#i said make it short and then...

[hyunsoolgc]

-ˋˏ ◡  TRICOLOR / @lgcminseo

Among the utterances of 'are you sure about this' and 'what ifs', Hyunsoo found himself complying with Minseo's whim, regardless. Albeit friendly and pleasant, that smile of hers when turned to a pout did not offer him any propensity toward refusing her ideas—sigh inducing as they may be. And so, here they are, arms locked on the way up the stairs to this multi-family seollal celebration. It is not the first one, nor will it be the last. Despite the holiday, many of the parents and even grown children have busied themselves with business deals and other such things. It was only natural for some odd bored households colluding on the days in between.

He is the sole representative of the Lee family. Strange, but not unheard of given his mother's most recent, terribly timed breakdown. ( A relief, frankly. ) But, there are more eyes on him this time than there should have been; particularly those of Minseo's family, and a fleeting, reddened face slinking into some corridor upon seeing their shoulders bumping.

Hyunsoo turns his head, near flinching when the sturdy voice of Minseo's father rings out a bit louder than he would have anticipated. Not so loud. His mind goes numb, only registering the word "newlyweds". He can only manage an awkward laugh and shake of his hand in denial. ( Oh, the guilt he will feel when they call things off; knowing it had been a ruse this entire time. ) Halfway through the conversation, he leans in toward Minseo, teeth grit in a forced smile. "Minseo? I'm getting a bit ... hungry. We should get something to eat, hm?"

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[soupinaboot]

In my opinion, Bruce should be above average height or at least average. But since he surrounds himself with demi-gods, aliens, meta humans, etc, he's just dwarfed next to them. Like maybe about 6'1 or 6'2, but that's NOTHING compared to Diana '7'3 feet tall' Prince. Or Clark '6'9' Kent.

All the tabloids claim he has to be at least 5 feet tall because the only photos they can get of him are when he's next to his giant ass friends.

It is also my personal headcannon that all the robins stay shorter than him, except Jason, who should be at least 4 inches taller.

[keymintt]

got an impulse to animate a little

[carrionhearted]

I showed someone a photo of my room, and their response was “I thought this was a photo of a haunted house attraction at first”

I think. This is a success.

(This was the photo)

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpx Dc AU: Ectoplasm is required for Ghosts to be visible to the human eye- And Danny creates his own ectoplasm.

Danny is visiting Jazz in Gotham and its weird how friendly everyone is. Like, the city gets a really bad rapport, everywhere he goes there is someone trying to strike up a conversation or answer his questions about getting around to the tourist spots. A few people even pointed out restaurants and ways to find off the beaten path gems! Jazz seems to role her eyes at him, but when he brings up her 'roommate' being kind of cute she flat out laughs.

Danny then comes to understand the Jazz doesn't have a roommate and that Ghosts in Gotham don't move far from their haunts- He's just been inadvertently turning these undead folks visible by accident of generating abnormal amounts of ectoplasm.

Which, is comforting in a way, he's never walking this dangerous city alone and really, most of the ghosts have been really friendly! They disappear once he's a few blocks away from them anyway.

---

Tim Drake is having a horrible day.

He'd been given intel that one of Black Mask's guys was going to snitch but that he'd died before given the opportunity to reach out to the GCPD. He tracks down the guy's last know whereabouts and yikes. Its next to the Theater. Tim was often grateful for his childhood obsessions, this time it backfired.

Tim and Bruce get into an argument about trust and respect and, worst of all, mental health. And even though Tim was vehemently against Batman accompanying Red Robin to the alleyway - that's exactly what happens.

They arrive and Bruce is closing up faster than a clam in the contaminated Gotham Bay- Clearly being in the Alley bothers him. No fucking shit. RR gets started on collecting evidence, there are a few extra blood splatters and a single left shoe... When a kid walks into the Alley.

"Uh, sorry to intrude-" The kid looks scared shitless, and runs away. And then, all of a sudden, Batman and Robin aren't alone in the Alley.

Tim can hardly believe his eyes as the dead man appears and quickly blabs Black Mask's bank passwords and what the plan had been- and While he's over joyed to have that closure, he turns around to Batman weeping in the arms of his parents.

