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#these are so fucking funny to make
spyglassrealms · 1 year
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had a fucking hilarious dream that tumblr replaced the "block" function with the far funnier "glock" function, which did the exact same thing except whenever anyone blocked you a random bullet hole, like a png of a bullet hole, would appear on your blog. discourse blogs were unreadable bc you'd go to the page and the sheer amount of bullet hole pngs stacked over the blogs obscured everything. I woke myself up laughing
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daftmooncretin · 2 months
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spock’s room decor is actually fucking bonkers. The weapons??? the big red velvet curtain??? like ok phantom of the opera go crazy.
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for reference jim’s room has some photos and a plant so we can surmise this is uniquely a spock being a dramatic weirdo thing
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liquidstar · 4 months
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Yes, Greece still exists, we didn't all die 2000 years ago. Yes, people speak Greek. You people are so fucking stupid for real. So many of you claim to love ancient shit but can't even acknowledge the actual living culture of the people whose mythology and classics you romanticize. You keep leaving annoying comments about how you just forget Greek people still exist, thinking you're being quirky because you love ancient stuff soooo much that you forgot about the people it came from. You think about it so little you don't even realize that an actual Greek person has to read this shit, making it clear how little you actually care about the culture beyond the romanticized (and westernized) mythology. Don't claim you love Greece, don't use our mythology anymore if you can't acknowledge that we're still around without making it about how little you think about us. It's mind boggling that you'd think a Greek person would read this and think you're anything but obnoxious. Explode.
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artkaninchenbau · 2 months
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Crocodile finds a strange stray cat an 11-year old Nico Robin (AU where they met 13 years earlier. Robin's been on the run from the World Government for 3 years. Crocodile's 27 and has not set up base in Alabasta yet)
It seems like I have become possessed. By some sort of demon.
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Bonus:
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cozylittleartblog · 8 months
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@staff if you [change] the [design] of the fucking [dashboard] i will kill you
edit. i want it on the actual post that i am not actually making a de-th threat against the staff. that's shitty. the caption quotes the fucking costco hot dog meme, which i originally said in the tags. if any staff member sees this please do Not take it personally
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denkies · 11 months
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🐈 clan-confessions  Follow
i'll never say this publicly but honestly i think tigerstar had some valid ideas about having one big clan. obviously he was super wrong with all the violence and force, but one big clan could solve a lot of issues. No more border patrol fighting, more food for everyone during leaf-bare season, no drama involving cross-clan mates, etc etc. a lot of deaths could be avoided if we all took care of one another instead of fighting all the time
🌠 fishluvr76  Follow
ok are we all going to ignore that anon is siding with a literal DICTATOR??? :/
🌸 sweet-tooth  Follow
That's not what they meant and you KNOW it. They brought up some valid points about preserving lives, and denounced Tigerstar's actions as much too violent. Starclan above, no cat can have an opinion these days...
🌒 singlequeen7  Follow
Honestly I don't know how I feel about this... each Clan is beautifully unique and has their own traditions, which would fade away if Clans were desolved altogether. But OP makes a valid point about less violence and food scarcity. I hate the idea of sending my kits off to become Warriors, only for them to die during a stupid argument about Sunningrocks. A pile of rocks is NEVER worth a cat's life, whether they are in your Clan or not. And we have lost lives like that before.
🍄 medicinepawz  Follow
I agree! Traditions are important, but every medicine cat knows that working together saves lives. Sharing herbs can stop the spread of greencough, and sharing prey stops kits from crying from hunger. We really need a better system, because I can't cry myself to sleep another night, blaming myself for not having enough cobwebs to stop a kit from bleeding out in front of me.
🐅 lonelywarrior5346-deactivated
leave it to a woman and a medicine cat to emotionally manipulate proud warriors into giving up our PURECLAN bloodlines and Clan patriotism lolol
🍄 medicinepawz   Follow
HELLO?????
🐛 bug-enjoyer  Follow
> complains about "emotional manipulation" (it wasn't?)
> proceeds to be misogynystic AND racist in the same sentence???
> we get it babygirl, you want to fuck Tigerstar. weird ass mf.
🐈‍⬛ moondrops  Follow
"Lonelywarrior5346" is Flintstep from Riverclan btw
🌸 sweet-tooth  Follow
LMFAOOOOWAGWHQAKDHOA
🫐 berrycloud  Follow
GET HIS ASS
🌌 dorkstar  Follow
nah bc which one of you killed this dude yesterday lmfao 😭💀
🌸 sweet-tooth  follow
NO ARE YOU FR
🐛 bug-enjoyer  Follow
@ dorkstar say sike right now 😭😭
🌌 dorkstar  Follow
border patrol found him dead in a ravine 😭 yall play too much
🫐 berrycloud  Follow
when i said get his ass i did not mean like this
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ao3-crack · 5 months
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(x)
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tmgstudios · 1 year
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DO YE WORK UP AN APPETITE
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nabtime · 3 months
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Better Watch Out
Danny had just started to feel like he was settling in with the Waynes. It had been... not ideal circumstances that brought him to the family in the first place, so getting used to not having to deal with all that mess was the first hurdle. The second being getting used to dealing with an entirely new- if more pleasant, mess. The Waynes, and Gotham by extension, were- to put it lightly- fucking crazy. He wasn't in Amity anymore and however much he'd thought it was the weirdest place on the planet before- he was absolutely rethinking that now. Where he had been one hero against a handful of villains, Gotham had a whole brigade of vigilantes against an army of villains. And they were... Bat-themed. For the most part. He'd yet to meet any of them, so he hadn't gotten the chance to ask what all that was about.
