#he’d do it me thinks

[chronicspliffeater]

i think we should start making jerma985 dress up as peter white

[crowiin]

welcome to the world

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[magic-worms]

so like i did not expect at all for my tf2 baboon post to get so popular or to see a ton of new followers from it. but that’s what happened. i can’t believe you guys like isa so much

you like her?? my little baby monkey?? my seven year old sweet little baby typing monkey??? well you’re in luck because i like her too and i haven’t been able to stop drawing her. here’s some family doodles

+ a couple scoutlings ^_^

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[morganbritton132]

Adding onto Steve's crime spree from this (and this and this)

Eddie has determined that he's not asking the right questions in life.

Is he questioning the man? Yes. Every day.

Is he asking Wayne for help when his van shits the bed on Thursday? No. When his van is still unusable come Saturday, did he ask his friends if he could catch a ride to band practice? No.

Did he ask if he could get a ride home? Also no.

It's raining and Eddie regrets his life choices so hard, he doesn't notice the Porsche 928 until it blows through the crosswalk he was about to step onto. He's hit with a tidal wave of frigid early November street water because, of course, he is.

"Fuck's sake," Eddie swore, pushing his wet hair out of his face. In his perphery, the Porche slams on its breaks and rolls back into the crosswalk beside him, but he barely notices. Talking to the driver, the world, or god, Eddie does not know when he rants, "Thanks! Thanks for that, I really need pnumonia. Thanks for bestowing-"

"Sorry, man," Steve says, an apologetic wince sticking out of the open window of the Porche. "Wanna ride? I can take you where you're going."

Eddie looks at the car, then at Steve, and then back at the car and signs, "...Fine, but only because this car is beautiful and not to expunge your guilt."

"Dude, I don't think a sponge is going to help."

Eddie rolls his eyes but sticks his guitar in the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. He has to physically stop himself from touching everything. He's never even seen a Porche before, wow.

Steve's in the driver's seat looking like he's dying for Eddie to ask about the car so he can talk about it. Honestly, Eddie wants to ask about the car. He probably should have asked about the car but instead, he shakes the water out of his hair like a dog as payback.

"C'mon, man," Steve complains, wiping the water off his face. "Watch the leather."

Eddie gives him directions and then bites the bullet. He asks the wrong question, "You trade in the Beamer?"

"No way. That's my baby," He says. "I'm just borrowing this lady."

The conversation is actually nice. None of Eddie's friends know anything about cars but Steve seems to know a lot. He can almost forgive the guy for being a jock and the psychological warfare he's bestowed onto Eddie's brain the past week and a half, but then-

“It sounds like - shit," Eddie says, echoing the same sentiment as Steve at the sight of flashing red and blue lights in the rear view. A question he should've been asking all along occurs to him, "Did you steal this car?"

Steve gives him an annoyed look and then rolls down his window, smiling that All-American smile, "Heya, Hop. Didn't think you were working today."

"This car was reported stolen."

Eddie swears, sinking into the leather with the hopes that it eats him. Steve doesn't even hesitate, "Let me guess, Mrs. Woolledge? Crazy she knows what all her neighbors are doing but not that her kid's on dope."

Hopper doesn't say anything and the silence is loud so Steve adds, "It's not stolen. It's my dad's car. I have permission."

"From your dad?" Hopper asks, getting an annoyed nod from Steve. "Same dad that's out of town?"

"Well, Hop. There's this thing called a phone."

"You get that MRI...right? Throw the keys out the window," Hopper says. Eddie's mentally preparing on how he's going to explain this to Wayne when he calls from jail. Steve protests. Hopper demands, "Throw. The keys. Out. The. Window. Now."

Steve seems to realize that he's pushing his luck because he does just that. He even gets out of the car when Hopper tells him to. Hopper tells him to get in his truck and Steve straight up lies, "Hop, I'm taking my friend home. We're working on a school project together. At his house.”

Eddie curses Steve's entire bloodline from start to finish when Hopper lookings directly at him still in the car, "That true?"

Say no. Say you don't know him. Say you know nothing. Say anything but, "Yes."

"What subject?'

"History," Steve says at the same time Eddie says 'Art' and then rolls his eyes, "Art history, yeah?"

Hopper nods like he thinks they're full of shit and then tells them both to get in his truck.

