#also chicken nuggets

[ilostmygenderalongwithmydignity]

Bruce figuring out Captain Marvel is a kid because of him saying some brainrot nonsense he’s heard his kids say is always fantastic, but I think it’d be even funnier if, as a result of the absolute fucking gremlins he calls family, he automatically contributes like a sleeper agent. Like

Captain Marvel: I only have 69¢

Batman, not looking up from his paperwork in the corner, in the most friendly and excited tone the League has ever heard from him: You know what that means! :D

And all of them turn to stare at him just in time to see him give his patented Disappointed Sigh™️, directed at himself for once, and look into the distance as if questioning every single decision that led to this moment. The League is in shock. The younger heroes didn’t think Batman knew what Vine was. Nightwing is laughing so hard he’s sobbing on the floor, because Dick knows damn well it was HIM who caused that

[inkz123]

Day 8: Bento🍱

[spirit-lanterns]

I would wonder how the other hybrids would react if Vet!Reader had a blatant favoritism to one of them...ahemm....Robin...ahemmm...making her wear cute little clothes

I don’t think the Vet would have favoritism towards one hybrid, BUTTTT she might accidentally spoil a hybrid more than others, as some of them are just too easy to spoil due to their size.

An example of this is Bird! Robin being such a small, fluffy thing that she can fit into handmade outfits crafted by the Vet herself. Same thing with Cat! Cipher and Raccoon! Stelle, as there are so many cute animal clothes at pet stores that the Vet can’t resist buying for them. Robin, Cipher and Stelle love whenever you dress them up, but it does spark jealousy amongst some of the bigger hybrids at the sanctuary.

Now you have Tiger! Himeko, Orca! Acheron and Bear! Natasha timidly begging for clothes too. So now you have to somehow find clothes big enough to fit these giant girls, or just tailor make it yourself if you have time 😅

[wiredalienvampire]

finally finished my interpretation of raymesis, this was a lot of fun to make, i got to make him the emo eggplant he was always meant to be

[summertaters]

Ka-Ka-KACCHAKO

[kuruk]

I get people have kind of a bitchy attitude about it but you don't need to get personally offended that it's a turn off for a lot of people for a date to order chicken nuggets at a serious restaurant. you don't need to make fun of people for eating poorly but it's understandable for that to be a turn off like things like that are often turn offs for a lot of people. I don't know why people are insisting on changing other people's turn offs like as if it's morally wrong to be put off because of certain habits. it's a little weird to act like "why do you care what other people do and eat" when it's not like random people but a date who you're allowed to be turned off by for a lot of reasons. it feels like some are just taking it personally but it's not like you're trying to fuck them relax

[icarusbetide]

i know washingdad jokes are more of a fanon, musical thing but really. i genuinely believe in my soul that historical washington was the type of guy to hear his aides chant "we want mcdonalds we want mcdonalds" and silently enter the drive-through just to order one black coffee, no cream no sugar and leave.

[arawsuu]

Had to draw Dew even though hes burnt and a bitch

[pant--eater]

thinking about the fact that Melisha is canonly traumatized from the chicken escape incident, being thrown into the pie machine and basically getting nearly boiled alive in gravy.... it's probably really hard to talk about the PTSD to most people without sounding weird or crazy. "Beaten up and nearly cooked by a bunch of chickens on an airplane"? Would have many people laughing in its absurdity.

No wonder she masks it all with the "strong and charismatic businesswoman" facade and refuses to show weakness :''') i also love the hcs that she wears that full-body covering outfit and gloves, to cover her burn marks

[cruesuffix]

found this interview bout a week or two ago and thought it was pretty funny. nikki and mick make so much noise you can barely hear them at times. at one point they even order mcdonalds and continually rustle the bag and stuff. it’s extremely loud at some parts (sudden coughs and the bag rustling) so maybe keep the volume down so you don’t get jumpscared. also if you don’t like the sound of ppl eating this might not be for you either…it’s not loud but it is noticeable.

[tinyalechardy]

For anyone wondering. Tiny hardy is fine after that fall. He is just feeling a little daized. Might have a minor concussion. I'll take good care of him so don't worry.

[idiasmentalhealth]

if i had a dollar for every time i knew a character who's:

1. nonbinary

2. with white hair

3. in a dating sim

i'd have 4 dollars. which is quite a bit, and something tells me there's more i just don't know about.

