#haha hi

[dead-cr0w]

GUESS WHO JUST GOT HOME!!!!1!1!1!1!1111!1!1!

[stephaniebrownthespoiler]

Dick and Bruce are just like this mess of unsaid words and deep seated trust and it is so interesting

They both changed and shaped each other yet they seem to think it's all one sided

Bruce knows that Dick changed him for the better but he cannot fathom that he ever had a greatly positive impact of his life

and Dick is so aware of everything Bruce did for him but he'll always believe that Bruce is better than he is and doesn't really need him

They know each other better than anyone else in the whole world yet in so many ways they know nothing about each

They can read each other like an open book except when it's love when it's pride when it's a display of everything they mean to each other

The trust between them is so unspoken it's unquestionable

Dick will always trust Bruce with his entire life and Bruce will always doubt it and then vice versa and they go again and again and again endlessly

They hate each other sometimes sure but there is never a question about whether they love each other

they are always family for better or for worse they'll always be family

[fizzywashere87]

hehehe 🥰

@fluffyr0cky

i see you on my blog 😁🥰

[lepiota-cybe-yippee]

Firt post on Tumblr! This is my character Adeline! A runaway royal with not just daddy issues- but mommy issues too sadly. The worst two-in-one package.

[stillgrows]

@killmeorfuckoff

These weren't the same tendrils Oliver had begrudgingly become used to over the years, steadily becoming increasingly accustomed to them to the extent that he was able to ignore them as part of the usual scenery of his life nowadays—or so he told himself, every single day. These were different. They weren't tendrils, even. It was more like... thick smoke? Fog? Something condensed and almost gesturing, drawing him from the street and into the cemetery.

Cemeteries were usually a safe space, relatively speaking. Everyone in them was already Dead, so what was there for him to see? Save for the occasional worker, at any rate, and even then it wasn't a particularly dangerous occupation and those who worked in cemeteries were seldom surrounded by those telltale tendrils of Death.

So this was strange. Of course he followed, wariness in his steps. He wasn't used to discovering something new about his connection to Death.

When he saw the body, apparently breathing but unconscious atop a new grave, that was the source of the foggy curls, he froze. Ah. This wasn't what he had anticipated, if anything. That was one way of communicating a point. His dark eyes drifted briefly to the new tombstone before moving back to the body, then he approached cautiously, gingerly, and knelt down by the man, heedless of the dirt on his trousers. Oliver stared at him for a moment, and he appeared to be doing nothing more than sleeping.

Oliver knew better, of course, no matter how peaceful it may have appeared. “Welcome to this world, Tim,” he said quietly, and it was delivered with all the expected somberness and weight of a eulogy. “At least you won't be going it alone.”

-----

When Tim finally stirred, he was in Oliver's flat. Getting him there had been no small feat, but he'd managed. Fortunately he'd had the time to recover from the exertion, and was now sitting in an arm chair with a room-temperature cup of tea on the side table beside him. That fog had practically filled the apartment initially with no room to escape as it searched for someone it didn't seem to realize was already there. The window was open now, allowing it to drift out into the oblivious world below.

“Good—” And as soon as he started to speak he knew nothing he could say was going to land the way he wanted, let alone well. He nearly winced. “Good evening,” he greeted, somewhat awkwardly, straightening his posture. “Ah, how're you feeling?”

There really was no salvaging this. He should have planned even a little. “I'm Oliver Banks,” he said quickly, figuring an introduction couldn't hurt. “I-I was called to you. In the cemetery.” Not quite the truth, but he could give more details later. “Thought waking up here would be a little nicer.” The here in question was a cozy flat, the place decorated with antiques, dried flowers, handcrafted goods, and crystals that spoke of someone who leaned a bit too hard into the new age movement, at least at one point in time.

[soultiio]

[facelessthefreak]

Facelessthefreak

(Introduction post)

Helo i am faceless, i am a person that likes:

to draw, undertale, deltarune, pokemon, animal crossing, slime rancher, super animal royale, inanimate insanity, bfdi, spooky month+ more!

you can call me

Faceless

Facey

weird fucking creature

(if you are here for my drawings, look at my tag #art, if you're here for silly doodles look at my tag #silly art)

Current hyperfixiation: SPOOKY MONTH

I go by any pronouns!! (preferably masc terms tho)

^ made by my buddy @/catsockpuppet :3

About the asks: You can ask me anything OR EVEN BETTER you can send me drawing requests!!!!!

(im always open for asks/art requests!)

bunch of lore about my main oc: https://www.tumblr.com/robomiauthedog/721695603018579968?source=share

(also feel free to message me or ask me stuff about my ocs,, please do it im so normal about them)

i am also part of the askblog @incrediblemagicfamily (please ask stuff)

i am ALSO ALSO the dude that made @dailymettatonbecausewhynot (i gave up :p)

strawpage!

silly userboxes i collect

[konu-d]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fate/Grand Order Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Oberon | Pretender, Yan Qing | Assassin, Original Master(s) (Fate), Kazue, Count of Monte Cristo | Avenger - mentioned Additional Tags: post-ordeal call 2, pre-april fools, Depression, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, somewhat of a character study, love is stored in the hair, no beta we die like dr. romani, references to the stages of decomposition, surprise haircut Series: Part 6 of a simple reunion Summary:

[Set after Ordeal Call 2, with only mild spoilers (mentions of the new Avenger and vague references to the general events that take place]

He's been rotting away for a while now. Did you know? Butterflies love corpses.

[faggotfungus]

At least all the followers I've gotten so far from throwing my kinky spaghetti at the wall have been cool.

[quietsounds]

hi i would like to be a whore again

[biasfactor]

—— the light of life is lit in the black night. / independent & private god eater multimuse. by rain.

[badnikbreaker]

@fortruechaos​​ liked!     /     shadow & nightmare!

It’s a dream / she knows that, like swallowing ink, their dreams taste different — for one who doesn’t exist, neither does the world; day doesn’t mean much, or nighttime.  But dreams, she can taste, and this feels ——

It’s not their dream; only things that exist can dream.  Shadow the Hedgehog.  It’s not sure why it knows the name of dreamer — not sure why it’s familiar, somehow, the way a blade would be familiar after it had been pulled from your gut.  The dreamer’s dreaming, or will be, and in the dream, a — girl?

No, not quite.  A girl, but only from the corner of your eye, glowing, golden eyes eyes, dark fur, legs and arms that end in smoke and fog and static - glitching.  Even in dreams, something about the creature’s existence breaks something, reality fracturing like glass around her; it’s easiest in dreams, where reality is already so tenuous.  Drawn to this person / memory / blade.  There’s not much else but being - drawn, but this is ——

“Shadow,” the creature says, disappearing and then reappearing behind him, seeming less intent to frighten and more like they’re studying the other.  “Don’t be afraid — I’m not a bad dream.”  Or, at least, they don’t want to be.

[peanutseagle]

Yeah. so. episode three

[wolfythewitch]

Season 1 and 4 sketches :D

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[yallstar]

pulling sqq into the pool seemed like good revenge at the time. (regrets were had.)