Steve protests but more about leaving the car on the street than anything else while Eddie briefly thinks about the psychic his mom used to know. He wonders if she could curse someone for real. Maybe he can call her from jail.

He's fully ready to see the police station that he fails to realize where Hopper's going until they’re in Forest Hills. He turns and looks at both of them and says, "I'd like to know what grade you get on this project."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Steve says with a salute, pulling Eddie out of the car. Once they're inside, Steve peaks out the blinds like, "Yeah, he'll sit there for a while. He thinks I'm lying. Wanna smoke?"

Eddie is baffled, "No."

"Okay," Steve shrugs and flops down on the couch. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and adds, "Spare key. We just gotta wait until he's gone and can circle back for your guitar."

The only thing Eddie can think is, “what the fuck” and he doesn’t even know which part he’s talking about.

[the-meme-monarch]

category 7 looey moment

the doodle page was drawn before all their conversations were found, but their trinket Had been, (and my sibling got the scraps convo before it was put on the wiki) so i was anticipating them being more friendly w razzle & dazzle(complimenting trinkets) and goob(both having dual colors) than they turned out to be <:] but he IS very friendly with poppy and that makes me happy. also shrimpo death threats

none of this is ship art 👍💥💥

[kiivg]

.A Royal Scandal.

[wyervan]

Quick question, what color are Slasher Moon’s eyes? O.O

@stainedglassstainedmyass made a slight change ✨

[meteortrails]

currently entranced by the mental image of santos, in a moment of drunken uncharacteristic honesty, unloading about her insane dyke drama to Whitaker (was gonna try and make himself some mac and cheese and is now a little scared to try and leave the kitchen). he is, of course, helplessly confused - you like women?? you hooked up with a senior resident???? is that even allowed - (GOD huckleberry yes you’re allowed to sleep with a senior resident if you’re not a total stick in the mud. keep UP already jeez). once the seal has been broken there’s no going back tho. he’s the only one completely in the know and he keeps asking santos extremely poorly timed questions, so now an established part of their roomie life is Whitaker getting WAYYY too much detail on exactly how stupid the gay women at this hospital can be and santos mourning the time when she had the dignity to live through this kind of drama in silence.

[stars-obsession-pit]

Hello! Can do a chapter fic off this fic prompt Danny phantom x dc: https://www.tumblr.com/corkinavoid/767516270934556672/dpxdc-legal-power?source=share

This isn’t a one-to-one recreation of that dialogue but it’s based on that as a framework/premise

Batman dropped down into the room behind a pair of figures—a teenage boy and a slumped adult—letting his landing create an audible thump to alert them of his presence.

If the teen noticed, he didn’t react. Even as Bruce approached, he continued to stare impassively at the wheezing figure on the ground, an old wooden bat with flaking green paint on its side loosely held in his right hand. Bruce had already suspected who the figure would be since he arrived, but seeing the Joker so broken was still bizarre. No laughing, no schemes. He didn’t even seem to be attempting to escape his binds, just… lying there, almost as if pinned in place.

Bruce paused a step behind the teen. “I don’t know what the Joker did to you, but this isn’t the right way to go about this.”

The teen scoffed, and Bruce felt a painful lurch in his chest as he was reminded oh so strongly of his son Jason. “And what, let him go kill more people?”

“I know he deserves to face justice, but not like this. Everyone deserves a right to fair trial. No one person should be judge, jury, and executioner.”

The teen turned to look at him with glowing green eyes, and Batman felt himself freeze. He had faced gods before, yet even using that as a comparison felt like an understatement. The boy’s eyes belonged to someone far older than his teenage form implied, and they radiated power. Inevitability.

When the teen—no, the entity—spoke again, his words carried an unearthly echo. “Perhaps, but I’m not acting for just myself.” He paused, glanced down at the Joker, then asked almost conversationally, “Do you know how many people he’s killed?”

Another pause, but before Bruce could even try to answer, the entity continued, “Eight hundred and fifty-six. He’s ended the lives of eight hundred and fifty-six human souls. I can tell you about every single one, if you want. About who they were, what their dreams were before he killed them. About the pain they felt at his hands.”

He punctuated the word ‘pain’ by raising up the wooden bat in his hands and ramming its end down onto the Joker’s arm. He let out a wheeze, muffled by the gag in his mouth.