The ghosts fade, and the emotions are certainly charged as this was never something Bruce or Tim would have ever dreamed of happening. Ghosts in Gotham. Talking, floating, granting closure.

"RR, Bats, come in." Oracle calls into their ears.

"Reporting in, but, uh, we need a minute."

"A minute? We have a case on 4th and-"

"O, we just saw the ghosts of the Waynes. It's going to be a minute."

"...Lots of Ghost reports lately then. Any chance you saw a kid looking like he could be adopted?"

"Yeah, actually, black hair and blue eyes. He was super polite before he ran away."

"We have work to do. Oracle, lets prioritize finding our person of interest and divert Nightwing and Robin to the case on 4th." Batman cut between them on the comms and he sounded... calmer than either of them anticipated.

---

Jazz is no longer laughing when Batman appears at her door explaining that he's looking for Danny (Who already flew away from town to get a good night's sleep before class on Monday). Turns out Danny reunited the man with his dead parents just briefly- and then the second guy appears and mentions how Danny had also given a guy who'd been murdered by a Mob enough time to explain the ongoing threats the city faced.

Jazz just rolls her eyes and says that it's not like the ghosts are going anywhere anytime soon and Danny will visit in another month. When pressed, she just explains that her brother is a weirdo. No of course he doesn't have powers. Gaslight and Girlbosses her way out.

And Jazz thinks that the game is up for at least another month, obviously when Danny visits more shit will stir up, but then this new guy appears.

Unlike the other Bats who are keen on watching her from a distance, the Red Hood knocks on her door. Are her eyebrows all the way into her hairline when Red Hood asks her to send his thanks along to Danny because somehow this whole situation led to his Dad expressing remorse for his actions and apologizing? Yes, yes they are.

But Jazz can smell Dissertation Data off of these vigilantes- Who is she to send them away? Jazz welcomes Red Hood into her place for a cup of tea and a small chat.

The story then devolves into Jazz getting shit done, Danny being cute by proximity and also bringing ghosts to the party, and the Bats having trauma resolve between them.

[embarrassinglastwords]

“you’re my best friend, now i’ve no one to tell how i lost my best friend”

“you believe me like a god, i destroy you like i am.

i’m sorry i’m the one you love, no one will ever love me like you again

so when you leave i should die. i deserve it, don’t i?”

“your low warm voice curses as you find the strength to strike within me that rings out a note heard in heaven”

“you know i’d always been alone till you taught me to live for somebody.

that love is like a star. it’s gone, we just see it shining cause it travelled very far. keep a leftover light burning so you can keep looking up.”

(PT 1 of this for anyone interested)

(and if anyone’s interested here’s a playlist as well as just a normal stsg playlist)

[originalartblog]

[Storm Bringer]

My lips could not help but automatically curl into a smile as I watched Master Chuuya walk with a spring in his step.

[mercutio-doodles]

i just feel like marinette would go a lot more carnival costumey on her costume

[blubellion]

Some more fix-it lore.... Their daughter's name is Lola btw I'll dump about her next

(Template source: @/awfulalignmenrcharts on here <3)

[stealingpotatoes]

ok 1. sorry for decapitating your ask like this, i DID read the whole thing dw and 2. I imagine in the Republic, Jedi had a pretty well-rounded schooling, like most of it DEFINITELY focused on force and jedi stuff but come on you've gotta know maths and physics for all that wild force shit and do literature and history to understand ppl n cultures.

the new jedi order is at a disadvantage bc it's made up of 3 ppl who dropped out of school ages 17 (whose education got shitted by war), 12-13, and 7 respectively and only one guy who actually finished school -- and he went to school on Tatooine of all places. I imagine a visiting Leia, who had the best tutors/went to the fanciest schools on Alderaan, is probably the one to be like hey this is a school you guys-- are you guys teaching them like, stuff that isn't weird force techniques and immediate survival skills?? please say they know maths and literature outside of jedi texts?? which probably devolves into "Cal Ahsoka and Ezra have to sit there while Leia tries to teach them basic high school classes"

[weaselle]

There have been several things in my everyday life that i have just, "decided to not let bother me". And that seemed to work really well for me. Like, well if i can't seem to change that then i guess i'll just accept the fact that i'm a person whose life is like that, and be at peace with it.

years later i'm finding out that while i thought i was not letting it bother me, what i was actually doing was ignoring that it was bothering me the whole time. And, wow, are those two things different.

