#but this isn’t too bad

[wybienova]

i can make my own posts too

[greykolla-art]

Ooooh careful, Alastor! Your line between manipulation and genuine care is getting blurryyyyyyyyyy 👀!

I missed drawing them man! Miss Sweet and mister Scary in situations together is my favourite! ❤️ (but did it have to span 9 coloured pages I almost died?!)

(No I won’t do a part 2 😘!)

[chloesimaginationthings]

This could be a kart if FLAF wasn't fucking around..

[fiasco95]

Regulus, Barty and Evan walking by, the couple sneering and glaring at the other two Marauders while Regulus doesn’t spare them a single glance.

James: Well if it isn’t Regulus Black and his ladies-in-waiting!

James: Regulus wants me so bad.

Peter: You’ve never even talked to him before!

James: Oh, I’ve talked to him, okay?

Peter:

James: …in my mind.

James: And let me tell you, in my mind….he wants me so bad.

[justalittleguest]

[edwinisms]

george rexstrew deserves awards for many things but i have to say. edwin’s bloodcurdling scream as niko gets killed deserves a whole award unto itself. like. that scream did not feel at all like a tv show scream. to a somewhat jarring degree. and i can’t express how much I respect that

[torglives]

can i stand up and say that ros AND yellow are completely irredeemable from lukeys pov or will the audience not like that one. because it’s honestly just been something that’s been bothering me a little bit. the way they talk about him like he’s less than human gets under my skin. can i just rant for a minute. is this okay with everyone.

like imagine you’re thrown into this new world and someone you’ve never met hates you for hearing your voice in a pocket dimension. and then murders you for it like an hour into your life. and then everyone acts like it’s okay because she’s going through a real rough time. and yeah she is, but how does that make it okay? they defend it, because she was scared, but you were scared too. what about your fear? you didn’t even do anything. she keeps threatening to kill you, and you can’t do anything, and you’re powerless. and then you join the opposing faction, because why wouldn’t you. and then her factionmate kills you a few days later. and it’s all one big joke. the entire faction hates you and they believe you’re evil, because they have to justify themselves somehow. no enemy of the kingdom can be innocent, so you must be evil, but you don’t even know who you are yet. and the king takes responsibility for all of it, willingly.

and you’re not perfect, but you try to remain kind. you ask her if she’s comfortable with you attending her event, and as you’re leaving, she calls you back and tries to murder you. again. and she’s friends with the guy you’ve sworn your life to, who’s likewise sworn to keep you safe. and she tells him it was just a little tap, like it was nothing. later, you try to stick up for yourself, defend your innocence, and she tells you that she doesn’t view you as an equal, much less a human being. your death does not matter to her because she doesn’t believe you deserve to live. she doesn’t believe you’re anything at all. "you’re nothing to me, lukey," and everyone lets it happen.

she continues to berate and belittle you, and threaten your life, and so does everyone else, because they’ve decided you’re evil. and it’s funny. and you’re weak. sneeg, and ros, and tina, and zam—and foolish lets them. and then ros dies. and she comes back weird and wrong, and people say to you try to start over, so you try, bitterly. but you’re evil. she calls you a dog. a pet. mocks you. says you make her want to be violent.

"like, i hardly touched lukey, and he hasn’t stopped whining about it."

and something’s got to give. someone has to take responsibility, so,

"i didn’t plan this, foolish. but i’m letting it happen. much like you did."

and everyone screams, see! we knew he was evil all along! we were right! — but this was never your decision to begin with. it’s never mattered what you truly are, because they’d already decided for you.

[smallpapers]

Rough quick comic about waiting..

