#dishing out

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[ispyspookymansion]

wtf gay little ghosthunters

[wordfather]

do it weirdly. do it offputtingly. do it freakishly.

[bet-on-me-13]

Sandwiches

So! Clark is a Kid, and he is making a sandwich, but the Ketchup he puts on it accidentally makes a Summoning Sigil.

He turns around to find a Glowing Eldritch Being floating behind him.

He stares at the Eldritch Beast.

The Eldritch Beast stares at him.

Clark wordlessly picks up 2 more slices of bread, makes a other sandwich, and offers it to Being.

It takes the Sandwich, looks at him, and smirks before saying, "Not bad." And disappearing.

The next day, Clark's parents told him that they were going to have an extremely bountiful Harvest that year, and that they would be able to pay off all of their remaining Debts, lifting all of the stress that he had seen them begin to accumulate over the years.

Later that week during the Party to celebrate their success, Clark sneaks away with a plate of Food, draws that same circle on his favorite Tree, and leaves the Plate of food alongside a note saying "Thanks!"

And thus was the start of an incredible, but rather strange, friendship.

(BTW I left the specific Ghost blank to play around with, cause maybe it wasn't Danny)

[majunju]

playgirl

[witch-craft-works]

Twst Incorrect Quotes

Random NRC student: How does it feel to be the most hated person at NRC?

Ace smugly: Listen in a campus full of losers I wear as a fucking badge of honor

Cater in the background: What about the rumors that you kissed the prefect

Ace: WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?!

[sanctferum]

the golden rule: do not do to others what you are unwilling to have done to you. indeed, whenever I annoy my mutuals by spamming a really long post anywhere from 5 to 100 times in a row, I am keenly aware that I, too, will have to scroll through the mess I have created to use tumblr dot com. my dashboard will take forever to load as much as yours will. the pain that you feel, i feel. i accept this as a necessary cost of being a horrid little prankster

[elizaisdunn]

MORE sherlocks

[coulsonlives]

This has been a reminder

[leahaart]

[luckyartdrawer]

Eclipse was a little late, but he finally found a candle to celebrate your birthday with!

(It turned out to be one of those joke candles that never blow out...)

vvvv Yapping and extras below the cut! vvvv

Sketch and Close up

Alternate sketch colors

I don't know why exactly I really like the glowy sketch version, but even if it doesn't even look like the outline stuff the vanny mask adds onto things in the dlc, it reminds me of it lol

I think it's neat!

I recently saw this art post where they drew and mentioned cannon Eclipse barely getting love and I immediately agreed. I just had to contribute ASAP. Gotta give this kind robo man a forehead smooch. v3v

I don't mean for the image to come off as entirely creepy, I just wanted it to feel like you've been staying in the dark plex with your best buddy eclipse! Stuck but at least not alone. :)

Plus I gotta let the creepy robots be creepy sometimes. It makes the sweet personalities feel even sweeter imo :P

[paunchsalazar]

gripped tight

[a-sun-baby]

Ok, so I’m imagining that if Watcher HQ is a house… Mystery Files takes place in the basement, the Ghost Files boo bunker is hundreds of feet below that. THEN that means Worth a Shot and Dish Granted are on the main level, Puppet History is in the attic, and Too Many Spirits is in the backyard.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Modern day YouTube au where Xie Lian is infamous on the internet for his catastrophic cooking channel.

[bright-and-burning]

lando norris & oscar piastri x letters from medea by salma deera

(x x x x x)

[foldingfittedsheets]

My mom has this awful friend, Cynthia. My loathing goes deep enough that I’m not even going to change her name. If she ever finds this she knows what she did.

On multiple occasions my mom asked this horrible irresponsible chicken brained woman to watch after our animals while we were away. I don’t know why once wasn’t enough, because the first failure was so spectacular that anyone in their right mind would know she couldn’t be trusted with any level of responsibility or direction following.

You might be thinking to yourself, FFS, this level of antipathy is surely unwarranted! But you’d be wrong.

To set the scene, we were living in downstairs of our house when I was about fifteen. My mom has always wanted more animals than can reasonably be kept indoors which is how we ended up with three cats. When she wanted to kick them all outside I protested, and so all three cats lived in my bedroom with no access to the rest of the house.

That really wasn’t great, so in an attempt to give them options we made a window cutout with a cat door in it to give them access to the outdoors. Looking back on this as an environmentally conscious adult it’s wretched, cats should be indoor only, but at the time I was desperate to give them some freedom because one bedroom is too small for three cats.

So my parents and I went on a week long trip to visit family out of state. We told Cynthia to come feed and water the cats, and to scoop the litter box. Most importantly, don’t lock the handle of the door, because we only have the key to the deadbolt.

I’m sure you can see where this is going.

Cynthia locked us out. We arrived home after 12 hours on the road, desperate for the comfort of our own beds. We were met with an unyielding door. With a sigh I volunteered, “I can punch in the cat door and climb in the window.”

I slipped behind the bamboo outside my window and pushed in the cutout. A horrible insidious reek wafted out at me. I paused, prickling with foreboding. But I had a job to do, and by god I’d see it through. I hefted myself up into the window and my hand immediately landed in something wet.

Skin crawling, I pulled myself up and surveyed the darkened room as a miserable odor of decay and suffering poured out of the room around me. I could see dark shapes littering the carpet and it didn’t take a genius to guess that the cats had taken up hunting in a big way during my absence.

I pulled my hand out of the pile of vomit it had landed in and dropped into my onetime bedroom turned now into a hellpit of decomposing wretchedness. I turned on the light. I wished I had not turned on the light.

My eyes scanned across the floor, tallying as they went. Two dead birds, a dead baby rabbit, five dead mice, and one dead snake. I paused on my alarm clock, perplexed to see a stain of white on it. I stepped closer and saw a furtive movement.

The tally suddenly contained also: one live bird that had shit in several places, probably in pure terror to find itself trapped in a room littered with decomposing woodland creatures, which honestly, fair. I coaxed it out the window and finished the survey with five discrete piles of vomit.

I unlocked the door and let my parents in. They exclaimed in disgust at the horrible smell. We stood together in my doorway floored by the magnitude of neglect. The unscooped litter box was a subtle footnote in the tangible reek my living space. I disposed of the parade of ecological disaster, cleaned vomit, and scooped the box after a brutally long day on the road. The cats were fine, and happy to see me. They had a huge dish or food and water so Cynthia’s neglect at least hadn’t harmed them.

Then I slept on the couch while my bedroom aired out, the windows flung wide to dispel the uneasy ghosts of the hunted. I spent the whole night cursing Cynthia’s name for this evil she’d visited upon me. When my mom asked her, "Cynthia, didn't you see the dead animals?"

Cynthia responded, "Yes, they smelled so bad, I just ran in and out as fast as I could." I fully don't believe she did any caretaking, and I'm personally of the opinion that she locked herself out on the first day and never came back.

The next day my room had returned to a habitable level of smellscape and I gratefully crawled into my bed that night. I stretched out and froze as my foot brushed something cold and wet?

The final indignity: one last dead snake, inside my very sheets.

Fucking Cynthia.