#Cartoon version of me

[brown-spider]

imo the pointing meme was 1,000x’s funnier in ITSV than in ATSV

[sophiathetrainwreck]

god i wished i lived in the timeline where companies respected animation

[a-person-on-the-internet]

I have seen footage of the new mascot horror game finding frankie, and now that I kind of know the plot:

They made this for monsterfuckers, right? Like, the dynamic between frankie and the player, the whole "we need each other" end monologue, they want us to wanna tap the springloaded rabbit with massive teeth?

Because. Yeah. I can see it.

[aulerean]

[multipurposetoolguy]

freaky barber who does freaky barberous things

also muriel ^_^ and my human design for courage..poor little guy in the middle of nowhere just wants to keep his adopted gramma safe

[sssnakeparty]

spinning this guy around so hard in my brain rn you guys have no idea

[fabuloustrash05]

Okay I really enjoyed Tottmnt, I hope for another season, but did anyone else feel off anytime they mentioned/referenced real life things from celebrities, shows, movies, memes, etc.

Like it felt out of place and would always catch me off guard when things like Donnie mentioning going on Wikipedia or using Google, celebrities like Drake, Beyonce, and Jay-Z getting mentioned, or talking about movies and shows like Star Wars, Star Trek, and Friends, would happen.

[mikey12games]

Thank You and Goodnight!

(I am up for the idea of opening up asks for them. That way I can still draw them and show a little bit more of their interactions that have all been rotating up in my head)

The love on Lacie was absolutely amazing! I never would have expected her to get the amount of love that she did. Though she was made only in three days, I still took a lot of care in making her and I had a lot of fun writing for both versions of her character!

She was TRENDING TWICE on another site! Nothing I have ever made has gotten close to that. So, THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Here's a version with just Frankie:

Speedpaint:

[gus-dix]

totally spies redesign which is also a redraw. this show was weird but i remember being fascinated with them changing clothes every ep, wondering why other shows didn't do that as well

do not erase the caption, use or rePOST my art (reblog ok)

[highfunctioningfleshrule63]

[tekimoroll]

Vinicius is saying ONE word.

That's it, that's the post.

(PT-BR)

Vinícius está dizendo UMA palavra.

É isso, esse é o post.

[lordgrimwing]

The Big 5-0-0

(Or, Glorfindel has a gift for his husband)

[for Glorfindel Week, hosted by @glorfindelweek, Day 7]

“Five hundred years!” Exclaimed the shocked tavern keeper.

Glorfindel shrugged as he helped the Man lift the roasted lamb from the cooking fire that also heated the dining room. “Five hundred years is not so long for elves.”

The Man scoffed, taking up a towel in one hand and pushing the steaming carcass from the spit. She wagged a finger at him. “For an Elf with a thousand years ahead of him, maybe, but any marriage that endures longer than kingdoms ought to be celebrated to the fullest.”

A thousand more years felt like pitifully little time to Glorfindel. He certainly would take every opportunity to celebrate every memory if he knew his time in Arda was so limited. How Men, who were lucky if they lived within a stone’s throw of one hundred, went their whole lives without bursting into song and dance in celebration of existence, he’d never understand. 

“I saw that horse you rode here on, so don’t bother saying you don’t have the means to throw a proper party.”

Asfaloth, being an Elvish steed, demanded a certain level of finary when he went out. The bells, however, were entirely Glorfindel’s idea.

“Erestor detests parties, and he says adorning a horse in gems and bells will get me killed—again!” 

She snorted at the jest, passing Glorfindel a platter for the meat he was stripping from the bones, unbothered by the heat that would burn her hands. “And in five hundred years, have you learned only what he dislikes and nothing of what he likes?”

He smiled softly. He knew much of what his beloved liked.

“Should I call all those men back in and ask them to recount tales of wives whose husbands didn’t bring them an anniversary gift?” The tavern keeper threatened. 

She’d cleared the dining room of local patrons until the meal was ready. The gleaming Elf-lord had garnered more raucous attention than she liked when it was her building, table, and chairs at risk, and it hadn’t felt right to ask him to wait in his room until everyone was distracted by good food. The other Men went willingly enough, though Glorfindel could still clearly hear them milling about outside.

“That won’t be necessary, good lady,” he said. “Duty brought me this way, but I made time to find something he will treasure.” He patted the purse tied to his belt.

She shot the purse a dubious look, doubtlessly skeptical that anything that fit in a small bag could adequately encompass the magnitude of a couple’s 500th wedding anniversary. 

“Well,” she settled on. “Don’t say no one warned you if he kicks you out on your ear.”

--

When Glorfindel finally arrived in Imladris, Erestor met him in the narrow pass leading down into the valley, too impatient to wait longer.

“My brightest night star!” Glorfindel said, alighting from Asfaloth’s saddle to sweep the loremaster into his arms. He planted a kiss on his forehead, thrilled by the absence of an audience to their reunion: Erestor disliked people kissing in public almost as much as he disliked parties. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

Erestor huffed but did not pull away. Reaching up, he pulled Glorfindel’s head down to return the kiss, leaving his husband blushing with excitement. 