My terribly late contribution to Make A Terrible Comic Day (which tbf I only just found out about it)

[porcelainbirdss]

one for luck, one for…

summary: in which your friend Phainon decided to play with your hair just before the bell rings — and by some miracle, your deepest covets became satiated.

cw: fem!reader, fem!Phainon, modern au, fluff, Phainon is kinda a mean girl so probably ooc, she’s crushing hard on reader, possessiveness. || wc: 2.7k

"oh, [name]! do you sit here now?" Phainon inquired, her lips stretched into a wide smile as she took in your form, trying to organize your stuff. the bell would ring in about fifteen minutes — and your teacher was always ever so strict, so you preferred to have your notebooks and pencil-case neatly placed — just in case.

you nodded, trying to form your expression into something cordial — the girl was… well, how do you say this? one of the popular ones, while you were more of a pushover, letting your wits be used by others. however, no matter how Phainon might have appeared, she never once tried to use you — if anything, she would be the one giving you answers during quizzes while you found yourself lacking in information, or helping you when the teacher asked you to answer in front of the whole class.

you didn’t understand the girl — of course, what she was doing was utterly kind, but out of all those people she could have chosen — why you?

"yes, that’s my place now." you answered politely, returning her smile as you fidgeted with your pen. for whatever reason, whenever she lied her blue, bright irises on you, you felt a tingle of something foreign spring up in your gut.

Phainon beamed, immediately taking her seat behind you. "finally, that teach made a good decision for once." she hummed, leaning to talk to you over the clamor, "i don’t know about you, but i honestly don’t like him. he’s so stuck up, isn’t he?"

you nodded along to her words, continuing to spin the pen between your fingers, thinking that perhaps this mere action could take your mind off of the way her lips glistened, coated in a thick layer or lipgloss — or how her eyelashes fluttered so sweetly, obviously painted with mascara. "yeah. he’s a pain." you admitted — or rather lied, because you didn’t truly feel as if mr. Anaxa was all that bad.

your classmate giggled briefly in response, twirling the lock of fair hair around her finger. "totally. see? at least you agree with me." she said, the corners of her lips stretching even further upwards, "ugh, always so much homework, and projects…"

with a barely-audible laugh, you nodded once more, allowing yourself to lean over her desk. you noticed her notebooks — clean, and dainty — and you wondered why she loved complaining about school so much. it’s not as if she was struggling, right?

"i wouldn’t mind if he could cut us some slack for once." you murmured, glancing over to the man busying himself with something on his laptop. if he heard you, you’d surely regret ever saying such words — but mr. Anaxa seemed engrossed in whatever he was doing, his vision keen on the screen.

Phainon tapped her nails on the wooden surface, drawing your attention back in. "maybe he’s not that bad? i mean, the new sitting plan is pretty good.” she mused, gently reaching over to your hair. you felt yourself shudder at the careful touch. "personally, i am happy. how about you?"

"yeah— yeah, me too." you stammered, wincing at how awkward that came out. the girl didn’t seem to mind, raking her fingers through your locks.

when you pulled closer to her, you could smell her perfume — you wouldn’t know exactly, as it was pretty hard to discern, but she smelled of jasmine. "you’ve got such nice hair…" Phainon swiftly changed the topic, her eyes meeting yours before she gave you a little tug, urging to turn your head. you did as she pleased.

"oh, um… you think so?" you huffed out a nervous chuckle, sitting upright in your chair. why was she always so kind to you, while she preferred to snarl at others? honestly, it remained a mystery — how Phainon always doted on you, pleaded to be your pair during group-projects, offered her brand lipsticks (which’s prices you were too afraid to even ask about), sat with you during lunch, and many, many more occurrences.

truth be told — there is no point in trying to guess her intentions. Phainon was your school friend, and for that, you were grateful — the scale of bullying you were experiencing ever since the start definitely lessened, and whenever someone tried to do as much as look at you the wrong way, they’d meet with her tight smile. it was usually enough to chase the bully away — although if they were still feeling feisty, Phainon would… well, verbally obliterate them. you seriously don’t know how she always came up with such brutal remarks on the spot.

"mhm." she hummed beside your ear, her breath tingling your nape. "it’s no wonder he has a crush on you. you’re stunning."

another thing she liked to do — complimenting you to the point where you’d be left stumbling over your words, face flushed.