[grayscale-sparks]

Art block is murdering me dead so I doodled my boy Adam in @arthur-lesters-spinal-cord Bellaverse AU, Echoes and Edelweiss

context and yapping:

So Echoes and Edelweiss has three main storylines going on. The main story with Bella and the Lillith fragment Echo, an arkayne cultist story called Black Dahlias, and Adam’s story.

it was oriiiginally going to be called Yellow Carnations but since I'm indecisive I changed it to Rosemary For Remembrance. Take a wild guess where that one came from.

Anyway, basically what goes down is Adam gets stuck with a fragment of the King in Yellow which takes his voice instead of his eyes. They share the vocal cords. It’s a disaster.

and then at some point Adam ends up in Yhoundeh’s realm. Which to me is like a camp with like. Tents and huts n stuff. In a swamp/near a swamp. Lots of cypress trees and vines and stuff. Hence the obligatory swamp fit.

[bitching-and-witching]

I don’t really have a caption but I thought that everyone should see my cat

[violetscharcoal]

Gregory violet modern au

part 1: confession <3

notes: just pure fluff, also no he doesn’t mean to act like a creep, he just is like that naturally. also I wanna turn this into a mini series! just 3 or 4 parts orsmt idk

also english isnt my first language and I’m dyslexic so if there are some spelling mistakes then shut up.

(AND IF YOU HAVE GREG MODERN AU HEADCANONS PLS SEND THEM IN!!! ID LOVE TO HEAR THEM!!!!)

He spotted you a few times in hallways, never talking to you, just.. staring?.. he never considered you a ‘crush’ just someone who stood out in a crowd!

until he noticed that whenever he made a portrait, it slowly started looking like you, he groaned and tried again… again, again and again… everytime it had atleast one of your features, your nose, eyes, hair and just whatever he found the prettiest.. which is everything.

So eventually he started looking for you, slowly following your schedule, maybe a bit creepy but whatever…

You noticed little drawing being left to you. of your favorite flowers, animals, characters. and it slowly turned into litte poems!

a few months after this started you sat in the library, just studying. or atleast you tried to. there was a guy staring at you, a familiar guy who you’ve see around before! you didn’t think much of it, I mean sure he was kinda cute, his hair always being a bit messy, his hood hiding his face looking a bit mysterious… you where interested in him but never really got the courage to walk up to him…

but now you’re sitting alone in the library with him, the boy occasionally glancing at you. you take a small breath and look up as well, catching his gaze. it clearly caught him of guard as he looks away immediately. his cheeks turn into a slight crimson red, quite cute.

until suddenly he softly slides a piece of paper to you, ofcourse you grab it and gently fold it open. A letter? he wrote you a love letter? you read it and realize that the writing style was familiar!

you look at him again, but he’s gone along with his stuff and everything… but its okay, he really is a sweetheart <3

(and perhaps your sweetheart???)

[sreabhadh]

So. I slipped and fell. And now I have a nearly 2k word long Vortex fic to release into the wild. And yes, I do mean Vortex, not TexAid- this predates Vortex's death. (Don't worry, I'm getting there, I have plans). (There as in Vortex's death. I hope it turns out as juicy as I want it to and is as juicy to others as it is to me.

Mandatory Vortex trigger warning. I would say standard TexAid warning but First Aid isn't in this one.

Blood, gore, death, violence, language, Shockwave. I am scared enough of Shockwave to consider him his own trigger warning lol.

Hope you guys like it!

**********************************************************

Vortex’s vision was filling up with red. Figuratively. They were going to pay. Vortex had figured it all out, and they were going to pay. Vortex checked the time, grinding his teeth with a furious snarl. It’s not enough. Not enough for the bastards that did this. Not enough to make them bleed until their pristine white lab coats are the brightest shade of red. Not enough to make them drown in their own precious fluids, with as many holes and cuts on their bodies as Vortex’s little brother had bandages on his body. A stab of the knife for every stab of the needle, a twist of the knife for every bruise, a slice for every inch of cloth wrapped around him. They brought Swindle to the edge of death then made him dance. Vortex was going to make them beg for such a merciful treatment, and then he would make sure they never came back.