“You took your time, Dandelion,” the black-haired Elf accused when they separated. “Elrond expected you back a fortnight ago.”

“I admit to tarrying longer than needed for the task he gave me,” Glorfindel said, leading the dusty stallion as the lovers continued down the path hand-in-hand. “But I promise it was not without reason.”

“It had better be a good reason, and not just that you had to climb some mountain to return one of Manwë’s foolish birds to its nest.”

Erestor was with him on that particular occasion, about fifty years before they married, though he had no interest in scaling the last cliffs to return the unfledged eagle to her home. Glorfindel insisted on it, knowing the young bird couldn’t survive the fast-approaching thunderstorm alone in the open and was too wild to keep in with them until the weather cleared. Trusting his skill and light step, Glorfindel climbed alone, the bird wrapped in a cloth to keep her wings and talons contained and secured in a sack over his shoulder, only her head poking out. The task wouldn’t have been challenging if not for the storm. He made it back to the sheltered test just fine, reassuring the flustered eagle parents with a song as he freed their lost eaglet. On the way down, however, his hands split on the rain-soaked stones and fell—only a few feet down to the next ledge, true, but it was enough to leave his heart pounding and senses ringing with the echos of dragon-thunder and flash of balrog-whips overlaying the storm. 

Erestor threatened to knock him out and tie him up the next time such madness came over him when he eventually made it back to safety, dripping wet and jumping at every clash of thunder that came too close. Glorfindel agreed to let him.

“Oh, no, you will find this delay was entirely to your liking,” he promised.

“A lofty claim, indeed,” Erestor said. “I will require proof.”

“When we are both safely home and done with our duties, I will show you.”

--

Glorfindel was sitting, comfortable and cozy, in bed with his embroidery when something hard bounced off his head and landed on the covers next to him.

“I cannot believe you!” 

Erestor’s sitting in an armchair by the window, using the last rays of the setting sun to inspect his gift—Or he had been. Currently, he was standing, slate tablet in one hand, the other still extended from slinging the little dog figurine from the side table at the golden-haired fool sitting in bed. His face was scrunched up, mouth pinched like he’d bitten into a lemon (except he usually had too much self-control to ever react to the unassuming citrus, but the comparison was good enough). 

“Where did you find this? How did you find this?” He brandished the old slate aggressively, for a moment looking as though he might throw it too.

Glorfindel set aside his project. “Is it not to your liking?” 

Perhaps he’d misjudged entirely and he would end up out on his ear just like the tavern keeper warned.

“Not to my liking? Not to my liking?” Erestor lifted the tablet high, gesturing to the small drawings on it with his other hand. “Sunflower, The elf who made these stories died four thousand years ago. How did you come by this?”

He sounded more shocked than angry, and Glorfindel relaxed. “Through much patience and the exchanging of many letters with various collectors of first age relics. I made a detour to collect that on the way back. That’s what delayed my return.”

“Did it not cost a small fortune? I spied no gems missing from your horse’s daft accoutrements.” 

A grin broke across Glorfindel’s face. “I dare say it is worth as much to you.”

Softness spread across his husband’s face and he touched the old slate now with tender, almost reverent fingers as he caressed the time-warn drawings. His eyes clouded with old memories of the past rarely recalled from the careful places he stored them in. “I laughed over this depiction of Lords Celegorm and Curufin when it was only days old! I helped Vekkawë hide his collection in our mattresses when Captain Crímainya came to destroy the ‘defaming misinformation’. I thought I’d never see one again after the Valar sank Beleriand.”

Eyes clearing, he brought the tablet, with its child-like depiction of long-gone beloved lords, to his chest and said, “This is a great treasure. No fortune can take it from me.”

Glorfindel laughed. “I’m glad the Dwarf I bought it from did not know the true value, then, for I am not sure I could have gotten it honestly for that price and would not have departed without it.”

Erestor snorted, muttering “Six pounds of that hideous tack you insist on dressing your horse in would have covered it, no doubt” as he turned away for a moment of privacy to wipe his eyes clear before he accidentally shed tears over the small remnant of his past.

“Asfaloth cannot be parted from his gems when he is afield.” 

Glorfindel opened his arms, and Erestor—after setting the tablet carefully on the side table like it was as fragile as a hollow dove egg and not slab or stone almost as old as the world itself that had survived devastations and travesties unnumbered—fell into his embrace. 

They spent the rest of the night in bed, though neither got much sleep.

[dukeofthomas]

Bruce&Jaybin having a good, nice, sweet father/son relationship is my weakspot and I love it. I just don't like people acting like this is in any way true to comics canon and not an AU

[bevioletskies]

gmmtv + character fashion ↳ film rachanun as "neon" in dirty laundry (2023)

[inanimationhell]

I am absolutely losing my mind over this.

I always pegged Daphne as the astrology one of the group, but I am in love with the idea of it being Fred. Also, I love the idea of Daphne teaching Fred about it and him getting super into it to Daphne's happy bafflement! 😭 I need to find this comic page asap omg

[skinnypaleangryperson]

The absolute sweetest man I've ever seen, both in real life and in media 💚