#dinking

[noellellelle]

look at this

[velokultur]

[stellarspecter]

[kirkklan2]

An Animation Round-up (April - May)

I'm still unsure of whether or not to upload this to either my main YouTube or my second animation channel (Which I've been thinking about gearing up for more "Behind-the-Scenes" stuff)

[ahotknife]

[himorenart]

Doodles of my favorite horses on cave walls!

[jurassicshields]

Aliens

[markmcole]

How Do I Improve My Pickleball Playing?

Here are some tips to improve your pickleball playing: Practice, practice, practice: The more you play, the more you will improve. Try to play at least a few times a week, if possible. Focus on your footwork: Footwork is crucial in pickleball. Practice moving quickly and efficiently around the court, making small steps and keeping your weight on the balls of your feet. Improve your serve: Work…

[picklemenot302]

PickleMeNot.com

[koiinoborii]

Dink

[narsh-poptarts]

my dark link thoughts coalesced into wonderful headcanons and crazy amounts of forced perspectives and dutch angles

also sorry HW i would have included your dark link(s) but i do not have passion for your game <3 maybe next time

Some thoughts below

I have thoughts about dark link that boil down to basically two things: 1. it's always the same dark link, and 2. dark link has a very difficult time changing.

No matter how many times dark link is brought into existence, he is formed from the shadow of link usually to test link's will. that shadow can be duplicated (as seen in HW) but generally speaking it's the same guy, sharing the thought space, you know how it is. In terms of sentience/thinking for himself, I don't think there's all that much of it. He is a dark reflection/shadow of link, so shares his abilities and thought patterns (for combat) with added aggression and. evil. i guess.

As said by navi, "conquer yourself", and all that. He's a challenge to the inner will power.

That being said!!! he can have a little bit of individuality, as a treat. Just in the form of being mean and sadistic <3 he's got thoughts, he's not just a combat doll (tho in times of low power, or a greater power having the reins, he reverts to that), so he can be frustrated, vindicated, happy, etc etc. though when your thoughts are mainly "evilevilevilevilevil" your idea of these emotions are a bit skewed.

When he's summoned for each different link, i hc that it's all the same magic, so the same dark link every time. he "remembers" in an abstract sense of his role in the same way a link or zelda "remembers" their own reincarnation. tho his is less of a reincarnation and more being used over and over again. a persistence.

The iteration that's summoned reflects the current link at the time, the part of link that needs testing/defeating, so it's not an existence that he himself can change to match the present. he's locked to that first copy/shadow only. So if he were to have a second encounter with an older link, he'd look like the first time they fought, unless he was specifically re-summoned. i hc he's got limited magic, so this is not something he can do himself.

in a links-meet scenario, his form would be limited to those specific forms of the links, and it would always be the points in time in which he first encountered them, unless there's other magic either he or someone else has access to to allow him to change forms to match.

now you might be saying at this point "wouldn't he be a weaker match if he was put up against an older link?" yeah probably lol. but also!!! i like the idea that with the limited magic he has, he's able to change juuuust enough to stay relatively evenly matched. being able to play to different strengths and all that. but the base stuff is still the same, so he is decently easy enough to read if link remembers the kind of stuff he was pulling back when he originally fought dark link.

dark link also knows about all this so while limited to the particular skillset, is able to adapt slightly.

but yeah been thinking a lot about a links-meet au where dark link is there choosing a different link to be every time he appears to the party.

though there are a couple links that he never impersonates in their games!!! so can't change into those guys unless he gets a new round of copycat magic.

Anyways goodbye guy standing there with standard camera angle, i have dutch angles and forced perspective

[porcelian]

16, CLUMSY AND SHY 01

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: jason todd and you try and navigate young puppy love ;

WARNINGS: none at all, maybe me rambling a bit about emma and eli (boule de suif) ;

WORD COUNT: 2.0k ;

NOTES: this was inspired by @jteime 's asks. haven't added the marvel crossover part, but i enjoyed writing this kind of teen au so much that i might add a second part. it's just i've never done a crossover.

── .✦ MASTERLIST & NAVIGATION & AO3.

THE LINGERING HINT OF CHALK AND DRY ERASE MARKERS DO NOTHING TO SOOTHE JASON'S NERVES. Instead, they leave an uncomfortable taste on his tongue. The smell is a heavy one, just like the weight in the pit of his stomach. It's like an anchor, bringing him down into the dark sea with nothing to cling onto.

Jason threw the idea of trying to compose himself out of the window as soon as he entered the rather small classroom. His hands gripped the dense books and slightly crumpled papers close to his chest, fingers awkwardly wrapped around his pencil so as to not drop it.

Walk into the room with your head held high, babybird. Confidence is key, he remembers Dick saying.

