#oh my god im so happy with this

[madadrawing]

Artfight Attack for Raydowi on Twitter!!! I love her Poochyena, Oxy, SO much and me and them have talked about our OCs a lot, and both she and I thought Darcy would be friend's soooooo... I drew them together!!! I'm super proud of this, I did much better at Cel Shading than I remember being able to do GDNSPGNDPSOGNDS

[citrine-elephant]

welcome leon!

[crows-home]

part of my nimona viewing experience. idk why but i got super emotional in the first five minutes.

ID by @peachygos

[ID: A comic juxtaposing screenshots from Nimona 2023 and drawings of a person watching the movie. The first screenshot is Ambrosius's introduction; he grins at the camera as the news anchors introduce him, his name in big print on the screen. The person watching thinks with a bored expression, "Ah. Ok. This guy is gonna be the jackass. Typical golden-boy stuck-up prince that thinks he's better than the underdog. I see where this is going.

The next screenshot is of Ambrosius and Ballister on the platform above the arena, Ambrosius doing his news anchor bit and saying, "Aaand will Ballister be broody on the biggest day of his life?" Ballister laughs at his antics. The person watching now has a small smile, as they think, "Huh! Aw, they're actually nice to each other and are friends! I wasn't expecting that, that's nice-"

The third and final screenshot is a shot from behind of Ballister leaning his head on Ambrosius's shoulder. The caption reads "the knighting ceremony is just moments away." The person watching now has a touched, soft expression, like they're holding back tears. They think "OH." as a partially transparent doodle behind them bends over crying and blubbering, with another doodle showing their heart shot through with an arrow. /end ID]

[hinamie]

spiraling

[galaghiel]

i just had to draw this dialogue. the voices compelled me

[xcchoco]

a recopilation of some drawings i did while i was reading heaven official’s blessing 👍🏻

[sparrowchute]

chat how are we feeling

[redfirefox-55]

Please guys go read Software Entropy by @clubsheartsspades (I hope you don’t mind the tag!)

It literally destroyed me. I forced my sister to read it and it destroyed her too. I just had to draw something for it because I couldn’t get this quote out of my head, but I couldn’t possibly do the scene justice in the same way as in the fanfiction so you need to go read it yourself

[coffeehater19]

I can't explain how happy i am when the "oh oh" shows up in a fanfic

[heartorbit]

bugs when you lift up a rock

[hooned]

enhypen's dancers congratulating them after their 3-day concert 🎉🍾

[qcoded]

world in his hands.

(can y'all tell im brainrotting over sonic 'n tails gijinkas. can y'all tell.)

[warmfuzzyanimal]

mspaint commissions !!!! all 16 of 'em!!

[omrarchive]

[hinamie]

idk about yall but life is good again

[starry-bi-sky]

im dedicating this to @detectivedarling. i felt inspired after seeing their little ficlet yesterday sadhjfl 🫶

-

Danny's grip on his cane tightens.

"What—"

His voice cracks. He stops, clears it, then tries again in spite of the nausea twisting in his gut. "What are — you, uh, watching, Bruce?" He sounds horribly far away.

Bruce doesn't look at him, his attention laser-focused on the screen. Which is— fine. It's usually not a problem, Bruce gets like that when he hyper-focuses on a case, and unless it's urgent — or he's been at it for hours — Danny sees no need to pull him away from it. He likes the quiet camaraderie they have, it's companionable and unique to the two of them.

He wishes he was right now though. Looking at him, that is.

That way he wasn't watching what was clearly one of Danny's ghost fights. One of the nastier ones, if the collateral damage and rubble on the street is of any indication.

Danny tries to remember which one that is. He shuffles a little closer to the desk, ignoring the rock in his stomach or the ugly weightlessness in his arms. It's not the blood blossoms, that much he knows. He just recently had an injection so it shouldn't be bothering him this soon—

So it's just nerves. Perfect.