"ah, don’t… he surely doesn’t." you giggled under your breath, your vision flickering over to the boy standing on the other side of the classroom. it became pretty obvious — even to your oblivious self — that he was somewhat interested in you. sometimes, when you had nothing better to do, you’d try to daydream about how lovely it would be to finally have that school love, and a boyfriend. it was a popular topic in all those movies targeted for teenagers, and so you yearned for the feeling too.

except, whenever you tried to imagine him kissing you, the boy’s image always distorted, shifting into a familiar face of Phainon, gently cupping your cheeks, and smiling at you so, so sweetly. her lips would surely feel good on yours, no? she must take care of them, because they’re smooth, and glistening with those lipglosses she loved using. oh, and her hands too — the slender, long fingers curling around your jaw, freshly smothered in balm, painted nails digging into your flesh. the intoxicating scent of jasmine would encompass all your senses before the girl pulls you into her lap, and then—

wait, what are you even thinking about?

Phainon caressed your hair with her comb, attempting to make a small braid. "don’t be silly. he ogles you all the time, [name]." she snickered lowly, tugging a knot out, "i have to admit, he has taste."

you shifted in your chair, wishing you could look at her face, and see the expression she was making. "you think so?"

"totally." she answered, her long fingernails raking through your scalp, and you had to physically stop yourself from shivering. "i mean, i guess he’s hot, but… he’s not good for you. you deserve someone way better."

your hands clenched around nothing. "why? what’s up with him?" you questioned, wondering why someone as polite as him could be a wrong match for you. the boy never came off as vicious, nor rude — at least to you.

"ah, you know," Phainon began, making another loose braid, "he likes to play nice, and all that, but he’s an asshole in reality. manipulates everyone he can." she explained, and you felt her hands briefly clench around your locks. "what a fucking jerk, trying to make my best friend his another victim."

your shoulders tensed upon her seething tone, and your heart seemed to hammer even harder now, beating at your ribs with fervor. Phainon considered you her best friend? that was… well, you thought of her the same way — maybe because she was the only one you had, but still. truthfully, you didn’t expect it — nor the disdain in her words.

"if you say so, then i’ll just—" you paused, mulling over your sentence, "if he tries to make a move, i’ll tell him to get lost. how’s that?"

that evoked a cheery laugh out of Phainon, and the amount of warmth involuntarily swelling up in your chest caused you to giggle along. "that’s my girl. every single boy can go to hell."

"every single one?" you mused lightheartedly, leaning into her touch.

you didn’t see her face, but could easily discern the smile in her voice. "yeah. we don’t need them, right?" she said, separating the next stand of hair to make yet another small braid.

you nodded, and found yourself pondering — could Phainon also be…? it’s not like you had a crush on her, no, absolutely not! but still, her words made you feel that foolish glimmer of hope, and then you weren’t sure how you truly felt about your friend. aren’t you utterly pathetic, for dreaming of her being with you, and no one else? and gods, aren’t you stupid for wishing that her tender demeanor towards you meant something more?

a short moment of silence passed before Phainon spoke again. "anyway, what are your plans for the weekend?" she asked casually, brushing a part of your hair to the side.

"nothing much." you admitted, shrugging.

"really?" she beamed, and you thought you loved how good happiness looked on the girl (or rather sounded, because you still couldn’t see her face). "well, i got invited to a party, but honestly i don’t feel like going. what do you say we go to the mall together?"

you chuckled quietly, suddenly embarrassed for whatever reason. "we could, but… i ran out of money, and my parents don’t want to give me allowance."

(the reason why you were absolutely broke right now was because Phainon’s birthday was coming up, and you spent a horrendous amount on the gift — but that’s out of the topic).

"don’t worry, [name], i can treat you!" she assured, hovering over the desk to look at your expression. "it’s really no problem for me."