His fingers ran over each of his weapons in each of their hidden pockets and sheaths, memorizing them physically, where each one was and how many he had of each. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have any of them. Vortex had gotten quite skilled at hiding them though, and his stockpiles had grown substantially over the years. They were going to be quite useful tonight. Tonight there was a meeting of the higher ups, to discuss the recent influx of monsters on the Western plains. Vortex hadn’t received an invitation, but he was writing his own. He’d have to write it after he was already inside, which wasn’t how invitations worked, but he needed blood to write this invitation, and he wasn’t going to use his, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to use Swindler’s. It was fine. He’d just write the invitation so it would be inviting them to hell, instead of inviting himself to the party. They had gotten lax. They’d trained their attack dog, set him loose on monsters, promoted him, given him treats and trinkets, forgetting more and more every day to worry about how his teeth would feel piercing their flesh. Vortex could act like a good boy, walk right in on their party, and unleash hell. And boy was it going to be a hell of a party.

Vortex’s vision filled with red. Literally. It was such a beautiful color. Made a real splash on the decor. Literally. The screaming had already started, though Vortex had only just begun. His first target, the one most responsible for what had been done to Swindle and the others, lay on the table choking on his own velvet-colored fluids as they eagerly ate up the horde of white sheets and notes of paper lining the table edges. Vortex’s remaining party poppers, the other inhabitants of the room had scattered, clambering over one another to get to the door. Which wasn’t working, silly thing. Them and their fancy automatic doors made of fancy metal to keep them safe. Never did work correctly when there were psychopathic murders on the loose and killing everyone in the room. How inconvenient. For them. Vortex grinned like a mad man, hopping up on the table with the glee of a 5 year old on their birthday. Like a normal 5 year old that is- Vortex couldn’t remember any birthday parties at that or any other age. He sniggered, then lost himself in a howl of truly demonic laughter. It wasn’t his birthday, but it was never too late to make up for lost time.

“WELCOME TO MY PARTY YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT!” Vortex crowed from his new table for standing on and giving ominous speeches of vengeance (now in deep cherry red, no tablecloth required to provide a pop of color).

One person was still sitting at the table, probably in shock. Vortex ignored them. He could kill them after their panic set in enough to make them scream in terror. Failing that he could just make them scream in agony.

Many in the room turned from their fleeing positions to regard him with horror. Others ignored him, banging and slamming on the door, calling for help. Ha. Idiots.

“I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY WHAT I’VE PREPARED, THOUGH NONE OF YOU CAN STAY FOR VERY LONG-”

Vortex gave the line a moment to sink in their panic-filled heads before continuing.

“AS YOU’LL ALL BE RECEIVING A PERSONAL ONE-WAY INVITATION TO A VERY SPECIAL PLACE!”

“YOU MAY HAVE HEARD OF IT! IT’S MUCH BETTER THAN HERE REALLY, YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE IT!”

“Bloody hell!” someone exclaimed. Vortex shot them in the head. The air exploded with a new chorus of shrieks and screams as vibrant as the colors that had exploded from the skull he shot. The monster-slaying caliber weapon might have been a bit overkill and then some on a human head. Some of the shrapnel embedded itself in other people’s bodies and skulls. It was perfect. The screams were delicious.

“EXACTLY! HELL! CONGRATS YOU FIGURED IT OUT! YOU ALL GET A ONE WAY TICKET TO HELL, FREE OF CHARGE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO EVERYONE, IT’S THE LAST THING YOU’LL CELEBRATE!”

That last line hadn’t come out quite how Vortex wanted, but the lab coats and neck ties were still quaking in terror, so it was doing its job regardless.

Vortex lifted the now-dead corpse on the table by the collar of its tie. This is what they would all get for hurting his family. For hurting Swindle. He wanted to yell that part more ferociously than he had anything else, but he couldn’t. He had been conditioned into not showing any weakness and not giving the enemy anything to work with. He wasn’t going to give them that. They could die not knowing exactly what they had died for, but Vortex would know. That’s what mattered.

Vortex stabbed the corpse a few dozen times for good measure. He’d been distracted enough not to notice when exactly the man had expired, but he wasn’t breathing, and never would, which Vortex took as a good thing. Disappointing that he had gone so quickly, the bastard deserved worse than that, but at least he was gone. He’d never hurt Swindle or anyone else ever again. Now for the others. Cowering and cringing before him like, well, he didn’t have anything pathetic enough to compare them to. These were the people responsible for so many deaths and so much suffering and they couldn’t handle a little blood? A single combatant? There were more than enough of them to have at least tried fighting him, but no one seemed inclined.