[triglycercule]

imagining this very funny totally amusing bit where dust (despite having a lot of pockets) makes horror carry a lighter for him (only because he can't be bothered to remember to bring one on him all the time) and horror keeps it in his head

but horror's a dick so everytime dust wants to smoke and he needs a light horror's always like "whats the password :3" (he actually said the emoticon i was the quotation marks) and dust has to guess. because horror changes it every time. and its never something predictable. and then he either just totally gives up on that cig or he has to forcefully dig into horror's head to get the lighter because horror's being a PRICK

now dust is shoulder deep into horror's eyesocket while horror is clawing and screaming and killer's just standing there behind them watching this unfold with that fuckass smile on his face (he can't get this type of entertainment anywhere else)

[burningcheese-merchant]

A Thought About Shadow Milk Cookie

I actually meant to make this post months ago, but I sort of let it fall to the wayside for the sake of other things. Now Blue Gatorade Cookie is coming out tomorrow and I'm like "ahhh shit I'm late" lol. Consider this a sequel/accompanying piece to the Burning Spice Cookie post

Shadow Milk always gave me a bit of the impression of being a Victor Frankenstein type. If you haven't read the book (please do, it's fantastic), then this quote sums up both the character, the story, and my perception of Shadow Milk pretty well:

"Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge, and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow."

Knowledge is power. Knowledge is freedom. Equally so, perhaps even MORE so, knowledge is fun. It's fun to learn new things. And with all of this in mind, Shadow Milk did his best to pursue the knowledge he so championed, and share it with the world, whatever it was. You give a man a fish and he eats for a day; you teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime. So Shadow Milk made it his mission to teach all men to fish. To teach them to read, to cook, to sew. To teach them magic, to teach them science, to teach them whatever filled the gap between. Perhaps he even went so far as to become a close associate of a certain academy, if not outright being its founder (Blueberry Yogurt Academy theorists, where you at lol). Anything to achieve the ultimate goal of inspiring others to learn and thrive as he does.

But as I said, knowledge is fun. There doesn't necessarily need to be a reason for it. Maybe Shadow Milk never actually needed one; even if there was no one left to teach, he could always teach himself, for he was always his own greatest student. And so whenever he had time, he read every book he could get his hands on. Practiced every spell. Sang every song, recited every poem, memorized every bit of meaningless trivia. Anything and everything to feed his endless hunger for more knowledge. Because it was... fun. It was freeing, to have those little burdens of doubt lifted from his shoulders, however inconsequential they actually were. And - however much he was able to admit it, to himself or to others - it made him feel powerful.

Until he started learning things no one else had before. That no one else could. That no one else should.

Maybe he learned how to peek into people's minds, and saw exactly how vapid, selfish, stupid and cruel so many of us really are beneath the façades we wear. Maybe he uncovered secrets that accidentally tore apart families, scandals that threw governments into chaos, acts of betrayal that may have started wars. Maybe one day, he learned the ultimate truth of the world; who and what cookies were really supposed to be, and what their makers really thought of them. (Not too far off from White Lily, really.)

In his desperation for solutions as well as some semblance of self-comfort, Shadow Milk just kept on learning. Kept searching for answers. Kept acquiring more and more knowledge. Because it was all he ever knew how to do. It was all he believed himself to be good for. But it was never enough. Not only did he never truly find the answers he sought - whether it be because they never existed in the first place, or because whatever he found only made him ask even more questions than before - but he just kept going down more and more rabbit holes. And he couldn't stop himself-

No. That's not true. Of course he could. He just didn't want to. Because knowledge is power, and deep down inside, he was always power-hungry. And besides that, he was just so curious. Morbid curiosity can be a terrible sin. Perhaps a small part of him, one he never wanted to give credence to, relished in being smarter than everyone else. And maybe that same part of him was also hubristic enough to believe he could learn whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted to, just because he could.