"but—"

"oh, we will go to that new clothing shop they opened recently!" Phainon interrupted, a habit of hers that showed up whenever she got excited, "not to sound rude, or anything, but you definitely need a new outfit. i will choose it for you, okay?"

you craned your neck to look at her face, and almost passed out from the way her bright eyes crinkled in the corners, a wide grin stretching her lips. when Phainon allowed herself to let go of that slightly mean facade, she truly looked like an angel sent from above.

"alright, we can do that." you returned her smile, pushing away the wave of guilt threatening to creep up on you. seriously, you’ll have to beg your parents for another sum of pocket money, because there was no way you’d use her like that.

then, another girl came up to your desks, looming over Phainon. she was one of your classmates — personally, you didn’t like her, but she seemed quite close to your friend, so you decided against voicing your dismay out loud. "hey, Phainon, are you and [name] going to the mall this weekend?"

"yeah, we are." Phainon answered bluntly, still yet to pull away from you.

"can i go with you? i didn’t get invited to that party, unlike you, so frankly i have nothing better to do." she hummed, and you wanted to endlessly berate yourself for the sting of something ugly in your heart. still, it was supposed to be your outing, with no one else! why was she bumping into your business?

Phainon’s eyebrows arched upwards, and her beaming expression fell. "no, you can’t."

"but—" the girl attempted to protest, before your friend quickly glanced at her phone’s screen — three minutes until the bell rings. then, she stood up, grabbing your wrist, and pulled you out of your chair.

"i said what i said.” she barked at the girl, taking wide steps towards the door. as you walked out of the classroom, she leaned into your side, a scornful look adorning her face. "ugh, who does she think she is?" she murmured, her eyebrows narrowing together.

you allowed Phainon to tug you along, trying to keep up with her hasty pace. the amount of relief you felt at that moment was indescribable — and, no matter how awful that might sound, you felt satisfied with how she brutally turned that girl down. "but aren’t you two friends?" you spoke, entering the bathroom.

"well, yeah." Phainon rolled her eyes, opening one of the cabins, and pulling you in. you didn’t question her actions. she then rummaged through her bag, and upon failing to find whatever thing she was searching for, she let out a resigned sigh. "i mean— no, no she’s not. she acts as if we’re close, or something, but she’s a goddamn parasite."

you nodded stiffly. "okay."

"plus,” Phainon continued, taking a single step towards you, "i know you don’t like her. it’s pretty obvious, to be honest." she reached for your palm, giving it a squeeze, and you felt as if the ground opened up, promising to swallow you whole.

your blood pressure immediately spiked, and you wanted to simultaneously bolt out of the bathroom, and render the distance between you both. she was so close — so unbelievably close, you could smell the jasmine, and clearly see how her mouth curled up, smothered in that thick coat of makeup. you loved it, but at the same time wished Phainon would stop wearing it so much. she was a natural beauty, after all.

upon your lack of answer, she spoke again. "anyway, i want to go out just with you. understand? so don’t you dare invite anyone else." she whispered, her blue irises flickering over to your lips. you vividly sensed the girl’s fingers clenching harder around your hand, effectively knocking the words out of your throat.

just what was going on?

"uh, i—"

before you could finish your clumsy trail of thought, Phainon’s lips suddenly met with yours — you breathed in sharply through your nose, squeezing her palm back. the kiss was chaste, and quick, but you were completely sure if not for the grip she had on you, your knees would buckle, making you collapse on the floor.

it felt exactly as you thought it would — maybe even better. she was so soft, yet decisive, and your mind went blank with the contact. you couldn’t believe it was happening, because stuff like that only occurred in your deepest dreams — but your current situation was very much real, and you could fly up with the sheer amount of joy.

then, she pulled away, taking in your breathless form with her half-lidded eyes, snickering lowly. "wh-what was that…?" you found yourself asking dumbly, staring at her with wonder.

Phainon shrugged, her features shifting into something friendlier — and perhaps more coy, if you squinted. "this one was for luck.” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"luck— luck?" you stammered out, still too dazed to think properly.

that evoked another giggle out of her. "don’t tell me you forgot about the quiz we’re going to take now?"

you blinked once, twice, and the cogs in your brain turned, finally catching up — oh no, you really did forget, didn’t you? and at this point, you’re going to be late for class!