Or not. Vortex whipped around at the sound of a scraping chair, ready to defend himself and fell his attacking victim. To put them down like they fucking deserved. The person with the chair wasn’t attacking though. They merely had a hand on the back of it, and their face was turned away from Vortex. The hell was that about? It was the person who had stayed sitting earlier, the one in shock. What were they doing? Were they still in shock? They didn’t look like they were in shock, though Vortex couldn’t tell without being able to see their face.

Alarm bells rang in Vortex’s mind, and he instantly shifted from gleeful murder spree mode to careful predator mode. He couldn’t be sure what this person thought they had up their sleeve or what they were doing, but it wasn’t going to get in the way of his vengeance. Or his fun.

Languidly, they brought a hand up to their face, then cast it aside like a used cigarette. The mask they discarded crashed noisily against the wall and down to the floor, electronic pieces sparking and fizzing as they continued to display the holographic image of a normal person’s face. Vortex felt his heart begin to race. There was only one person on base ever rumored or seen to wear a mask. He hadn’t realized there was a holographic aspect to the mask. He’d never heard of that, but he did know of one person who supposedly wore a mask.

The figure turned, and Vortex felt a wave of terror roll over him. One eye. No face. One eye, glowing with quiet confidence and casual malice. How many people had seen Shockwave’s face and lived to tell the tale? It’s him. Vortex’s knees buckled, almost sending him spilling off the table like a fumbled glass of milk. A number of the other occupants in the room passed out.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit FUCK. It was him. He was real. He was real and staring Vortex right in the face. Unblinking with his singular nonhuman eye. It- he, Shockwave- tilted his head. A question. A challenge. That much Vortex could read in the monster’s cold humanoid figure. Vortex no longer felt like a careful predator or a gleeful 5 year old.

He felt very small, and very tiny. As insignificant and meaningless as a dented piece of equipment that had finally stopped serving its purpose. A crippled rat strung up and helpless to the slaughter. Vortex snarled, though his heart wasn’t in it. He lifted his monster-slaying gun by instinct with the battle-hardened limbs and muscles trained to work long after Vortex’s mind had taken a leave of absence. He fired. And fired again, then again, and again, releasing a halestorm of fire. Surely that would work. Surely it had to. Surely. He’d never make fun of anyone for using an overpowered gun instead of a good knife ever again. Sometimes guns were overpowered for a reason.

Sometimes being overpowered wasn’t enough. The gun overheated, safety fail clicking on, rendering it useless. The gun slipped from Vortex’s fingers, then clattered hollowly to the table. Vortex wanted to run. Wanted to hide. Find the darkest, quietest, most remote corner of existence and curl up inside it and whimper like a kicked pup. Fear. Vortex had not felt that emotion, truly felt it, been consumed by it in a very long time. He had banished it, cut it out with his bare hands and removed it forever. No longer. Vortex was afraid. More so than he had ever been in his entire life. More than every terrifying moment and memory of his life combined. He had enough to fill a stadium with, but they wilted in comparison to this. This thing. The monster. Shockwave.

Shockwave stood, unmoved, unconcerned. He, it had not a scrap of clothing left, but Shockwave had no need for human decency. Shockwave was not human. His metallic “skin” fuzzed a moment, then was replaced with the holographic image of clothing. It was a bit blurry, but it didn’t matter. The wall, the ceiling and floor, that entire section of the room had been destroyed. Shockwave stood in the midst, completely unharmed. Completely unphased.

Vortex still wanted to run. Wanted to whimper and hide. But he was dead now anyway, so he gave his best snarl, which came out as a half-choked hiss, and lunged, aiming for that singular sinister eye with his good knife hand.

Shockwave caught him by the throat, and Vortex felt the hologram fizz uncomfortably against the skin beneath the vice grip of Shockwave’s cold metal fingers. Vortex’s body moved reflexively, mind working desperately, but his attempts were as fruitless as before. He could kick, punch, jab and twist as finely as the best trained wolf, which he was, but in Shockwave’s grasp he was but a mewling pup.

Shockwave slammed Vortex into the wall, and Vortex heard himself cry out. It was a far away sound, and his vision swam, the concussion from the blow already threatening to shut his brain down. Shockwave slammed him into the wall again, and Vortex groaned, unbeknownst to himself. His body rag-dolled limply in Shockwave’s grasp. Vortex was out like the light of a birthday candle on a lone velvet cupcake.