Well, he isn't like Dick, nor Bruce. He can't help but feel the thousands of pairs of eyes on his back, scrutinizing every step he takes.

Comparative Literature.

This is supposed to be a course Jason enjoys, not one that makes him feel as if he's walking on needles, not one that makes the air feel to heavy and the hours spent in the classroom too long and miserable.

Jason speeds to his desk near the corner of the room, next to the window. His eyes often wander to it, watching the same part of the courtyard staring back at him through the window. He settles his supplies on his desk.

The Art of Realism: Depicting Social Class and Individual Morality in 19th-Century Literature.

The title of the essay states back at him. The review session is creeping up closely and the horrid anticipation of it feels as if it's going to eat him whole.

Jason knows it's silly, it's just a classroom, not the streets of Gotham at the dead of night. Hell, he'd be more comfortable in some run down alley than he is now in this room, with it's grating sound of the chalk and suffocating smell of the markers.

His thoughts threaten to drown out the rest of the world, until the sound of the chair next to him being moved catches him off guard.

The sound makes him tear his gaze away from his papers to the stranger sitting down next to him. A new student, maybe?

By the way your knuckles are turning white from gripping the chair to hard, Jason can tell you're nervous too.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer, “I didn't mean to interrupt you.”

He moves closer to the wall next to him to offer you more space, a bit perplexed on why you'd choose to sit with him.

“N–no, it's alright.” He responds, ducking his head down and facing the window. He catches the little frown on your face reflected on the window glass, fogged from the cold air outside. He sees the way the corner of your lips drop as he turns away.

Shit. He's being rude. This is totally not what Dick taught him.

“Uh,” he hesitates, searching for something to say, “are you new here? It's just I haven't seen you around.”

Jason hopes he's right. If not, he's made himself look like more of a jerk in front of you for basically saying he's never noticed your presence.

You nod as you answer. “Yep! I'm really glad I got in.” A small smile dances on your lips in a way that has Jason paying attention with the way your cheeks rise up when you grin, making your eyes smile alongside you.

They smile with their eyes.

He gets caught off guard again when you shuffle closer to take a look at the papers scattered around his part of the shared desk.

‘...wept, and sometimes a sob she could not restrain was heard in the darkness between two verses of the song.’

Your quiet but melodic voice carries the words with a softness Jason only imagined in his mind. The same way he read the words on worn-out papers during the countless nights he spent in the manor library, tucked away, sure of the fact he'd never hear it from another person.

The world has a funny way of proving Jason wrong. He's staring at your lips, thinned in concentration just like your furrowed brows.

“Boule de Suif!—” You exclaim, before your eyes go wide and you muffle your words with a hand over your mouth. “—Sorry!”

Jason chuckles before relaxing into the chair. “It's okay.” He shuffles closer to you, peering down at your own essay written on neat paper, so unlike his own. The words on the pages are all too familiar to him.

‘There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart,’—’

Jason can't help but smile as he whispers to you, “—There is nothing to be compared to it. Warmth and tenderness of heart,” he doesn't even notice the proximity of the two of you, the warmth of your presence wafts around him like the sun after a rainy day, “‘Emma’?”

You smile again, the twinkle in your eye appearing again. “Yes,” You breathe out, before your eyes go wide just like last time.

“I didn't even introduce myself.” Your name leaves your lips like a secret whispered to only him.

He thinks of your name, every syllable dances around his mind before he gives you his.

“Jason— Jason Todd.”

Maybe this classroom isn't so horrible after all, he thinks.

*****

The stadium is too loud, Jason concludes after being stuck in there for about thirty minutes. More precisely – thirty-five minutes and forty seconds, now forty-one, since he keeps checking the time and counting down to the moment when the bell rings and he can finally leave.

The air is too heavy, it feels too warm. The gym clothes are sticking and moving across his skin in such an uncomfortable way, he can't think straight. Standing all alone and leaning against the grainy surface of the wall isn't helping either.

If Jason hears the damn ball hit the stadium wall one more time, he swears he'll walk out that door himself–

“Hey!” A nervous voice calls out to him. Surprisingly, it doesn't feel as grating as the sounds of the gym.

It's you. It's you, with your hair, messy in a perfectly imperfect way. A light volleyball rests between your arm and side. Your chest rises with every breath.

Jason feels his own breath get caught in his chest as he stumbled to say something to you.

The class isn't practicing volleyball right now. So, where did you come from?

You don't wait for him to say something. “I was wondering if—” you grip the light ball in your hands, offering it to him“—you’d like to give it a try?” You zip your mouth shut as fast as you say those words.

Jason blinks. Someone wants me to join them, to hang out with them. And hell, that someone is you.

“Best of three?” He suggests.

“Prepare for utter defeat, Todd.”

“I'd like to see you try.”