None of that was the point though. The point was that Danny had only recently stopped feeling like a fish out of water around his new foster family, and now the Holidays were coming. The Holidays that always served to put him in a sour mood. The Holidays that made him more prone to lash out and snap at those that didn't deserve it. The Holidays that, despite being Jewish by heritage, Bruce seemed oddly enthusiastic about celebrating.
(It reminded him, painfully, of Sam. He'd yet to be able to see here since everything went down and he missed her and Tucker something fierce. Which was maybe also putting him in a bad mood.)
So you really couldn't blame him for feeling a little tense about the whole situation. Not only were the Christmas decorations that smothered the Manor making him grouchy, but his grouchiness was also making a guilty pit form in his stomach. He was a moody teenager and adding trauma on top of that didn't help how caustic he could be- and adding fear on top of that made it all the worse. What if he saw Dick in his Santa hat, grinning and innocent, and he snapped? What if he saw Damian, stoic but loving, give Titus a shiny red bow-tie collar for the season and he made a caustic comment that went too far? What if he saw Bruce so much as smile at him while standing near the giant tree in the foyer and he saw green?
What if he ruined Christmas? Again? For people that didn't deserve it? Again? What if he hurt the people he cared about that had only ever shown him care and consideration? Again?
So Danny was just a bit tense. A bit on edge. And he was trying. Oh Ancients was he trying. To not be such a little bitch about all the Christmas stuff. But he had a limit. Bruce, being the rich socialite that seemed far too enthusiastic about family-centered holidays, did not have a limit. Every inch of the manor was covered in tinsel and holly and blinking lights and fake snow. Every spare moment was filled with different siblings being coerced into doing cheesy holiday activities, with Danny being the only one to attend every single one of them. (Cutting down a Christmas tree with Jason. Buying presents at the mall with Tim. Decorating while hanging from the chandelier with Dick. Caroling very badly with Stephanie. Making snow angels with Cass. Watching Christmas movies with Duke.) And he attended them all with a barely restrained snarl and a badly bitten tongue. The one time, one time, he'd told Bruce no- the guilt had eaten him alive (and dead) at seeing the man melt into the most pathetic kicked-puppy look he'd ever seen.
No grown man should ever be able to do that with his face. Danny never wanted to see that again.
In return, though, he had to face the Horrors.
The latest Horror being the worst he'd ever faced to date. A Horror that he thought he'd never have to face. He thought he'd slipped past this particular one by aging out. He was too old for this. He shouldn't be there. Damian, scowling and eyes filled with murderous intent, shouldn't be there. Dick and Bruce seemed to both be having the time of their lives. It was far too disturbing- and the continuous blasting of Christmas music and the overheated crush of a restless crowd only made it worse.
They were in line to see Santa at the mall.
It made his skin crawl. He was fifteen! Damian, the poor bastard, was also fifteen!
He could practically feel Ghostwriter laughing his ass off at his predicament. This was worse than getting stuck in a rhyming Christmas cautionary tale. He would 100% rather be stuck in one of Ghostwriter's cheesy poems than be stuck in the stupidly long line to see the fake mall Santa that probably didn't want to be there just as much as Danny.
But Bruce looked so fucking happy. Genuinely happy.
It was something he'd noticed early on about his foster dad. He smiled a lot and smiled big, but he rarely ever meant it. Now, Danny wasn't usually one to notice things like that. He got pretty wrapped up in his own problems and just- didn't have the skill to notice these things. Usually. But, well, being ghostly gave him a bit of an advantage. He could get a pretty good read on a person's emotions, regardless of what expression they wore. If he felt close enough to them. Frostbite had compared it to, like, family pack bonding. And he really, really didn't want to think about that further (why had it never worked for his parents? why did he feel so close to Bruce so quickly? why?) But, more importantly, he could tell that while Bruce smiled a lot, he rarely meant it.
But whenever Danny or his foster sibling begrudgingly participated in "family holiday activities" he smiled and he meant it. Bruce, fundamentally, was a sad man. Always grieving something. But here and now? In line to see his teenage children visit fucking Santa in the mall? He was smiling from ear to ear and his emotions, for once, matched. Yeah, there was a hint of mischief there, but it was overwhelmed by the giddy joy and excitement.
A suspicious amount of excitement... Like he was expecting something.
