#but I know this will never reach you

[river--ghost]

work all night on a drink of rum

daylight come and me wan go home

stack banana til the morning come

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

lift six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say day

me say day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

a beautiful bunch of ripe banana

daylight come and me wan go home

hide the deadly black tarantula

daylight come and me wan go home

lift six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say day

me say day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

dayo

dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say day

me say day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

[azrael-the-lucifan]

A Letter to Laura

Dear Laura,

Do you remember me? I remember you. With your yellow hair you insisted was strawberry blonde. The crisscross tan lines you would get in the summer from your pink sketchers sandals; they were your favourite shoes. Some things I don’t remember now, the sound of your voice, your laugh. I don’t remember which of us was taller or who could run the fastest. But that’s okay. Humans are meant to forget things, it makes room for new memories. But I hope you don’t completely forget me. I know I will never completely forget you.

I often think about driving past your old house even though I know you haven’t lived there for years. I never do. I sometimes think about all the fun we had there. Playing RuneScape only to go around scamming people into giving us expense items when we saw the “buying gf” text come up. You were thrilled when someone traded you a diamond ring. I remember watching Twitches, your favourite movie, and stealing the whole box of your brother’s Halloween candy. Do you still have your camcorder? It had all those videos of us building ridiculous contraptions in hopes of getting on AFV, even though we never submitted the videos.

Do you ever drive past my old house? Do you remember using the hose to turn my plastic slide into a water slide? What about the bonfire we had in an old dryer drum? I have the photo from that day on my wall. What about the time we were bored and walked around the street in some old Sully and Mike costumes that barely fit us? Are these memories as special to you as they are to me? I guess I’ll never know.

It has been 13 years since last we spoke. Why did you stop talking to me? One day you no longer wanted to be my partner for projects. You stopped playing witches at recess. You wouldn’t pick the same team as me in gym class. It was like I didn’t exist. Like the past 6 years we had been nothing more than classmates; not best friends. You left school for a while after getting in a fight with the other Laura; we thought we would never see you again. Did you know Spencer got in trouble when a sub did roll call and when they got to your name he said “she doesn’t come to school anymore”? Then, a week before March break, you came back. You acted like nothing had happened. Asked us if we wanted any souvenirs from your upcoming trip to Disney. We said no thanks. You didn’t apologize. You didn’t acknowledge the distance you had created. March break came and went, and so did you. We never saw you again. You switched schools.

A year later I caught a glimpse of you at the movies. I wondered what you were going to see. Were you still a fan of Pirates of the Caribbean? But I didn’t approach. You were with your new friends. I hope you treated them better than you did me. Why did you stop talking to me? Did six years of friendship mean so little to you? Six years of partnering for every assignment. Six years of sleepovers. Six years of watching our brothers’s baseball games. Six years we were best friends. Half our lives at that point. Now it has been twice as long since then. And I still don’t know why you stopped taking to me.

I don’t trust the way I used to. Because if you threw me away after six years, why won’t someone else? I wish you had told me why.

Dear Laura,

I hope you’re doing well.

[vaxxildamn]

finally…… the legendary Level 20 Scissor Gal-adin

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good Morning, World.

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[bunnieswithknives]

OK JUST A LITTLE THING BECAUSE IM INSANE @cubbihue

Song: Plastic by Cheekface

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[sunlit-mess]

consumed by the inevitable

[royaltea000]

paypig pov

[ghostvibesonly]

my mental stability lies in the hands of a cockroach

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I imagine barnaby trying to be all cool and flirting with howyd subtly but his smoke gives him away fjsns

he thinks he's smooth smh...

[egophiliac]

Have you heard of the "Crowley is Malleus' dad" theory going around? Where Prince Levan (or whatever his name is) didn't actually die and just went out to get some milk and is now known as Dire Crowley, the silly man? The implications of that theory is absolutely hilarious when you think about it

hold on, we can figure this out, we just need LISTS

PROS THAT CROWLEY IS SECRETLY REVAAN/LEVAN/LAVERNE/WHATEVER:

unspecified fae of some kind, with similar coloring to Mal

the animal masks are apparently a Briar Valley thing

has some kind of big blackmailable secret that was alluded to in episode 4, and then as far as I know never brought up again

(unless this was just Azul bullshitting, which is extremely possible)

based on Diablo, which...maybe means something?

has canonically worn Dad Shorts

CONS:

(gestures to Crowley's entire personality)

NO LISTEN Revaan was the guy they sent off on diplomatic missions and to take care of delicate political situations, and...look, I love this dweeb, but would you trust Crowley to be in charge of negotiating your war treaties

despite my brain insisting on reading his name as "Raven", Revaan's title does imply that he was also a dragon (or super into longan berries, I'm not ruling that out)

currently unclear why Lilia "my closest friend Revaan...he is no longer with us...I used to make fun of him for being kind of a priss about eating jerky..." Vanrouge has somehow not noticed or said anything

Malleus' Aloof Anime ~Aristocrat~ vibe had to come from somewhere, and by all accounts it was NOT his mom's side of the family

???:

turns into a bird in the opening, I don't know if that means anything but it's kinda cool, I guess

all that aside, if Malleus and Yuu are any indication, then the Draconias have...questionable taste in their social choices. so anything is possible!

[girlboyburger]

thank you

[tsuchinokoroyale]

Happy new years… let’s stay hydrated together ✨

[dizzybizz]

some doodles

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sharing is Caring!

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[arkarti]

We both reached for the gun | Animation

wanted to try some typo animation for a change :3

Also on Youtube!