Tumgik
#crazy claws
funtasticworld · 10 months
Text
HAPPY 66TH ANNIVERSARY TO HANNA-BARBERA
Shows 1978 to 1981
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Godzilla // Jana of the Jungle // The Super Globetrotters // Scooby Doo and Scrappy Doo // Drak Pack // Richie Rich // Kwicky Koala // Bungle Brothers // Dirty Dawg // Crazy Claws
163 notes · View notes
sohannabarberaesque · 1 month
Text
Postcards from Snagglepuss
And a pretty quick run into Gatlinburg, come to think of it
SOMEWHERE ALONG THE PARKWAY (US 441) BETWEEN PIGEON FORGE AND GATLINBURG, TN: Between Cincinnati and Gatlinburg via I-75 (to Knoxville) and US 441 is about 230 miles, particularly allowing for the narrow north/south axis of Kentucky and Tennessee ... meaning about five hours' or so drive from the Queen City to the Queen Mother of Tourist Traps.
And with such eclectic company on top of other fellow Funtastics making their way unto the Great Smoky Mountains for what cometh Easter Sunday--no less than The Cattanooga Cats' Gatlinburg Easter Parade on The Parkway, the main tourist district of Gatlinburg, as anyone who has visited Gatlinburg heading into Great Smoky Mountains National Park will tell you.
Yet you wonder what makes Great Smoky Mountains such a popular national park to begin with, especially when you have a gateway like Gatlinburg and its kitschiness inherent in contrast to the unspoilt serenity expected of national parks, to begin with.
=============
So anyway, our company--yours truly, Huckleberry Hound, Crazy Claws, The King, Sheena and Ruff and Reddy--are at a gas station/convenience store on The Parkway within eyeshot of Dollywood. It seems Country, with the Cattanooga Cats, wanted us to meet the feline quartet there and get some directions to be led to as much accomodations as Cattanooga Klatsche, their Gatlinburg coffee shop and artisan roastery. Refuelling was more or less a subsidiary activity.
Considering the early traffic for the Easter weekend heading into Gatlinburg being what it was, it somehow required Kitty Jo, who was driving a modest little commuter car, to use back roads to reach our rendezvous.
"Uh, hello boys!" was how Kitty Jo, otherwise the female vocal and dance lead for the band, introduced us with that somewhat chirpy Southern accent of hers. Not to mention Teeny Tim by her side, and leashed, obviously. And pretty much everybody left the motorhome to extend greetings.
"At any rate, on behalf of the Cattanooga Cats as well as Cattanooga Klatsche ... may I just extend to you 'welcome' here to the Smoky Mountains--"
"Obviously," adding my own touch of levity to the proceedings, "not to be confused with Little Smokies sausages!" (Which got chuckles galore, guaranteed.)
"At any rate," Kitty Jo continued, "a little later in the evening, back at the Klatsche, we're gonna set up a buffet and discuss some of the plans for the parade weekend, which is also the Easter weekend."
Which had Reddy wondering "what exactly will the tourists otherwise be thinking, seeing us characters more or less along the Parkway?"
"We'll naturally cross that proverbial bridge at that time" was how Kitty Jo explained it. "As a precaution against rain," she added, considering that likelihood, "should rain ensue on Easter Sunday, we'll issue rain ponchos to participants."
"I just hope she knows what she's talking about," Huck remarked.
"And while there may not be a marching band as part of the Easter Parade," Kitty Jo quipped, "I certainly hope our characters' presence will make this Easter especially interesting! Especially with the meet-and-greet angle more than anything!"
After a few minutes more, Kitty Jo was able to lead our motorhome to a private parking area such as the Cats themselves have outside Cattanooga Klatsche in a modest alley just off the Parkway, and close to where the tourist trolley shuttles meet, even! And upstairs to a modest little apartment the quartet keeps above Cattanooga Klatsche, Crazy Claws, Huck and yours truly were directed to a modest little guest bedroom--if it could be called as much, and our presence stunning the band's drummer, resident wit and jock, Groove, who set up the sleeper sofa such as would serve as our sleeping quarters.
"Oh--and don't forget your bags," Kitty Jo chimed in as she and Country, the band lead and romantic interest of Kitty Jo, brought our modest luggage in and got things ready. (The others who came along with us found motel accomodations along the Parkway.)
So how do you think things will turn out?