“I have a duty to my people. I am the King of the In-Between and of all the souls that pass through it—even ones whose stays were as brief as his. I am the rightful arbiter of his fate. And with that power, I sentence him to death.”

He raised the bat again, adjusting his grip so he’d hit with the side rather than the end this time, then paused and let out a chuckle. “Of course, just because it’s based on some justice doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun with it too.” He swung the bat down, slamming it into the Joker’s side, then hooked it under the clown’s torso and flicked him up through the air to slam into the wall. “We all really hate this guy.”

With the entity’s attention fully turned away from him as he sauntered towards the Joker’s slumped figure, Bruce could finally unfreeze himself.

Even if the Ghost King did have the right to pass judgement on Joker, Bruce still couldn’t let torture go on like this. He wouldn’t win a direct fight, but he could hopefully at least grab the Joker and bring him over to the police. Carefully, he reached for some of the smoke bombs and batarangs on his belt and readied his grapple. He’d have to do this very, very fast.

But before he could move, another figure entered the scene. Red Hood, emerging from the shadows on the far side of the room, an unexpected bit of a pep to his step.

“Nice to see someone else who gets that that bastard needs to die. But if I may make a suggestion, how ‘bout you use a crowbar instead of that old bat? It’d be a bit more… fitting.”

[im-still-watching-anime]

trucy: hang on polly you have a hair on you—oh, it’s long and…blonde. again.

apollo, internally: oh my god they’re all going to think i’m STRAIGHT and that i’m sleeping with a WOMAN

trucy, athena, and wright all thinking: oh that’s for sure klavier’s :/

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

omg opinions on mr reca,

he’s literally >:3, mr. reca is full of silly whimsy and i need to study him under a microscope. he’s such a pathetic unhinged freak and i LOVE that for him <33

but he don’t get pussy, that silly little man gets the biggest strap-on up his ass <33 you could get mr. reca to cum in his pants from just steeping on him a couple of times, and now he’s hooked. he’d hump your foot like the depraved dog he is and drool n pant when you press down even harder. he REEKS of obsessive masochist vibes, dude would constantly follow you around like a lost puppy and refuse to leave you alone.

might as well get yourself your very own personal dog <33

[paper-possum-party-pal]

More doodles!

First we have tiny Stanley and Narrator because small :)

I really enjoy the hc that after Stanley leaves the parable he goes and gets a job that requires manual labor or as a florist. I feel like he would want to detach himself from office work as much as possible, even if there’s som layer of attachment due to familiarity. I really love this small doodle because I managed to successfully use more interesting lighting which is something I’m trying to improve.

References for all the drawings

[spindashes]

While I love people’s own adaptations of what Agent Stone would look like as a character from the games, I feel some of them miss the mark whenever they have him looking too devious or sinister, or generally just as eccentric as Eggman.

Part of his appeal in his original appearance (imo) is the contrast of his completely professional demeanor to Robotnik’s eccentricity and over-the-top antics. It’s what makes it so good, mad scientist wanting to detonate a speedy blue rodent with missiles and lasers & his secretary that makes him coffee and always maintains his composure & professionalism despite the fact that his boss is crazy.

And yet he is utterly enthralled by Robotnik’s eccentricity, and is utterly loyal to a fault because of it. He’s an utter sycophant.

Like, I don’t think he would be maniacally laughing alongside Eggman. Because that supposes them as equals– they’re not, and he likes it that way. I think he’d be organizing Badnik patrols while Eggman focuses on larger schemes. Polishing up Metal Sonic’s paint job before sending him out on the doctor’s orders. Adjusting the volume levels while Eggman delivers his speeches to world leaders. And, of course, making him a a latte while he razes the land with a fleet of battleships and machines.

[goldensunset]

drayton is even funnier as a character now that i’m familiar with gen 5. you’re telling me this dude is from opelucid city where his grandfather is the mayor, and they got their entire city frozen solid by a giant ice beam *as a warning shot* to grandpa drayden, jeopardizing if not ending countless lives… and drayton is stationed in the polar biome at blueberry academy. the frozen area of the terarium (that quotes opelucid city’s music!). and he’s like ‘haha yeah i know it’s ironic for a dragon-type trainer to like the cold’ i mean yeah man but more specifically it’s ironic for YOU