#yall are adorable!!

[chloesimaginationthings]

Guilt will follow Michael in every FNAF universe..

[semisolidmind]

Does DogDay have romantic feelings for your sona or is it more platonic? The way you draw him I wouldnt mind if it was the first- 👀

(theyre not a sona, just a standard y/n insert. im not much of a self shipper. the y/ns are their own characters in a way)

and as far as feelings go…

there’s affection on both sides...but perhaps something more from our favorite dog.

[ruubesz-draws]

He always looks angry

But he's actually a real big softie (only for Mothra tho)

(The angle is very important)

[lazorbeanz]

THE BROTHERS!!!!

❤️💙💛

TAILS FINALLY GOT SOME POPCORN!!! (Well for a minute there anyways lol) 🙌🍿

[p4nishers]

[thru tears] yah the fifth elephant was nicq

[jadecantcreate]

an alternate fancy outfit for my darling <3 he deserves it

detail / doodle close ups

[sunnyirry]

drew collie in that one artstyle cus i can :3

[niinnyu]

✨️✨️

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP x DC AU

Danny's gonna adopt all the Halfas in Gotham whether he wants to or not, and it's gonna start with the little dead girl he found after crawling out of that portal in the league base.

Pt 2 here. My Au Art

...........................

There's a dead little girl sitting on the rug in front of Danny's coffee table curiously eating Cheetos.

Well, she's not all the way dead, only half, could even be a little less then that, Danny would know he's sort of the leading expert on being half dead.

Her skins blue, like comic book mystique blue, vibrant and impossible to miss. Shes got these big black eyes and a nasty split going straight through her upper lip to just under her right eye.

She's also missing her nose, it's just gone, no cartilage left over just the gaping nasal cavity like skulls have.

The little girl looks dead, she is dead, or she's at least as dead as Danny is which is almost exclusively in name only.

Her name is Curaré, Danny only knows it because it's been branded into the skin of the little girls neck, just under the curve of her bald skull.

Curaré is terribly thin, the little toddler sized T-shirt she has on hangs loose around her torso where baby fat should fill it out.

She's horrible to look at, a tiny nightmare, her corpse like coloring doing nothing to mitigate the appearance.

Curaré was neither a healthy nor normal little girl, there was no way Danny could have left that league facility without her.

Oh and she almost exclusively spoke in Spanish which made finding her dinner hard.

Not that Cheetos are really dinner, little kids need to eat more then that Danny was pretty sure, like 89% sure. Although they did have a lot of calories...

Danny tilts his head absently as he looks at her, the little demon being illuminated red and green by the glow of the TV. She's enraptured by the Scooby doo rerun Gotham's only spanish language channel is playing tonight.

As if she can feel his eyes she turns to him and tilts her head the same way.

Danny blinks at her, Curaré blinks back.

" Uh- " Danny starts, trying to remember anything from his Spanish elective from sophomore year. God, his teacher had been right he had needed to study more. " The Cheetos, you like them? They're uh...bueno? Oh! Son Buenos?"

He points his finger down at the snack sized bag in her grasp, her fingers are tiny , they must be so fragile, looking at the desperate grasp they have on the bag makes Danny's chest hurt. How could anyone be so small? Had Danny ever been that small?

Curaré blinks again, long and slow, processing Danny's words. She looks down at her Cheetos and back up at Danny then she carefully holds the bag out to him.

" Oh no that's ok they're for you kiddo" Danny insists.

Curaré shakes the bag at him, like enticing a stray cat with treats but he only shakes his head again.

She gives up after that, shrugging and turning back to her cartoons.

Inside her chest Danny can feel her ghost core vibrate placidly as Scooby and Shaggy run across the TV in a panic.

Danny's own core can't help but try to match it's frequency, a low contented humming echoes between them, safe it seems to say.

Curaré can't be older then 4, which means she was resurrected young and that she died even younger. Danny doesn't know how any of it happened, halfas aren't created easily, the amount of energy needed...

She's so small.

He hopes it was fast, whatever it was that did this to her, made her like him.

Danny also hopes that her injuries aren't permanent. Some ghosts keep the carnage of their corpses well into the after life but as a Halfa Curaré should heal, even if she got those injuries during her ressurction. For her sake it'll be much easier to find some sense of normalcy if she isn't always actively bleeding, even if the blood itself is just an ecto-echo of real blood.

Danny curls his knees up to his chest and hides his face for a moment just trying to breathe. He's too young to be taking care of a toddler, he's still six months away from turning 18 and hes got school on Monday. His eyes burn and his throat constricts as he tries to swallow.

No one else but Danny would know how to take care of Curaré, and she's got no family to try and stumble their way through it. Danny can't take her back to the league and he sure as hell isn't going to search for whoever put that brand on her neck.