@warnerbrosentertainment @indigo-corvus @jellystone-enjoyer @funtasticworld @zodiacfan32 @restroom @archive-archives @thylordshipofbutts @thebigdingle @gatlinburgvisitor-blog-blog @themineralyoucrave @screamingtoosoftly @warnerbros-blog1 @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @iheartgod175 @groovybribri @theweekenddigest @warnerbrosent-blog
2 notes · View notes
sellieaa · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
fruits n veggies
2K notes · View notes
hamartia-grander · 3 days
Text
Wyll calling his lover his 'star'. Astarion's spawn ending being him adventuring and performing heroics of his own choice. Wyll naming his adopted daughter Lily. The flower Astarion's lover puts on his grave being a lily. Monster hunter turned monster and monster turned hunter. Can nobody hear me
421 notes · View notes
flightdescending · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
repostoberr. this one is called... Vertical Format Illustrations. mostly from 2016 or 17, the last one is 2020 i think
359 notes · View notes
agentromanoffsir · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the cry of the wild goose, frankie laine // snufkin leaves moominvalley, the moomins // brandy (you're a fine girl), the looking glass // selkie, wikipedia page // song of the sea, cartoon saloon // chilling of the evening, arlo guthrie // swan princess crying, john bauer // wild geese, mary oliver // dinosaur, richard siken // selkie statue, mikladalur // brandy (you're a fine girl), the looking glass // the swan maiden, swedish fairytales // serethereal, tumblr post // moominvalley in november, tove jansson
291 notes · View notes
mwagneto · 5 months
Text
it's literally so fucking crazy that 10 tries so hard to get away from his trauma and his sadness but he literally never manages and everything he does just ends up with him being even sadder like any friend he makes inevitably leaves or meets some horrible end til he's left alone again and he just becomes more and more miserable no matter what. and despite all of that he's still so unprepared to die like out of all the nuwho doctors he's the one trying to cling on the hardest while screaming at the universe about how unfair it all is!! like his entire existence was basically nothing but more and more loss but he STILL wants to keep going and living and doing things!! but ofc that's not how the world works so we have to watch him die scared and alone after several minutes of him begging for his life. insane character
294 notes · View notes
purgetrooperfox · 6 months
Text
I don't think we talk enough about the bloodweave implications of gale getting snatched from camp and impersonated and kept by orin. impersonated having a suicidal spiral no less. to astarion's face. do you understand? astarion's seen so many of gale's smiles and masks that he thinks he recognizes all of them, but it still takes him a second to realize. he watches that same contortionist trick but it never hit when it happened to strangers, now it's happening to gale. now it matters, because orin has gale. do you understand?
245 notes · View notes
spaciebabie · 6 months
Text
friend group aint complete till you've got the aroace friend who's crazy horny about some fictional rando old man
273 notes · View notes
marbleboa · 8 days
Text
Tumblr media
The Scar birthdays are not yet over for this month…today is Takeuchi’s! Hope he’s doing well, whatever he’s up to…
109 notes · View notes
sohannabarberaesque · 1 month
Text
Postcards from Snagglepuss
Trying not to get paralysed on Hoosier Hospitality
BESIDE THE DECATUR COUNTY COURTHOUSE, GREENSBURG, IN: As in the celebrated tree growing in the clock tower thereof, which has positively been identified a few years back as being of the mulberry species, and long something of a landmark for travellers between Indianapolis and Cincinnati along I-74 (Indiana Exits 132 and 134) and US 321.
And still something of a mystery as to how such a tree could grow from such a height.
The which surprised even Ruff and Reddy, more or less the "pioneers" of our Funtastic community, who, like a few other friends of ours, are heading to Gatlinburg, Tennessee for an Easter Sunday to outdo Easter Sundays.
"So what exactly is it all about, Snagglepuss?" Ruff, an energetic little kitteh, asked at a downtown Greensburg cafe where our party, which had already included Crazy Claws, The King and Sheena--not to mention much in the way of cheese, sausage and crackers.
"You see, Ruff and Reddy," Huckleberry Hound explained, "our friends out in Gatlinburg, by name of the Cattanooga Cats--"
"I believe we've heard of them," Reddy remarked.
Huck continued: "Anyway, this feline quartet have a coffee house and artisan roastery in Gatlinburg, Tennessee ..."
Moi: "...and they are working on an Easter Parade of sorts for us fellow characters along The Parkway--that's Gatlinburg's main street, more or less--on Easter Sunday. An impromptu, almost casual sort of schtick, even, guaranteed to impress what tourists may be in the Great Smoky Mountains over Easter!"
"Which, you may like to know," Crazy Claws added, "is rather early in the ordained cycle for Easter. It'll be on March 31st this year!"
You could hear our little company gasping at the revelation.
"But," The King remarked with some swagger, "let it not be hoped that the parade will be rained upon!"
