#OH HE IS SO PRETTY

[parkjammys]

Jason Todd by Simone Di Meo

[princeconsortroad]

via @/princehenryuk on Instagram

[humming-fly]

I love how Gerald was trying to keep Shadow from spoiling anything about the future meanwhile literally everything Shadow says and does around Maria is the biggest death flag ever

[the-eclectic-penguin]

[inkskinned]

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[uncharted-constellations]

The Princess and Hero of the First Great Calamity

The orange snoot is very important to me….

[zeawesomebirdie]

@steine-druff @moinsbienquekaworu @astrophilic-soul @someguywriting @camp-bruins

Ohtori is being very cuddly today, smushing himself against the side of my neck at all opportunities

[nenoname]

It's still interesting that TBoB called more attention to Stan's control over his mindscape (And if you go with the interpretation that the lost pages are partial truths that are heavily influenced by Bill, then he's the one insisting that only someone with training should be able to have that much control over the mind.)

Meanwhile we have a memory!Stan. Someone who apparently knows too much and is rather aware for being a simple memory.

From the Wheel of Shame, we know Bill was able dig up all kinds of dirt on Stan but... that wasn't why he was there in the first place, was it?

Bill couldn't find the code immediately despite a memory of Stan opening the safe being a few hours old at most and decided to have Mabel try find it for him (The original concept of the ep had it far more hidden but this was likely cut because of time constraints)

Ford did experiments on Stan's mind which likely meant using Project Mentem and actually looking around his mindscape, and his only reaction was to comment on his jokes-- despite what little we the audience know being enough to render us sobbing wrecks

(yes I refuse to shut up about this part cos the book's intro is extremely underrated)

Stan was able to replace his memories of Ford with the swingset instead and managed to hide Ford in his Bar Mitzvah memory. And that's not even mentioning the lack of visible Portal and Stan o' War which noticeably show up in Ford's dreamscape (the broken swingset manifesting anyway pains me tho)

He subconsciously has misdirects for his secrets that are both silly and manages to disturb everyone too

And while Bill-as-Soos being bored by the vending machine memory is a joke that's basically the crew's way of going "hey remember the thing way back in the first ep that's going to show up in the next one?" and in-universe appears to be Stan slipping up, it's interesting that they had Stan input the wrong code when it's consistent literally every other time its inputted (especially when it shows up correctly in the very next episode)

It's even possible that the safe code that Bill found could have been a misdirect too but we'll never know since the safe got blown open by dynamite.

Stan was able to buy time by making his mind blank despite being genuinely terrified when Bill enters his mind (to the point that he breaks character and uses his own voice to yell), and could conjure up his living room (in colour opposed to his mind's regular greyscale) to make sure Bill didn't have enough room to flee, slamming the door in his face before the effects of the memory gun kicked in.

(EDIT: Random door analysis here)

And maybe the twins eventually told him that Bill had already been inside his mind after their W3 reunion, but all we know was that his conscious self was left in the dark for ages and wasn't really aware of Bill until Weirdmageddon.

TBoB showing McGucket's dreamscape also brings up the idea of the effects of the memory gun manifesting differently to each person. To Stan's mindscape, the memory wipe manifests as blue flames which immediately brings to mind Bill's powers but it's a far lighter shade (maybe to more closely match the memory gun and its eventual fade to white?)

The end of TBoB and the website poem also firmly reminds us about Stan's connection to fire but there's also the question if Stan himself is actually aware of it...

[hinamie]

i don't normally participate in these redraw challenges but it's megumi so i'll make an exception

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[jinaxxo]

my dear arthur...

[ofswordsandpens]

the fact that the biggest smile we've seen on Percy's face so far is when he's petting that little lizard thing is just so

[bubbarnes]

“... I can remember being a kid myself and going to school and wondering whether I was going to make it or, you know, anyone was going to care.”

