Hammer drill boy clothes fabulous china gay gay homosexual
Idk wtf
Tell me what to draw, I don't know anything
13 notes
·
View notes
You know some times I am making things for my tmnt experimental au and just feel so bad about the pain and trama I want to put on them ;-;
7 notes
·
View notes
I keep seeing ads for cotton candy flavored vape pods on tumblr and it made me wonder…
Why/Why not in the tags?
I’m interested because I feel like when I was in high school/college in the mid-10s, almost nobody smoked - even if you otherwise had some pretty hard vices. I think it was considered not really worth it for something with such a small buzz. But now, idk. Maybe the advertisers are right to target people here because it’s just that popular again??
(Reblog for a bigger sample size etc etc.)
10K notes
·
View notes
Her Astrophel and Sterling
hmmm
Hmmmmmmmm
You know what.
You know those AU's where the Batfam finds or learns about either hidden or thought to be dead Al Ghul Danny! with a deaged/daughter Dani (Ellie) (I should know, I created a few of those storylines) but what if, now hear me out, what if instead of them finding Danny first its Talia.
Do I want Talia discovering her thought to be dead son to be alive? Yes. Do I want her to find him while investigating Amity Park when the League gets reports of 'Lazarus creatures/water'? Yes.
DO I WANT HER TO KNOCK ON THE FENTON'S DOOR, fully ready to pretend/honey talk her way into the house to uncover what the Fenton's know, ONLY TO MEET A LITTLE ELLIE?!
YES.
Ellie whose eyes and hair look like a copy of her Beloved but she can see bits and pieces of herself as well. Talia knows the child in front of her was not fully her's though but everything makes sense when she hears a voice, a voice she hasn't heard in ages but as a mother just knows, speak out.
"Ellie! I thought I said do not answer the door my Sterling."
"But Daddy, yous was busy fighting the hotdoggys!"
Talia's eyes widen when she finally catches sight of familiar black hair and blue eyes.
and she could only lightly whisper a old nickname she hasn't dared uttered in ages, a name she secretly gave her son due to his love of the stars "Astrophel..."
2K notes
·
View notes
olympics coming up…… athlete aus on the mind….. satoru as a swimmer….. unreasonably large wingspan…. huge hands..... thinks “official” competitions and tournaments are boring because he can’t use the goofy purple googly eyes goggles he likes to practice in…… practices at ungodly hours solely because he likes when the pool is empty because that means you’ll dip your feet in at the edge and be there to greet him with a kiss when he’s finished his laps….. they bring up the stats board and it’s just his name ten times before the next fastest person and he could still lap them, and even tho he’ll always put so much pressure on himself to be the best, it’s worth it to have you hold his face and tell him you’re proud of him... he’s gotten so much merch from events and sponsorships and he used to think they just created clutter but that all changes when you start to wear his clothes (esp the ones with his name on it… he’s not proud to admit that does Something to him)…. always looks up to the stands when he finishes a race and if he knows you’re not there, he looks right at the camera, draws an infinity sign with his fingers, and blows a kiss (which, some commentators routinely call “unsportsmanlike conduct” but he doesn’t care, and always, publicly says he’ll pay the fees if it means blowing a kiss to his girl at home)
1K notes
·
View notes
i was drawing something completely different and then killer human design brainrot took over.
he was partially inspired by his "canon" human design and also the design made by @/itsxroxannex
(canon in heavy quotations)
755 notes
·
View notes
a small note for the incoming 'reddit refugees' because i've seen multiple posts contradicting this:
reblogs are wonderful things. especially when it comes to work people have created because it's the most effective way to share it amongst this site. absolutely reblog posts. but LIKE them too!
when someone likes one of my dumb shitposts it's like receiving a pat on the back for my insanity. it's a subtle nod of appreciation as you pass each other on the street. i love it.
and i keep seeing people saying "don't like posts, that's annoying and serves no purpose to the non-existent algorithm" but that just dismisses all the people on here that love getting likes too? i have a handful of followers that spam like things i've posted/reblogged daily and i treasure those people dearly ✨️
3K notes
·
View notes
The DHP office is so… liminal. Misplaced. Hidden away from sight, a building and parking lot one might expect to see in a major city instead located in the middle of a forest, no roads in or out. There is no way in. If you force entry, you are greeted by a vast empty room, the only furniture a receptionist desk and filing cabinets in the center of the room. There is a single light hanging above it.
There is a man standing behind the desk. There is no one else there. You approach, and inquire about… something. The words don’t feel like your own. The man smiles, an average customer service smile, but there seems to be some tinge of malice behind it. He explains the forms that need to be filled out, the paperwork that needs to be signed- this is such a long process, you know.
The light seems to be getting dimmer. You look up, and it has begun corroding, decaying as you stand there watching. Some of the words the man says don’t make sense- you’d think they were gibberish, but something about this place is off, and you don’t trust yourself right now. You ask what he means. He says he’ll have to put you on hold for a moment, and music begins to play. You feel almost rooted in place. The man stares at you silently. The light gets dimmer. You can’t move. The music, pleasant at first, begins to grate. Finally, the man leaves, disappearing behind those file cabinets. You still can’t move. It feels like an eternity. Moss has started creeping its way up the cabinets. The ceiling is leaking. The floor is eroding. The light gets dimmer. You don’t want to move.
Something pops, and suddenly the music is gone. The man is back. You can move again. The light is back to normal, no sign of any damage. The room is pristine. The man says something about the paperwork not being quite ready yet, you’ll have to come back later. You aren’t really listening, something in your brain is screaming that something is wrong. You want to leave. You don’t want to come back. Something about the man’s blank eyes seems to look through you, and you get the feeling you won’t have a choice. You thank him. You leave. You want to run, get as far from that place as possible. You walk.
You enter the forest, and turn for a final look at that strange building. There’s nothing there but more forest. Something doesn’t feel right.
921 notes
·
View notes
this quote about cordyceps from this article in a scientific magazine is basically how i've always imagined possession to work in horror stories. the demon/entity/whatever doesn't alter your perception, displace you, or control your mind, they just take over all your bodily processes, bypassing your brain entirely. they force your mouth and vocal cords to form the words they want you to say, force your limbs to move in the direction they want you to go, and force your lungs to keep expanding and contracting and your heart to keep beating, even through excruciating pain and horrific injury, so you can't even self-sabotage and your friends and loved ones are discouraged from trying to stop you for fear of what harm they might cause you to do to yourself to escape. you're a passenger in the driver's seat of your own car, and the hands on the wheel, though outwardly apparently the same pair you've always had, are no longer your own.
2K notes
·
View notes