#i guessss

[zivazivc]

I like to imagine that Branch joined/started Kismet in between movies one and two because he decided he wanted to be normal again and to him that means being in a boy band (insane but funny)

that actually is really funny! (and insane!) also from what i've seen from the cartoon, branch does actually feel like he has to go out of his way to fit in and be a "real troll" so this is totally in character for him.

[arthurroseart]

Finished my "Aengus the Prize Winning Hog" fan animation!!! Song by The Toxhards!!!

My Patreon

[anonymoosen]

howdy

Reference:

JDJEJDJEJD A LOT OF YALL SAID MY SHIRT GHOST AU REMINDED YOU OF THIS ANIMATED FILM, SO OF COURSE I HAD TO DRAW IT!! :3

[wooyoungisbaby]

Hwa has a few things to say :v

[more ateez memes]

[hdra77]

for my beloved @fishgrinder

HAPPY 4TH YEAR ANNIVERSARY!! <333

this took fuckin forever bruh i should've colored it was planning to but my wrist was crying everytime i work on this also i kinda like the sketchy style of it LMAO i love you sweetheart <3 now my hand can finally rest /silly i wanted to add more but my wrist just couldn't take it sobs

[brutalitybunny]

I NEED TO GET ON THE KUNISHIBA GRINDSET

[tinyshinysylveon]

AAAAA SHINSOOOOO 😭✨🎉

[5hrignold]

lsp was the og of being obsessed with fionna and cake and harassing simon about it

[sunfishingart]

only recently getting into dc comics and i like babs a lot :]

trying to figure out how to draw these guys and what features i would give them since barbara tends to change a lot depending on story and era, and then every robin ever is generally just drawn as bruce but small (confusing to me; awful with my face blindness)

[waruland]

I need to stop getting obsessed with this show like every 2 years

Also no I refuse to save the actual image file instead of screenshoting it it looks cooler I think

[overb]

“Guardian Angel (in some sick, twisted sense)”

Tim had seen his fair share of trauma, sure. He’d watched the Flying Graysons fall, watched as Dick Grayson lost his parents. As he lost his entire family.

Sometimes, he wondered what that would feel like. If Tim’s parents died, would Tim scream and cry like Dick Grayson had? If it had been murder, would Tim Drake become some kind of vengeful Gotham vigilante?

It made him feel sick to his stomach, but he was pretty convinced he wouldn’t care. Sure, there’d be a few tears. Tim would miss them, miss the way his mum used to tie his tie before they abandoned him at whatever social advent they’d dragged him to. He’d miss the way his dad used to set him on his knee, before he saw Tim as this annoying pre-teen that relied too much on his parents, and talk him through the relics he was bidding on on his laptop.

Now there wouldn’t be that much to miss. Tim tied his own tie, made his own way to all the social events he was invited to. He absentmindedly scrolled through auction sites, had google alerts on for the key phrases his parents adored, but his dad didn’t bother with him anymore. There were no more identical faces of awe as they found something they could just not pass on!

In a way, he figured, he was lucky. He had none of that attachment that caused Bruce Wanye to be Batman and Dick Grayson to be Robin because – yeah – he’d figured it out. The night he’d matched the flips, flipped through his memory to the night at the circus, he’d thrown up. Mrs. Mac had come to Drake Manor to drop groceries that morning and had been nice enough to call Tim off school, tucking him into bed with a bucket and cool flannel against his forehead. He’d also cried.

It was unfair that such good people had to suffer so much. It was unfair that they came out of one eventful night with the world on their shoulders. He was amazed they were still such good people. Even at the ripe age of nine, Tim would trade anything to be able to go back in time and take their burdens. It wouldn’t bother him– maybe it would be nice to have a family for more than two weeks at a time. Maybe it wouldn’t, but Tim would sure he’d never really understand what he’d lose. He was far too used to being lonely. No one else deserved it.

But there was no way to go back in time, not without the League’s help. In a few years Tim might be able to hack his way in there, considering he was halfway through the Batcomputer, but it would be a while. He’d keep time travel as a back-up plan.

Plan A was to make sure that Gotham’s vigilantes wouldn’t be hurt. He’d try his best to protect them, to warn them and keep them away from the tragedies they didn’t deserve to be hurt by. And Tim would still keep some sense of surveillance, sure, but if it was an unavoidable accident the Bats wouldn’t be getting involved. Tim could keep it to himself, a twisted secret for the best. He didn’t have anyone to tell anyway.

[solsearchingnights]

@made-nondescript inspired me. So have an incomplete diagram of Minecraft characters I can and would (and would not) get in physical fights with.*

I spent....way too long and way too much brain power on this.

*the likelihood of my victory in this bare-knuckle brawl was not factored in

[airborneice]

some freyjas

(freyja's design as usual inspired by hilda-fanblog's!)

[saturday-byte]

Photo dump of my shithead cunt of a cat whom I hate (ft. My crusty dog) bc I was going to draw some of these but got lazy

⬆️ objectively funniest picture of him

[birgittesilverbae]

It was just one night.

Beatrice keeps telling herself this as she tidies the kitchen the morning after the night before, as she makes sure to wash and dry and put away the paired mugs before Libby has a chance to stir and notice them. She's gotten in the habit of counting everything lately, fingers and toes and the number of cracks in the pavement she hops across on their way to the playground at the park down the block. If Beatrice has to watch Libby point up at the mugs sitting by the sink and count to two with that toothy grin of hers - more Shannon in it than than either her or Lilith - she's terrified she might shatter.

So instead she dunks her hands in water the wrong side of hot and winces at the temperature, winces at the texture of soap-slick ceramic, winces at the way the weave of the dish towel catches in the rough edges of the numerals as she wipes each mug dry.

It was just one night. It can't happen again.

She wants it to so badly it hurts.

[blindfoureyes]

I think they could be nice badges