#go hide

[michelleleewise]

you fucking fucktard ai literally steals real artists works who have worked years on perfecting it and fuckers like you. I'm not surprised that you are a Loki stan . You guys are a different breed of weirdos

Oooo the language on this one.....

Do you see me verbally assaulting people?.....No. Do you see me attacking people for no reason?...No Do you see me purposely jumping into others asks and going out of my way to make people feel bad or put them down for what they enjoy?.....oh, no?.....

If Loki stans are weirdo's then by all means sign me up!! Because I have found nothing but love, support and friendship in this Fandom, and will continue to forge new ones.

And as I've said, unless you can come off anon and have an adult discussion, which sounds like that may be hard for you, then kindly remove yourself and your assanine comments from my blog. I've done my research.....have you? I've asked questions....have you? .....I'm assuming not.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have more pics to make. Thanks for coming, you better head back to your basement before someone sees you. And.....

Have the day yoi deserve 😁

[asteroidtroglodyte]

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

[rookanisstuff]

the victory ball

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

One of the more frustrating things about the particular kind of anti-intellectualism directed at the humanities here and on places like tiktok is that pointing it out makes you seem like a killjoy.

No, I actually didn't find your "historians will say they were just friends" joke funny. No I don't think speculating that old photos are in black and white to make them seem older is harmless. But I seem uptight and "not fun" when I say these things.

[catcze]

Imagine being Boothill’s sweetheart before everything went up in flames… he didn’t think you survived, but you did somehow, and you managed to get away from the terror and the flames. And he meets you again, in some far corner of the galaxy.

He’s a galaxy ranger now, with a body made of metal and a core where his heart should be. But he still feels something click when he looks at you, even from the corner of his eye. He doesn't believe what he's seeing at first— he thinks that it must be some bug in his system. Some trick of the light. But despite his doubts he feels his feet move from under him, walking first, then running, until he's pushing other people out of the way and damn near sprinting to get to you before you disappear.

And oh, when he manages to reach you— manages to stop you with a hand on your shoulder, he almost can't believe his eyes. He takes his hat off and presses it to his chest, the same way he had done when he asked for your hand a lifetime ago.

If he could cry, he thinks, he’d be a blubbering mess. 

Because it is you. Because he'd recognize the curve of your cupid's bow and the shine in your eyes even from across a cosmos. Because you're here, against all odds and despite every nightmare he's had. You're here, and you're just as lovely as the day he lost you.

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[millionsghosts]

desperately trying to convince my parents who hated the half time show that actually Kendrick calling Drake a pedophile on live TV for millions of people is the funniest thing to happen ever and the highlight of my day

[blondeaxolotl]

Hell yeah, Let's go genderfluid FISH

Originally was going to be a simple colored sketch but I went overboard lmfao, bonus comic:

Lesson learnt, if you're having people try on dresses you made, don't have the judges be the said people's partners because they will die on the spot.

Also bonus doodle of my friend asking if Azul would like a bouquet (asking for a friend):

[silver-dragonborn]

Cole looking so horrified and heartbroken by what he just witnessed Aemond nearly do will never stop making me laugh. Sir, you practically raised those boys and taught them viciousness, cruelty, and dishonorable tactics in your quest to get back at Rhaenyra. You have continuously inserted yourself in the private affairs of the royal family and pitted your charges against their nephews without stopping to think about the consequences. You prepared them to wage war against their blood, spread misery, sow deceit, and commit kinslaying.

Don't look so surprised now that the fruits of your labor are finally yielding the shit you fucking planted all because a teenage girl wouldn't run away to be poor with you, you fucking twat.

[akanemnon]

So THAT'S how they did it! I'm sure that will have no major implications at AAAAALLLLLL...

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[livsmessydoodles]

still a menace

[exhausted-undead]

"It was affection that held us together."

zoom in for better detail (tumblr likes to butcher my quality lmao)

[tagerrkix]

Eden was their ✨disney princess era✨

[toktopus-art]

happy halloween 👻 it's haunted house time again

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Crack prompt: Danny has declared war on the curses in Gotham. He is armed with a water balloon gun, but the balloons are full of medical-grade ectoplasm. He targets any location, ghost, or liminal being tainted by curses and/or corrupted ecto - absolutely drenching them before yeeting off again.

This includes the Bats. Danny is smart about it, though. He lived in Gotham for several months before acting, so he could get the lay of the land. He also waits for patrol to be finished before hitting the Bats - he doesn't want to interrupt their Quest to Better Gotham (or be labeled an invader to their haunt).

One night, Danny happens upon Batman patrolling alone and waits for him to finish cleaning up a crime scene before hitting they guy with a half-clip of balloons. Batman gives chase, like he always does, and Danny runs, like he always does. He knows by now that, for whatever reason, Crime Alley is off limits to Batman. The whole alley just gives off "no (other) bats allowed" vibes.

Red hood is just more territorial. Whatever.

At any rate, Danny is enjoying the chase, using just enough ghost powers to stay ahead of batman, almost-but-not-quite taunting him. Crime Alley isn't too far, so instead of turning invisible around a corner like he usually does, he makes his way to the Alley to see if the no-trasspassing rule is enough to stop Batman mid-chase. He leaps across rooftops and weaves through fire escapes, ecto-balloon-gun bouncing by its strap against his back, until finally he's at the border, slightly tapping into flight to make the jump across a slightly wider road into the alley proper.

He turns around immediately, spotting Batman skulking on the rooftop on the other side of the road, stopping the chase and suit half-covered in healing ectoplasm.

"Sanctuary!" Danny yells, pumping his fists in the air from getting caught up in the exciting rush of adrenaline, "I claim sanctuary!"

"Who the fuck is claiming sanctuary in my territory?" Red Hood booms from almost directly behind Danny. He would have yeeted out of his own skin from surprise if he hadn't spent years honing his ghost-fighting instincts. As it was, Danny instead whirled around and emptied the clip of balloons into Hood, purely out of reflex.

Hood stood there, drenched in ecto like his fellow Bat one rooftop over, glaring murder at Danny with glowing eyes. But his haunt betrayed Hood's true emotions.

Surprise, concern, impressed, you-little-brat.

Danny booked it to the fire escape and turned invisible the second he was out of sight.

[magicicephoenix]

*waddles up to moon*

"hey wanna know something crazy?"

*I don't let him answer before I speak.*

"crazy? I was crazy once, they locked me in a room, a rubber room, a rubber room with rats, and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once, they locked me in a room-"

get snatched >:)

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