"maybe…?" you muttered, your vision flickering between everything, but her.

Phainon clicked her tongue, her free hand moving to grasp your chin. she pulled closer again, her mouth brushing against yours, and you thought your whole body was made out of cotton. perhaps you wouldn’t mind being late.

"one for luck, one for…" she breathed, her lips almost — almost closing around yours, but the irritably loud sound of the ringing bell caused you both to jolt. you bit your tongue in surprise, snapped out of the moment.

the girl let go of you, taking a step back with a sheepish smile, so unlike her. "sorry, [name], i— i think i got carried away." she chuckled, raking her fingers through her hair.

you immediately shook your head, trying to ignore the sting on your cheeks. you really must look like a fool right now. "no, i didn’t mind. actually, i… Phainon, i think i—"

your surge of courage got quickly dimmed by the rather obnoxious knock on the stall’s door. you winced along with your friend, exchanging troubled looks.

"girls, the break’s over! get out of the cabin, and go to class!" a voice on the other side called, and you couldn’t help but sigh in utter defeat.

Phainon leaned to you, opening the door. "we’ll finish later. don’t worry." she winked at you teasingly, a mischievous smirk growing on her lips before she stepped out, muttering some apologies to the cleaning lady.

you gaped at her, dumbfounded — and maybe you’d continue to stand frozen, if not for the woman’s stern words, nagging you to move. with reluctance, you followed in tow, trying your best not to trip over your wobbly legs.

there was no way you will pass that quiz.

[vellichorsdesire]

being horrified at your f/o’s acceptance of the bere minimum or even below that in a relationship and wanting to treat them how they deserve to be treated, full of respect and love and so much more— if they ever end up admitting that they believe they don’t deserve the work you put into being with them, or any other insecurity they might bring up, they’re always comforted by your reassurances even if you might not feel like enough for them, either. it’ll take time for them to get used to your love or really feel at peace with the fact that they deserve this, deserve you, but right now they’re sure of one thing: they love you immensely.

[alyssaweewee]

Quick doodle during my history class 👀✨

[kissboybyler]

it hits me in the head sometimes that if byler is endgame, stranger things is gonna go down in queer history big time. Like it already is, but imagine if two of the main characters are queer and in love and we get mike’s internalised homophobia and will’s fear of being too much or too gay and there’s a grant love confession and they save the world fuelled by the love they have for each other and each other only? Like it’s always been Mike and Will, Will and Mike.

That’s gonna be one of the most realistic portrayals of queer struggles and queer love in modern cinema and it’s gonna be epic and if the duffers or netflix or whoever is in charge can’t see that, they just lost a chance at changing the course of cinematic history for queer people.

[stars-obsession-pit]

Hello! Can do a chapter fic off this fic prompt Danny phantom x dc: https://www.tumblr.com/corkinavoid/767516270934556672/dpxdc-legal-power?source=share

This isn’t a one-to-one recreation of that dialogue but it’s based on that as a framework/premise

Batman dropped down into the room behind a pair of figures—a teenage boy and a slumped adult—letting his landing create an audible thump to alert them of his presence.

If the teen noticed, he didn’t react. Even as Bruce approached, he continued to stare impassively at the wheezing figure on the ground, an old wooden bat with flaking green paint on its side loosely held in his right hand. Bruce had already suspected who the figure would be since he arrived, but seeing the Joker so broken was still bizarre. No laughing, no schemes. He didn’t even seem to be attempting to escape his binds, just… lying there, almost as if pinned in place.

Bruce paused a step behind the teen. “I don’t know what the Joker did to you, but this isn’t the right way to go about this.”

The teen scoffed, and Bruce felt a painful lurch in his chest as he was reminded oh so strongly of his son Jason. “And what, let him go kill more people?”

“I know he deserves to face justice, but not like this. Everyone deserves a right to fair trial. No one person should be judge, jury, and executioner.”