Even if he dropped her off at the fire station Gotham only has one Meta focused orphanage, it's state run and all the kids in it have to wear little prison style jump suits. And the food sucks, Danny can personally vouch for that.

She doesn't have a home, she's just as out of place here in Gotham as Danny is. Danny really wishes, not for the first time, that he had an adult here. Like Jazz or hell even Mr. Fuckin Lancer.

Just anyone. Anyone who could tell Danny what to do about this. Who could help him out with the child he's suddenly acquired.

He wishes anyone else was here so it wouldn't just be him and Curaré. Two dead kids sitting on the floor of a studio apartment in the Bowery watching cartoons.

What a pair the two of them will make, oh God. Danny laughs as a few tears stain his jeans.

Curaré makes a curious little noise that has Danny forcing his head up. She's reached the inevitable end of her snack sized bag and she looks absolutely devastated. She turns to look at him, tilting the empty bag towards him as if to say ' can you believe this shit!'

Danny can't help but give her a watery smile, no more crying Fenton, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

" Okay, one thing at a time." Danny tells himself. " You finished your Cheetos and now it's time for dinner, right? Stop me if I'm wrong."

Curaré just looks at him.

Danny's not worried, they're gonna have all the time in the world to teach her to appreciate humour and also English.

" I'm going to take that as a yes. " Danny hops up off the floor and goes to find his phone, nobody does dinner like the local Batburger.

Little foot steps follow him into the hallway, he'll have to get used to that sound he's going to be hearing it a lot.

Food first, everything would be better after they ate.

...............

For BG I imagine he's been living in Gotham for a few months and found Curaré while popping in and out of different portals in Gotham. (Who woulda guessed that some portal in Gotham leads right to the lazarus pit)

Note: if u wanna see cool art for this AU it's all in the Danny and the little dead girl au tag on my pg!

[graycious-tea]

All yall saying Tommy calling Buck Evan is disrespectful and like malicious clearly don’t remember my man, fellow bi icon Magnus Bane calling his pookie Alec Lightwood, Alexander at any given moment despite no one calling him Alexander except his parents who also suck like my man was gone on that shadowhunter and so is Tommy!!!

[nyaskitten]

Top ten guys of all time !!!

[possession1981-moving]

CHISA Woke Up, 240605

[bigdumbbambieyes]

Billy’s been watching his boyfriend wear himself thin all week.

Hell, maybe even longer than that. Two or three weeks — a month, at most.

And it’s not like he’s a piece of shit boyfriend that doesn’t try to help, it’s that his stubborn as fuck boyfriend won’t let him.

Steve’s always carried his pride everywhere he went, even now. He’s swamped at work and hates it, he’s getting calls from the Hawkins brats every other night with questions about college or whatever else is going on in their lives, his parents are trying to buy property in San Diego so he’s going to look at houses when he can, he’s trying to spend time with Billy…

It’s just a lot at once.

And Steve won’t let Billy take anything off his overflowing plate for him.

So, Billy backs off, but does what he can. He cooks meals for them that’ll keep Steve going, he kisses him every chance he gets and mumbles quiet praise into Steve’s shoulder when they hug, he drives the pretty boy around to the viewings and whatever appointments he has.

He can see the dark circles under his boyfriend’s eyes now. How the light has dulled a little in his coffee bean eyes.

It’s infuriating and sad. Billy doesn’t understand why Steve can’t just fucking sit down for an afternoon and do nothing.

It’s late when Steve finally comes home, toeing his shoes off and complaining about what a dump the latest house was, how his mom would never approve of the flooring and that his dad would hate the landscaping. Billy just nodded along and lead Steve into the bathroom with him, starting up the shower.

The day washed off and comfy clothes on, they slip into bed and Steve rolls over onto his side away from Billy, expectant.

It’s cute. Billy fits himself in right behind Steve, his chest to his back, and their hands meet over Steve’s chest, their fingers interlocking.

They whisper ‘goodnight’ and Billy closes his eyes as he falls asleep to the scent of Steve’s shampoo.

But, he doesn’t stay asleep for too long.

He feels the sniffle before actually hearing it, Steve’s chest expanding with a stutter, the rain pattering against their bedroom window covering up the soft sounds of his boyfriend’s crying.

“Stevie?” Billy whispers, his voice thick from sleep as he blinks his eyes open, glancing at the clock and noting that it’s only been an hour.

“Oh—m’sorry,” Steve sniffles, glancing over his shoulder, and even in the dark of the room he can see his boyfriend’s tear-soaked eyelashes.

“Sorry? Why’re you sorry?” Billy murmurs, pulling him back into his chest, propping himself up a little so he can look down at Steve. He can’t help but to lean in and press his nose to his love’s cheek, feeling how hot it is, as they usually get whenever Steve finally musters up the energy to cry.

He’s like his mother that way. Things have to pile up before he lets himself cry it all out.

