#every single panel

[maybe-im-dark]

Logan has an adamantium baculum confirmed!!!

[evenlyevi]

Not today, not tomorrow.

[umblrspectrum]

do you ever like wanna make something cool but you dont know how so you just sit around like a moron for 5 hours straight pretending you know how

me neither

on a more serious note i know ad astra as a whole isnt over but i still want to thank daybreaker for their fics. what friends are for was the very first md fic i ever stumbled upon when trying out ao3 for the first time, and prior to joining the server i was checking it near daily for uploads. god knows if i'd be as deep in ao3 as i am now if it werent for this story and convenient timing. Thanks for the story.

[cubbihue]

chimmy changa timmy, why do you hate muffins? am I missing some of the lore?

Timmy doesn't like how they taste. No matter who, how or where they're made, the muffins are all the same to him. It's frustrating because he knows they shouldn't be.

And each time he walks away feeling immense disappointment. Like something should've happened.

He does his best to avoid eating them, but, Timmy found that people react weirdly when you say you don't like muffins. So he eats them anyways. He's unfortunately surrounded by muffin-nuts.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[toskarin]

I understand why this happened. but I don't think it should have.

[gotham-snark]

[varpusvaras]

Just thinking about how others reacted to Jason's death...all of the victim blaming, making him a warning, an example of what not to do, telling him he came back wrong, that he was mean and cruel and dangerous even before his death...constantly making fun of his death and making crowbar jokes and all of that...and how, in the newer runs, Jason seems to just. accept it all.

(Thinking of a scenario where Jason and Roy become friends, how Jason starts to very slowly handle his feelings around his death. How the Jason Roy knows is confident, despite everything, and even if he is angry and hurt and takes that anger and hurt out on the world around him, he still so very firmly believes in making a difference. How after some time Jason decides to try and mend things with his family.

And how slowly but surely, the Jason who Roy knew at the beginning starts to disappear.

How Jason starts to disappear.

How Jason starts believing that he should disappear.

How Jason starts to want to disappear.

And Roy starts to get angry.)

[softsadrainy]

uh, where am i going?

(Young Justice 1998 #09) panel redraw :3

og panel, no text, and full page for your viewing pleasure :D

[tryagainstarlight]

Enter The Figher

Let the asks/guiding finally commence, oh and with the summoning thing, there is limits. Behave or else it would be revoked from you. That is all :]

[PREV] || [NEXT]

[aeon-uriel]

my captain, my captain, my captain.

[skippingthroughfields]

one thing that's missing from these convos about amc not submitting assad zaman for a golden globes nom that makes it 10x more malicious on amc's part is that a nomination isn't just like oh... ~simple appreciation for an actor's performance. even if there's no win, it results in a profile boost for these actors & them being able to command a higher salary when it comes to future projects. it's something that gets notice on their CV. these studios and networks love being able to market their shit with things like "starring golden globe nominee john doe" or "emmy winner jane doe." the emmys are more prestigious than the golden globes which are more prestigious than the critics choice awards (the one they submitted him for with two other actors lol). actors get nominated and have the opportunity to get attention from social media posts, article mentions, attending the red carpet, having their name announced and a little clip of their acting shown. that's not nothing! attention from possible new fans, publications, execs, peers, producers, directors, fashion houses & other industries which could lead to $$$ and sponsorships. I won't make any presumptions about the cast's finances but I do know amc is probably not paying them their worth, least of all the bangladeshi muslim who barely had any major roles in tv/film prior to the show.

there are fees and costs associated with submitting for awards consideration and FYC ads. the network basically took a look at assad's brown skin and name and said they don't think he's worth the money over the white actor who had less screentime and narrative importance (to the season ig) which is absolutely crazy lmao. it shouldn't be controversial to say that and you can't not discuss this without bringing up sam's name. this has nothing to do with whether he "deserved" to be submitted (and even if I said he doesn't deserve it over assad who's gonna beat my ass?). this white man isn't being persecuted by conversations about blatant racism. but I'd expect nothing less from this fanbase x.

[heleentje]

For some unfathomable reason, Link liked this champion. Enough to be hurt by his actions and carry that pain with him for days on end. “What would you have me do? If I could bring back the dead, I would do so in a heartbeat. There is no part of me that does not mourn what happened—” “You killed my best friend!” Revali screeches. Zelda’s breath catches in her throat. How dare he— How dare he insinuate that she— “He’s my best friend too!” she screams. She is no longer Princess Zelda, or the Incarnation of the Goddess, but just Zelda, and one of the few people who knew her is dead in front of her, and now this champion dare accuse her of having killed him? “Do you think I wanted this? It was never like this, Ganon never acted like this! This wasn’t the plan!”

Moonlight (every single night) chapter 11

One of my favorite scenes I wrote for Moonlight, commissioned from the amazingly talented @blueskittlesart! This came out phenomenally and I'm so happy with it!!!

[pico-farad]

I wanted to share my favorite yugioh art which makes me insane

3 part wordless soulshipping comic by 拖狗 (links below)

Read the whole thing on their pixiv:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[extravagav]

Yk I never did truly recover from the sick fic chapter

[nimbusclan]

Moon 1

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

As the two cats climb the slope away from everything they’ve ever known, Moonpaw sends a fervent prayer to StarClan as thanks for sparing her brother.

She watches the strong shape of his shoulders as they move under his pelt, carrying him up the mountain, the swish of his tail as it guides her forward, and knows that without him, she’d have lain down in that cave and let the darkness have her. Without her clan – without her brother – she’s nothing.