*****

The courtyard is a little too quiet for Jason's liking. He should be happy, he can finally gather his thoughts without anything getting in his way.

For some reason those thoughts are only occupied by a certain someone who shows up just at the right time, saving him from the utter boredom and misery of Gotham Academy life.

He wishes he could hear you call out to him again. The way his last name sounds so natural on your tongue. How you're so unafraid of speaking it.

Jason thinks you're brave. Probably much braver than him. He still can feel his breath get ripped right out of his lungs when he tries to get your attention. The way your name gets stuck in his mouth, kept inside him just like his wishes and attempts to spend time with you.

The first step is always difficult, Bruce had said to him a few days back, after that it gets easier.

Gets easier? Jason thinks Bruce was lying to him somehow. He feels his face warm up and brows furrowing. Why was the thought of approaching you getting him so worked up?

It's not like you had felt any different. You were nervous too, right? Or did he imagine that? He should ask, right? Yes, he should.

Jason knows exactly where you settle down to eat your lunch— that almost abandoned side of the garden west of the Academy. If he's quick enough, he can make it to you before the bell rings.

He's about to sprint out of the courtyard when he hears the same soothing voice call out to him.

“Todd!”

He doesn't know why it calms him down so quickly.

“There you are.” You say as you walk to him with a lunchbox in your hand.

“Here.” You push it forwards to him, the chocolate chip cookies smell waft in the air and it almost distracts him from the way your free hand is tucking the loose hair strands away from your face. “My dad made extra.”

“Oh—” he stutters while a shy smile appears on his lips. “—thank you.”

“No problem.” You smile at him and he watches the way your cheeks rise up just like the day in the corner of the classroom.

They smile with their eyes.

Jason wonders if you ever notice how he only smiles when he's with you. Do you notice how he only talks with you?

Silly, isn't it?

*****

The sun is staring down at Jason as he walks down the cobblestone road to the gate. Just beyond that Bruce sits in the car waiting.

Jason's gripping his backpack closer to his body. He tried to slow down his steps. His eyes dart around him, trying to find you, with your perfectly imperfect messy hair tied back, neat papers and folders in your arms as you walk home.

He isn't going to back down from this. Jason hasn't backed down from facing robbers and all kinds of criminals in the darkest parts of Gotham and he won't be frightened by this either.

By this, he means asking for your number.

His fingers wrap around the cold car door handle as he glances one more time around the yard, eyes looking for you.

“Searching for something?—”

Jason's ears perk up as he hears Bruce's calculated words. Calculated in a way he knows that his dad is trying not to sound obvious that he has figured out the fact that something or a certain someone is tugging at his son's heart.

“—or someone?”

Maybe Bruce noticed it when his son came back considerably more relaxed and happy after School, or maybe, it was when Dick told him that Jason seemed very interested in learning how to approach someone and ask them to hang out.

Jason scolds himself for being so obvious. His palms start to sweat.

“No—” the words die on his tongue as he spots you leaving the gates of the Academy.

Jason leaves Bruce waiting in the car as he runs up to you, yelling out your name.

He can see how quickly you recognise his voice, how quickly you snap out of what reverie you were lost in and how your eyes search across the yard to find him. Jason's heart aches when he sees how your eyes smile just like last time when you finally spot him.

You say his name, the sound is too sweet with your voice. He wonders how it would sound when talking on the phone. Jason concludes it doesn't matter if it's in person or on the phone, miles away.

He just wants to hear you.

“I was wondering if—” he stops to look into your eyes, the twinkle in them remind him of the lone star in the obsidian midnight sky. “—if I could get your number?”

Jason sees the surprise on your face, the faint pink hue on your cheeks, the fidgeting of your fingers.

“Y’know,” he stammers, “for school work and such.” He's lying. He's sure you know as well, because the warmth of his cheeks is probably caused by the same pink hue on them just like the one on yours.

“Of course.” You blurt out, “why didn't I think of that?” You giggle, the sound of it like a song to his ears.

“Let me be the one who asks this,” He says with a smile, “you always manage to surprise me, so…”

Your eyes nervously dart from his face to the ground near your shoes. “Well—,” you click your tongue, “—you just have to try harder next time, Todd.”

“Next time, huh?”

“Yes.”

© PORCELIAN ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[crazygnomenclature]

[so-you-read-the-usernames]

One of the many benefits of Tumblr is that I don’t have to wade through the tags of people trying to censor Dick Grayson’s name

[sleepymakeslumemes]

thought a few of these fit a little too well.... hahahahaha

where to find each panel i took: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

[kikker-oma]

Fan Joy July - Day 5

This scene from @skyloftian-nutcase 's fic, Elastic Heart , made me SCREECH!

The way Sky is fighting and pushing himself physically and the WAR that is happening mentally?! DEAD. PLEASE read❤️❤️