Perhaps Shadow Milk tried to sound the alarm, so to speak. Share those great and terrible truths he uncovered with the world. But nobody listened, no matter how much they believed in and respected him otherwise. Because the truth is stranger than fiction, more often than not, and there's only so much strangeness people can tolerate. Knowing this - knowing how foolish people can really be, how quick they are to shun the truth to protect their own feelings - he looked for another answer, like he always does. Shadow Milk always had a fondness for theatrics; he wasn't just a scholar, he was a poet, a playwright, an artist. And thus, it was with these talents and loves of his that he tried to teach people what he knew. He wrote stageplays that became famous. Fantasy novels that became bestsellers. Poems and essays that were read aloud in classrooms. Everything he could throw at the wall with as much panache as possible. Because that's who he is, and that's what people are more likely to listen to. People like bread and circuses, so he gave them a whole bakery and performed every circus act himself.

But it was never enough. Those threads of truth he so carefully wove into the tapestries of his work; no one felt them. Those easter eggs he hid; no one found them. Nobody ever saw what he saw, whether he snuck it into the picture or plastered it right in the center. And so Shadow Milk came to realize that no one ever actually wanted to know the truth, no one ever actually wanted to learn anything, no one ever actually valued knowledge. All people cared about was what they could personally gain from it and nothing more. No higher purpose of any kind. Just what conveniences and inconveniences them.

And what's the point in helping people like that? How do you teach the unteachable?

Shadow Milk likely became bitter (or sour, because lol milk). Maybe he slowly began turning truths against people. Hoarding people's secrets and spilling them randomly, just out of spite (and discreetly, because he wasn't looking to be caught, and nobody was smart enough to catch him anyway). Making puppets and plays depicting people at their absolute worst, and watching them all smile and clap because they fell for it. They fell for his jokes. For his ruse. They didn't notice he was mocking them without a shred of irony or remorse. The only art Shadow Milk became interested in after he succumbed to despair was telling cruel jokes at others' expense and painting pictures for all the Dorian Grays of the world so they can keep lying and pretending they're good and that they're worth something. Because lies are all people really want to hear, right? Because it makes them feel better about their miserable lives?

I'm sure Shadow Milk tried to turn back, even if only once, for just a minute. He's smart, he's wise, he knew what the end of that road looked like. Maybe he sat up all night just arguing with himself about it. About the nature of his work. The meaning of the knowledge he acquired. The meaning of knowledge itself. What was he doing this for, really? What has he EVER done this for? Was it really for others, or for himself? What if he gained all the knowledge in the universe, then what? What would he do after that? What if he did manage to convince people, what then? What if they panic? Turn on each other? Turn on him? Were they really better off not knowing?

Was he just slowly talking himself through that door until it was closed and locked? Did he do so knowingly? Did he delay the inevitable for... for what? Did he even know that?

All the knowledge in the world didn't save Shadow Milk from falling to darkness, nor did it save anyone from the chaos he chose to wreak afterwards. Maybe knowledge never saved anyone from anything. What is knowledge, anyway? What is truth? What is deceit? The more you know, the more you realize you don't know anything at all. Maybe truth and deceit are one and the same. Maybe reality is only what you perceive it to be. Maybe life is a joke. Maybe people should just have fun. Lie all you want. Tell truths just to drive wedges and shatter hopes and dreams. It doesn't matter. It's all the same. There's no way out.

TL;DR: Knowledge is power, but power corrupts. Perhaps not all truths are worth knowing, after all. Be careful with what you learn, and what you know. And be careful not to believe yourself to be smart enough to dictate what truth and lies and knowledge are to others, for no one truly is. That kind of hubris will only lead to disaster.

(I'm sorry if some of this sounds weird or doesn't make full sense. I wanted to get my thoughts out before the update to see if it turns out that anything I say has official merit lol)

[the-owl-tree]

i don't really care if richardson is reusing art, tracing, and altering it that's like normal artist stuff, but i do think his harsh lighting is one of the things i dislike as it feels very disconnected with the themes and tones of the series. his other work - geared towards superhero, sci-fi, and so on - work with that style, but i don't think it reflects warriors very well. i also just like more earthy tones so that's a me bias.