[marciaillust]

on a break

[jaylaxies]

imagine tugging on his manbun as he eats you out mindlessly, try pulling him away from your cunt and he’s gonna panic cause why would you deprive him of his favourite thing—your pussy, he’d whine and go back in, sucking on your clit harshly while moaning around your cunt, his groans getting louder the more you tug on his hair <3

[flwrkid14]

Letters in Green Ink: Phantom's Footsteps on Gotham's Rooftops

Tim Drake was no stranger to paranoia. It was practically a job requirement in Gotham. But this? This was getting weird.

It started small: the feeling of being watched on rooftops, a shadow a little too close. Harmless, at first. But then the sticky notes began.

Random, anonymous sticky notes. Clues he’d missed. Addresses for gang hideouts. Details on corrupt businessmen.

He found one on his motorcycle seat. Another on the Batcomputer. A bright green note scrawled with:

“Check the docks. Midnight.”

Tim had learned to trust his gut, and his gut was screaming: This is not normal.

---------------

Meanwhile, in another corner of Gotham:

Danny Fenton was hovering invisibly above a warehouse, nervously biting his lip. He was shaking. Not because he was scared of Gotham’s criminals. Nope. The real danger? Red Robin’s eyes.

Danny: internal screaming 'Why did I think this was a good idea?'

Also Danny: hovering invisibly above Tim, whispering to himself: “Okay, Danny. You’re helping. You’re useful. He doesn’t need to know you’re a stalker. A cool stalker. Like a… guardian angel! Yes. Totally fine. Not creepy at all.”

---------------

Tim, mid-stakeout, could feel the eyes. Again. He spun around, batarang ready. Nothing. Just empty shadows. The wind.

He scowled. “Alright, whoever you are. You’re getting annoying.”

---------------

Danny floated a few rooftops away, clutching his chest. “Oh my god, he spoke. And he’s mad. Why is that hot?”

He watched as Red Robin took down three thugs single-handedly. His fighting was brutal, efficient. Danny, invisible and swooning, whispered: “He’s so cool.”

---------------

The next night: a bust gone sideways. Tim found himself cornered by more goons than expected, already calculating the least-bad injury. Then, out of nowhere, a ghostly chill swept through the alley.

Blowtorch thug? Frozen solid.

Gunman? Knocked out cold.

And there, floating in the moonlight, glowing white hair and intense green eyes: Phantom.

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “You. You’re the one who’s been—”

Phantom blinked, stammered, “Uh, gotta go!” and vanished like a startled deer.

---------------

Back in his lair (aka an abandoned Gotham clocktower because aesthetic™️), Danny spiraled. “He saw me. He saw me! Oh god, why did I freeze that guy? Cool guys don’t freeze goons.”

Jazz’s voice in his head: “Danny, you have to stop.”

Danny: “I CAN’T, JAZZ. HE’S TOO PRETTY.”

---------------

Tim was in full detective mode. Batman-level scowling. “Phantom. Ghost powers. Clearly interested in my cases. Why?”

He scanned the city. Ran searches. No results.

But the sticky notes kept coming.

“Check the East End warehouse. 10pm.”

“Watch out for the armored guy. He has backup.”

Tim didn’t know what was more frustrating: the lack of information, or the fact that Phantom was always right.

---------------

Finally, one night, Tim cornered him. Literally. Phantom turned a corner and smacked into Red Robin. Hard.

Tim crossed his arms. “Alright. Talk.”

Danny, blushing so hard his glow flickered. “Uh… hi.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Why are you following me?”

Danny, brain short-circuiting: “I LIKE YOUR… uh, CAPE.”

Tim blinked. “My cape.”

Danny nodded furiously. “It’s… cool. Flowy.”

Tim stared. Silence stretched. Then: “You’re helping me.”

Danny swallowed. “Um. Yeah?”

Tim’s voice softened. “Why?”

Danny, panicking, blurted: “Because I like you!”

---------------

Silence.

Tim’s brain: Error 404.

Danny: contemplating phasing into the floor.

Finally, Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You… are the most chaotic stalker I’ve ever had.”

Danny, grinning nervously: “So, um. Friends?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “We’ll start with coworkers.”

---------------

Danny, flying away, fist-pumping in the air: “He didn’t say no!”

Tim, watching him go, muttering: “I need coffee. And maybe an exorcist.”