The teen turned to look at him with glowing green eyes, and Batman felt himself freeze. He had faced gods before, yet even using that as a comparison felt like an understatement. The boy’s eyes belonged to someone far older than his teenage form implied, and they radiated power. Inevitability.

When the teen—no, the entity—spoke again, his words carried an unearthly echo. “Perhaps, but I’m not acting for just myself.” He paused, glanced down at the Joker, then asked almost conversationally, “Do you know how many people he’s killed?”

Another pause, but before Bruce could even try to answer, the entity continued, “Eight hundred and fifty-six. He’s ended the lives of eight hundred and fifty-six human souls. I can tell you about every single one, if you want. About who they were, what their dreams were before he killed them. About the pain they felt at his hands.”

He punctuated the word ‘pain’ by raising up the wooden bat in his hands and ramming its end down onto the Joker’s arm. He let out a wheeze, muffled by the gag in his mouth.

“I have a duty to my people. I am the King of the In-Between and of all the souls that pass through it—even ones whose stays were as brief as his. I am the rightful arbiter of his fate. And with that power, I sentence him to death.”

He raised the bat again, adjusting his grip so he’d hit with the side rather than the end this time, then paused and let out a chuckle. “Of course, just because it’s based on some justice doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun with it too.” He swung the bat down, slamming it into the Joker’s side, then hooked it under the clown’s torso and flicked him up through the air to slam into the wall. “We all really hate this guy.”

With the entity’s attention fully turned away from him as he sauntered towards the Joker’s slumped figure, Bruce could finally unfreeze himself.

Even if the Ghost King did have the right to pass judgement on Joker, Bruce still couldn’t let torture go on like this. He wouldn’t win a direct fight, but he could hopefully at least grab the Joker and bring him over to the police. Carefully, he reached for some of the smoke bombs and batarangs on his belt and readied his grapple. He’d have to do this very, very fast.

But before he could move, another figure entered the scene. Red Hood, emerging from the shadows on the far side of the room, an unexpected bit of a pep to his step.

“Nice to see someone else who gets that that bastard needs to die. But if I may make a suggestion, how ‘bout you use a crowbar instead of that old bat? It’d be a bit more… fitting.”

[chloesimaginationthings]

So why is Vanny so determined to get on Michael's good side?

It’s mostly because every one on one interactions they’ve had so far has been negative pff

[hightowerz]

i think there’s some confusion on rhaenyra’s three eldest sons. no, they were not legitimatized just because laenor claimed them as his own. no, they were not legitimatized just because corlys recognized them as laenor’s children.

in the world of westeros, bastards can only be legitimatized by royal decree. they could only be legitimized by viserys. but if he were to do that, it would confirm what literally everyone already knows, that rhaenyra slept with a man other than her husband and conceived not just one, but three children out of wedlock. they are bastards, and viserys and rhaenyra aim to have a bastard sit on the iron throne.

what rhaenyra said to her father when she was young is true. if she were a man, she could have dozens of bastards. but she cannot, as a woman and heir to the iron throne. we can talk about the westeros patriarchy and societal norms all we want, but if she were a man and sired bastards, they would be just that. bastards. if not legitimatized by viserys, they would not inherit land, they certainly could not sit on the iron throne.

things become even more complicated when rhaenyra conceives two sons that, conveniently, do have the features of old valyria. their mere existence, rhaenyra’s marriage to daemon, it already challenges the already challenged claim her sons have. it’s why, to me, rhaenyra parallels her father in the way he was selfish and sought personal happiness. in fact, she’s done the exact same thing. she, allegedly, killed her spouse (regardless of the pain it would cause to her own children and house velaryon as a whole), and remarried for her own personal happiness. she had children with her second spouse, producing sons with silver hair, similar to how alicent produced sons.

even now, she is incapable of seeing why her actions were selfish and short-sighted and how said actions put her sons in a dangerous position. she is, quite literally, just like her father.

[sansacel]

my wife