With only the moonlight and twinkling Silverpelt to guide them forward, the mountain seems ominous and threatening in the dark. Outcroppings of rock throw insidious shadows over them, spires of stone stab high into the sky and curve like the talons of an eagle. Fogpaw lowers his nose to a scraggly shrub that clings stubbornly to the unforgiving landscape and adjusts his course for the border of their territory. Moonpaw slinks after him, head low and ears flattened nervously against her skull.

She scents it before she sees it, the border with their neighboring clan strong with the scents of foreign cats. “We’re here,” Fogpaw murmurs, brushing a comforting tail over Moonpaw’s back before stepping forward, claw-tips straddling the edge of the scent-marks denoting the line between territories as he lifts his head and caterwauls into the night.

After the sound of his announcement fades across the mountainside, he turns to look back at Moonpaw, his cobalt eyes round and unsure. The line of his body is bold, his tail and head held high, but Moonpaw has grown beside him since their nursery days. She knows that he’s nervous, even if he’s not showing it outright. His eyes shine with apprehension.

Just then, a clatter of pebbles alerts the pair of them to movement on the other side of the border. Moonpaw presses herself to Fogpaw’s flank, body tense, as the shadows melt away to reveal three neighboring patrol cats, alerted by Fogpaw’s yowl.

“What is your business at our border so late at night?” The largest of the cats spits, unkindly, flanked by the other two of his clan members. His eyes flit between the two siblings, sizing them up with an unimpressed frown.

“Our home has been destroyed, and our clan with it,” Fogpaw explains. Moonpaw feels unsteady under the wary gaze of the other cats and wants to sink her claws into the rock beneath her pads for a sense of balance, but refrains, not wanting the action to be interpreted as a threat. “We ask that you welcome us into your clan. We’re only apprentices.”

The large cat bursts into laughter, his voice rough and mocking. The two cats beside him snicker, the three of them exchanging amused glances.

“As if we’re going to accept you scrawny rejects into our clan,” the large cat continues to laugh, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as he grins. “You’re no more than rogues now, if what you say is true. We don’t take in rogues.”

“You better scram, before we make you,” one of the other cats says. His muscles are thick, bulging under his pelt, and Moonpaw hasn’t had nearly enough battle training in the scant few moons she’s been an apprentice to feel ready for a confrontration. Even if she felt as though she could take on this single cat should she need to, they’re outnumbered. “We don’t take kindly to rogues trespassing on our territory.”

Fogpaw scoffs, affronted, and Moonpaw’s fur spikes along her back, a lightning bolt of fear racing down her spine. “We’re not on your territory,” Fogpaw spits, gesturing between each of their groups. “We’re still on our side of the border.”

“You don’t have a clan anymore,” the third cat jeers. “What border?”

Fogpaw bristles, tail lashing furiously, and the other cats get to their paws like they’re ready to make true on their threat to run them off. “Fogpaw,” Moonpaw murmurs, brushing her tail along his side. “Let’s not do this. We should leave.”

Fogpaw spares the other cats one last, angered look, and then turns tail and stalks away, calling for Moonpaw to follow. The mean laughter of the clan cats echoes behind them as they turn the corner and head down a slope that hugs the mountainside, loose pebbles clattering away under their paws as they make their way down.

Rogues. Moonpaw shivers, hastening her step to keep up with Fogpaw’s furious pace. “What are we going to do now, Fogpaw?” Moonpaw asks, anxious. “We don’t have a clan anymore.”

“We are the clan,” Fogpaw reminds her. “We are NimbusClan. And what we’re going to do right now is hunt, because I’m starving and we need to keep our strength up.”

What about the Warrior Code? Moonpaw thinks to herself, padding after Fogpaw as the terrain levels out and they find themselves in a sparsely wooded clearing she’d only passed through a couple times when out with her mentor. Will StarClan punish them if they eat outside of the camp? 

They’re the only two cats left, so StarClan surely will understand their need. There are no other cats to bring fresh-kill back to. Moonpaw settles into a crouch at the base of a tree, tucked between the roots as Fogpaw slinks behind a bush and scents the air for prey. Exhausted, hungry, and grieving, Moonpaw doesn’t have the energy to hunt right now, so she watches her brother flick the tip of his tail as he stalks across the ground, the light of the moon that filters through the sparse trees flickering against his dappled pelt.

Fogpaw works hard to catch them dinner, chasing a squirrel halfway up a tree and just managing to sink his teeth into its tail. It shrieks an alarm call into the quiet of the night, but Fogpaw pulls it from the tree with a hard tug and lands nimbly on the ground, giving it a swift bite to the neck to silence its cries. He drags the fresh-kill over to where Moonpaw crouches and noses it towards her.

When she doesn’t eat immediately, eyeing him with worry, he shrugs and tucks his paws under himself. “You eat first. Everything that’s happened this evening has given me a stomachache.”

Moonpaw drapes her tail sympathetically over her brother and tears the squirrel into equal portions for them, pushing Fogpaw’s share towards him. “You said it yourself, we have to keep our strength up. Eat at least a little.”

He flashes her a small, quick smile and digs in, the two cats pressed side by side as they eat. Disposing of the remains of their meal so as not to attract any scavengers, Moonpaw spots a hollowed out log for them to spend the rest of the night in that shelters them from the mountain winds. It’s nothing at all like her nest back home, the bark hard and cold beneath her pelt, but it’s safe for now and at the very least, she has the comfort of her brother’s warm body pressed up against hers to help lull her to sleep.

[Previous] [Start] [Next]

[mochasucculent]

Becoming a certified Dandadan enjoyer

+ dumb comic under the cut