so quiet

[br3adtoasty]

We would like to interrupt the usual art program with—

✨Some Spiderverse doodles!✨

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

He’s staring at him.

Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.

The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.

“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.

“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”

“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”

Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”

“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”

Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.

Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”

Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”

Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”

Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.

“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”

Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”

He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”

“To- to prove you’re from the future?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”

He blinks. “What?”

Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”

Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”

Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”

“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.

A ring Eddie already has on his finger.

“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.

His hands start shaking.

“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”

“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.

“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[blackberry-s0da]

Mercy waiting for me to give him any sort of story that doesn’t involve him lingering naked in an invisible background

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 169

Danny is from a world where everyone has wings, even if most have long since lost the ability to fly. Something about loading and aspect ratio, wings being too small, body too heavy, now mostly used as display, whatever. 

It doesn’t matter even if he had blueprints from when he was like six of a jetpack to help fly. It won’t work anyway and hey, he has his ghost form! Which uh, might be perhaps, affecting his wings which were maybe sort of scorched black and practically down to the bone thanks to the accident. 

It doesn’t matter, he swears. Though he’s admittedly relieved to see the new feathers growing in are different from Dan’s angry sunset. Even if they’re not even supposed to be able to grow back. Alright, this is fine, no one is going to notice! It’s not like everyone knows about the poor Fenton kid whose wings were absolutely destroyed thanks to an accident! It’s fine. 

He’s not flying in a half-panic towards the Far Frozen while crying because his wings are coming back and he’s so scared. He didn’t panic and instantly fled the moment Jazz pointed them out while changing the bandages. 

He definitely didn’t trip over something while wiping away said tears and blacking out from all the stress and all of his problems that he definitely mentioned to someone and isn’t keeping a secret. Definitely. 

Hawkwoman and Hawkman would like everyone to know that neither of them were expecting a very small child to be spat out of the villain of that week’s machine that should definitely not be a portal. A very small child, maybe nine or ten, with a multitude of concerning wounds both old and fresh. Which isn’t even beginning to touch on the wings. 

Feathered, like baby down despite the gnarled scars, unlike their own metallic, with the beginning of tiny specklings like stars amidst the darker fuzz peeking from the wounded flesh. 

Who?! Who dared?! It’s (at least to the forever reincarnating duo) a literal baby! They still have down! Tiny baby fuzz! Was it the portal?! Oh this villain is going to taste their maces for causing this if that’s the case! 

The rest of the Justice League would honestly like to know what just happened and are honestly unsure on if they should stop the two…

[princip1914]

A little hopeful moment which I missed on the first watch, but which I think is so important. Nina and Maggie come to have their talk with Crowley. Now, we all know that Crowley is Maggie—yes, sure, Nina is sarcastic and suave and cool and calls Maggie angel—but it’s obvious that Crowley is Maggie and Nina is Aziraphale. Crowley even admits it himself in the very beginning of this conversation when he tries to justify meddling to get Maggie and Nina together:

“Nina needed rescuing.” Yeah, you know who else always “needs rescuing”? Anyway, moving on.

Nina says she just got out of a relationship and it would be a disaster to get into another one right away. And then this happens:

Nina says she hopes Maggie will still be around, but she knows she can’t ask Maggie to just wait while she figures out her own baggage. There's no guarantee. And then Maggie interjects—

The parallel between Maggie/Nina and Crowley/Aziraphale is so intentional as to feel heavy handed. So what does it mean that we get this exchange in at this particular moment in the script—buried within the conversation which is the catalyst for Crowley confessing his feelings, occurring in the lull immediately before the spectacular dissolution of everything the first two seasons were building towards?

“We could have been us,” Crowley says. Crowley walks out of the bookshop. Crowley turns off their song in his car. Whatever tentative blooming thing has been building between him and Aziraphale for six thousand years appears to be very clearly over. Aziraphale presses the kiss to his lips and knows there is no guarantee they will ever have a chance to be together. There's no guarantee that Crowley will ever want to forgive him, that he will keep on waiting for him.

But.

There is.

[shripscapi]

lady catelyn

[wigglebox]

Found you ☀️

[yourlocalabomination]

I am not immune to funny crackships.

+ Bonus

[explanationpoint]

it’s a lot of posts that are thinly veiled “NEVER SUGGEST BEING TRANS TO ANYONE” and frankly i’m not gonna bother with interacting but it’s pretty funny that most of the time it’s not-trans women yelling at trans women for thinking someone might be a trans woman

[the-meme-monarch]

hlvr based things :]

[pinkiepig]

Non human characters am I right

[babaiii]

CW BLOOD CW GORE CW ANIMAL DEATH (FOR FOOD)

what does he mean by this !?

anyways. do you ever think about how many animals sanji skins and guts? i think it’s an interesting contrast to him being careful around tiny creatures. i do think his mentality of never wasting food helps with say respect to the animals they eat, but still i wonder how he’d feel about it after he’s confronted with ‘turning heartless’ moment. oh to be killed by my rival who i know is soft hearted and respectful and strong enough to not make me suffer —

also here’s butcher sanji yay

[adhd-languages]

When someone speaks a foreign language in public and I’m desperately trying not to stare like I’m sorry I’m not racist I just desperately want to hear the different vowel sounds you’re making. sorry.