Steve doesn’t answer, just stares up at Billy with a crushed expression, his lip pouting and brows furrowed as he fights back the new tears wobbling in his eyes.

He makes this soft little pathetic sound in the back of his throat and Billy can’t help the little cooing sound he makes in return, pressing a couple kisses to Steve’s cheek before he murmurs, “C’mere.”

And Steve turns to face him instantly, cuddling into Billy’s chest and letting himself cry again, his body wracking with sobs as Billy rubs up and down his boyfriend’s back with a small, sad smile.

“What’s wrong?” Billy asks after a couple minutes, even though he already knows.

“I-I can’t sleep,” Steve sniffles again, “And my fucking shoulders hurts, like, I can’t get comfy, and work sucks and this entire…stupid thing with my parents is annoying but I wanna help them out, and the kids keep calling but they never did before so I wanna keep that connection but it’s all the time now—and I’m so tired…”

New tears come then, another wave, and Billy pets his hand through Steve’s dark hair, kissing his forehead and sliding his hand down to wipe away his tears, mumbling, “You’re always overworking yourself, baby, you gotta take a break…”

“But I don’t know how,” Steve half whines, because he always gets whiny when he cries. Billy hates that he thinks it’s cute.

“Well, we’ll figure that out together, yeah?” Billy hums, because honestly even he doesn’t fully know how to relax or take a break, but they’ve always made a great team.

“Yeah,” Steve mumbles, like he believes it, before reaching up to wipe at his wet face and he gives that awkward little laugh he always does after he cries, saying again, “Sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize for nothing, princess,” Billy smiles sleepily once their eyes meet, “I got you.”

Steve’s smile softens into something more genuine and he shifts closer again to press a kiss to Billy’s lips, mumbling instead, “Thank you…”

“Mm, much better,” Billy smiles against Steve’s mouth, happy to hear the soft laugh his boyfriend makes into the quiet darkness of their bedroom, the sound of the rain outside still going strong.

The next morning, Billy wakes up early. Too early. It’s so early he could go back to bed.

But, before he does that, he gets up and walks to the living room, where he unplugs the cord from the back of their phone.

Satisfied, he crawls back into bed and curls up against Steve’s side, listening to the sleepy sounds his boyfriend makes as he gets his much-deserved sleep in.

[pookiebearhelaena]

Princess Jaehaera and her uncle Prince Daeron, 131 AC

[fxreflyes]

thank you all for the tags 🥹 @polaroidcats @faggylittleleatherboy @kaaaaaaarf @lynxindisguise @kaleidoscopexsighs @greengrug you are all on my rob list <333

OPEN TAG <33 pls do this this is so cute

but also! np tagging: @cosmmicdancer @shipsnsails @pretentiouswreckingball @sugarsnappeases @belleandsaintsebastian

@fatemy-friend @allbuthuman @dickggansey @all-yourn @velanavis @stillforests

@fruityindividual @angelfruittree @godsofwoes @werewolfenthusiast @magneto-manifesto @faefibs

[willowser]

but this touya 🥺 he's sitting at the kitchen table too early in the morning, awake because your ex-boyfriend is coming to pick up your daughter for their father's day out. touya is half-asleep in his cheerios, only grunting out a response when your daughter asks him questions, bright and cheery, laughing too loud when she pokes and prods him and he grabs her hands up in his own and tickles her.

when the doorbell rings, she's scooping up her backpack and unzipping it quickly, slapping a folded up piece of paper on the table before running off around the corner. you follow her, exchange some pleasantries with her dad, wish him a happy father's day, give your daughter a hug and tell her you'll see her in a few days.

she stands in the doorway and shouts, loud, the high pitch in her voice echoing off the ceiling. "bye dabi!" and when he says it in return, she ends with, "i love you!"

(you don't miss the twist of your ex-boyfriends lips, his clear disaste for touya souring his expression.)

(you don't miss touya's hesitant pause from the kitchen, his voice scratchy and low when he calls back, "love you, too, kid.")

after she's gone, you mosey on back to the kitchen to see him leaning over whatever she'd left him; a piece of construction paper, colorful and a bit messy and crinkled, but all her nonetheless.

it's a picture of she and touya as little stick figures, him much too tall, hair dark and spiky. in between them, you think, is a drum-set, a call-back to the time he'd brought her to the bar he works at before it opened, during the day, and he'd let her bang around on all the instruments and be as loud as she'd wanted.

happy fathers day i love you is written across the top in bright pink, a little hard to read, but there regardless. touya stares at it quietly, only coming back to life after you run a hand over his back gently.

"mom's gonna lose it when she sees this," he murmurs quietly, shaking his head as if the idea is ridiculous.

but you don't miss his quiet sniff, the way he clears his throat before carefully folding the paper back into place, keeping it held tightly in his fist.