Most footage of his fights are— messy, at best. Unusable at worst. Amity Park was obsessed with appearing 'normal' when they first started happening, and typical news stations censor the worst of the fights anyways for publishing, since they can get pretty gory at times. And ghosts move too fast to be caught on regular standard cameras, not including distance and light and—

That is to say— finding usable ghost fight videos is hard.

Danny wonders how Bruce got his hands on this one, and then stops wondering.

The audio is muted, which is - good. Good, because the fight is ugly and chaotic and clearly this was taken on someone's phone. Fuck, he can't remember if he ever saw that before — clearly not. They're hiding behind an overturned car, and Danny grits his teeth so he doesn't tell that idiot to run.

The camera turns up, and focuses on two figures in the air. It takes a few seconds, but when it does, Danny gets hit with a wave of vertigo. His grip tightens and he leans heavily on his cane, he waits for the black dots to disappear.

He- uh, he remembers this fight now. Uh, sort of.

He remembers being twelve at the time, and he remembers some of the injuries he got out of it. His eyelid spasms abruptly. This ghost wasn't one of his regulars, so he doesn't remember whatever name they had, barely remembered what they looked like up until- uh. Now.

Was he always that small? Well— Phantom's never been particularly big, perks of being a dead kid, but— it's - different. Seeing it from an outsider perspective. Was he that small? Or is it just because he's wearing a jumpsuit clearly too big for him that casts the illusion of being small?

Doesn't really - matter. Now. He can't access his ghost form, and he already knows the answers to his appearance.

Phantom is clearly bleeding, viscous and violently green like the bubbles of a lava lamp, clutching onto a limp shoulder that's missing an arm from the elbow down. Half his face is drenched in similar blood, the eye on the drenched side is closed — not because he can't see through the ectoplasm.

Danny's memories of that fight slowly come in a bit clearer. Right. He took a pole to the eye in that one. That had - hurt. A lot. Getting an eye gouged out usually does. It and the missing arm took hours to grow back.

He rubs his eye with his palm for no other reason than it itches.

The other ghost isn't untouched of any injury either, but he's not in a state of dismemberment like Phantom is.

Danny drops his gaze down at Bruce, whose sitting in his chair with his hands threaded together, looking so tense that Danny half expects to meet solid steel if he were to touch his back. His face is - blank. Terribly blank, with an intensity in his eyes that Danny doesn't see often.

He looks terribly distressed.

He opens his mouth, and finds that nothing comes out. His throat is thick with an ugly, tar-like feeling that makes his eyes sting. Kinda reminds him of when someone wraps their hands around your throat and presses. He closes his mouth, then tries again.

"B—" hhhhhh, "Buzz."

Finally Bruce looks at him, one hand slaps the space button on the keyboard, and the video pauses. His expression doesn't shift, but there's a weight in the lines of his face that reminds Danny of a set of weights sagging.

He looks quite like he's grieving something.

Bruce opens his mouth, his voice comes out terribly soft and heartbroken: "He looks like you."

Which is— a terrifying sentence in and of itself. One that makes Danny's legs shake and ignite his ragged, poison-chewed nerves alight with the need to run. An instinctive urge to deny, deny, deny.

How could he? He could say, that's a ghost, Bruce. I'm not a ghost. He could crack a joke, and ask, 'do I look dead to you?' or say something about how he knows that his parents studied ghosts, but that didn't make him one.

He could say that, and he could say it knowing full well that Bruce would see right through it. He'd probably let Danny too.

Danny closes his eyes. They sting, you see? So does his nose, right in the back like someone popped him in the face. And his throat is thick and gross and like someone stuck a spider, the big fat tarantula kind, right down into his esophagus.

He breathes in — through his mouth, because his nose stings and so it'd be best not to irritate it further with air — and it's terribly shaky and uneven. But it clears a pathway to his lungs big enough for him to say — whisper, really:

"You know, I think you're the first person to notice that."