The whole accompanied over rather generous helpings of what would pass for the Blue Plate Sepcial down Indiana way, served rather generously and the waitresses trying not to be jerks. Or, worse yet, on a par with Hooters Girls. But still, it's just Indiana. Next stop, Cincinnati and a bowl of Cincinnati Chili galore!
*************
@warnerbrosentertainment @artistic-octopus @iheartgod175 @theweekenddigest @funtasticworld @archive-archives @thylordshipofbutts @themineralyoucrave @thebigdingle @screamingtoosoftly @warnerbros-blog1 @groovybribri @jellystone-enjoyer @indigo-corvus @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @warnerbrosent-blog
2 notes · View notes
lowpolyshadow · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i have to do everything my damn self around here
Tumblr media Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
olibiei · 5 months
Text
/ hermitshipping
god said draw men kissing and im nothing if not her most devoted soldier
Tumblr media
171 notes · View notes
otakuwithapen · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
What happens when you take Evil Chat #1 (Chat Blanc) and mix him with Evil Chat #2 (Claw Noir)? You get Claw Blanc! He is very very not okay.
The story so far (Content Warning: Attempted Suicide)
During one of Claw Noir and Shadybugs’ arguments, Betterfly attempts to intervene. He sends a Kamiko in the hopes of calming at least one of them down enough to talk. Shadybug notices the Kamiko and shoved Claw Noir in the way. Claw, reacting too slow to Cataclysm the butterfly, is Kamikotized into Claw Blanc and given the power of Hindsight to see the error of his ways.
Unfortunately, as Betterfly attempts to talk to Claw Blanc, he manages only to send him into a crisis of identity. Shadybug and Betterfly can hardly get a word in before Claw Blanc flees. Claw spends the next few days in hiding, the Kamiko stopping him from transforming back and plaguing him with horrible clarity. He’s haunted by flashes of everything he’s done, everyone he’s hurt, with and without his Miraculous. Everything he’s done in the name of The Supreme—everything he’s done in the name of his own amusement. Every innocent civilian he’d scared back into like, every Kamikotized hero he’d beaten to a pump.
For nearly a week, Shadybug searches for Claw in an attempt to bring him to his senses. After all, as much as she loathed to admit it, he was useful.
For nearly a week, Betterfly spends his nights searching for Claw in order to speak with him—meanwhile Gabriel’s days are consumed seeking his absent son.
Both find what they’re looking for at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. Claw Blanc looks terrible. He looks exhausted. His cheeks are streaked with the drying wake of fallen tears. Had his eyes not already been red, they’d have been bloodshot. His hair was messy—not in the intentional, chaotic fashion he usually kept it, but in a way achieved only by neglect and nights spend in and out of sparse, fitful sleep.
Betterfly steps forward, opening his mouth to speak, before Claw Blanc cuts him off.
He was right all along. All the innocents hurt, all the little glimmers of light stomped out, Betterfly had been right all along. Shadybug and Claw Noir weren’t helping anyone. They weren’t even helping themselves. All they were was The Supreme’s personal militia, stalking the streets like pests. Claw Blanc thought back to the look on Plagg’s face every time he detransformed; horrified yet acceptant. Even the Kwami knew this was all wrong.
Shadybug and Betterfly both tried to interject to little avail, they conflicting arguments white noise to Claw. He raised his hand skywards, focusing his power into his palm. An ever present pain roared through his nerves, the decay comforting in some morbid way. He couldn’t help but wonder if Shadybug felt that same pain. Karma for all they’d done—all they’d hurt. He muttered a half-hearted apology as the destructive energy condensed into a tangible sphere. He wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore. He closed his eyes.
Cataclysm.
Pain seared in his chest, causing him to fall to his knees as his nerves screamed in agonizing harmony. For a moment, Claw wondered if this is how every hero he’d used his power on felt. Every out-of-line civilian. For a moment Claw knew nothing but white-hot pain. He heard Shadybug and Betterfly crying out for him.
As soon as it came, it was gone. The burning stopped. Claw Blanc was still for a long moment before opening his eyes again. He stared down, where his hand sat pressed against his chest. Had something gone wrong? Slowly he looked up, eyes widening at the scene before him. He stood in a charred crater, starting down two statues. One held her arms over her face as if to defend herself from some attacker, the other reached forward, offering an undeserved hand to his most bitter enemy. The ambiance of Paris was gone. No people chattered. No birds sang. No pestilent bugs nagged him for his apathy. There was nothing.
In his attempt to stop himself from hurting anyone, Claw Blanc realized, he had destroyed everyone.
300 notes · View notes
shiresome · 7 months
Text
👍 !!
Tumblr media
258 notes · View notes
reamed · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
63 notes · View notes