And then Bruce was leaning down between him and Damian and with a bright grin, he muttered, "I have a surprise for the both of you."
And even Dick, who had not stopped taking a stupid amount of pictures the entire time, paused to look at Bruce curiously.
"As I've told you both before," he said, looking over at Dick and back to Damian, "I know the real Santa. Met him a few times, saved Christmas with him a few others, and he owed me a favor for the last misadventure we had. So, I asked him to be here, for this one afternoon, for you guys."
Danny barely caught a glimpse of Dick rolling his eyes in the background. Oh, okay, so this was bullshit that has long been established. Nothing new on his account. That was something at least.
"Father," Damian interrupted with scorn and a promise of violence in his voice, "you are aware that this- Santa Claus creature- is fictitious, are you not?"
"Damian, chum," Bruce responded carefully, sincerely saddened, "why would you say that about an old family friend?"
And, poor Damian, looked two parts baffled and three parts murderous. Nonplussed and unable to even fathom a response to his father. He just stared the man down.
Dick huffed in exasperation behind them. "C'mon, B. Will you let that go already?"
Bruce furrowed his brows, eyes already taking on that faint sheen of kicked-puppiness, and looked back up at his eldest. "You don't believe me, Dickie? After all these years?"
Dick responded with a flat stare. Danny kind of wished he had popcorn for this moment. It was like witnessing a mild car crash. Nobody got hurt and it was still wicked to see parts flying everywhere. There was even a chance of things catching fire. Man was he glad he could just watch.
"Danny?" Bruce pleaded, turning to him with those sad, sad eyes. "Do you believe me, chum?"
And fuck how was he supposed to respond to that?
"I have it on good authority," he said, thinking of yearly fight, after fight, after fight, "that his existence is very hotly debated in the scientific community."
He could feel the questioning stares from Damian and Dick but he refused to look away from the innocently tilted head of his unfortunate foster father.
"Is that a yes?" and he sounded so sincerely hopeful. He couldn't crush the man's spirit. He couldn't.
But he also refused to lie and say he believed in Santa. At fifteen.
He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, but eventually replied. "It's a hotly debated topic."
And Bruce just smiled that empty smile and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, chum."
He, again, ignored Damian and Dick's stares. If he looked at them, he'd break. If he so much as made partial eye-contact, he was gonna fucking lose it.
"Oh look! We're almost at the front!"
Danny was living his worst life. Officially. This was the bad time-line. Dan's future didn't even come close. He was going to go mega evil any second now and kill everyone in the vicinity and then himself. This wasn't happening and it wasn't real and Santa Claus can't hurt him because he isn't real.
But Bruce, the saddest man in history, utterly and sincerely believed that he was.
So Danny was going to sit on some random old dude's lap and pretend to care about what he wanted for Christmas and whether or not he'd been a good boy this year and he was going to force a smile the entire time and his soul might shrivel up and die all the way inside, but at least Bruce would be happy.
What the fuck kind of afterlife was he living.
And then it was their turn and Danny was forced to go up first because the alternative was Damian committing homicide in the middle of the mall while Dick and Bruce cheerily took pictures.
Okay. Just sit down. Spit out answers to any inane questions. Pose for picture. And leave. Simple and easy and completely unbearable. But- for Bruce- he would bear it.
But, damn it all, a chill went down his spine as he approached.
No. Absolutely not.
There was no way. But he examined the man sitting in the chair and the more he saw the more the sinking pit in his stomach grew. Full thick beard of snow white hair. Brown eyes filled with smug mischief and magnanimity. Thick red velvet jacket made for trapping in heat in extreme cold weather, lined with white fur that looked suspiciously close to trim on cloaks he'd seen in the Far Frozen. A not-quite-ghostly-not-quite-magic-but-something-in-between aura he often got around Gods and Ancients.
Fuck, but Bruce actually knew the real bonafide Santa Fucking Claus.
What, and he means this with a great amount of emotion, the fuck.
He sat down in a stupor and the man just placidly smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye letting him know that he knew Danny was currently experiencing new stages of grief not yet known to man and was just gonna let him ride it out. How nice of him. Because of course he was being nice. He was Santa.
Fuck.
He looked up at the man. Ghost. God. Whatever. And for a good moment that's all either of them did. Just. Stared.
Sorry, Santa, Danny's brain has suddenly gone on vacation. 404 not found. Please leave a message after the tone. Error. Sorry, there's nothing there. Please try again.
After a few agonizing moments he asked, "how? Do you know Bruce?"
And Santa laughed at him, the sound working its way into his bones and filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. It tasted just a bit like egg nog. Gross.
"Well," the man started, voice deep and rich like a good cup of hot chocolate, (whatthefuckwhathtefuck). "Why wouldn't I know a man like Bruce? Honorable, righteous, and very skilled. One of the best the Justice League has, if I'm being honest."
And then Danny's brain stopped completely. Because there was no fucking way Santa (FUCK) was implying what he thought he was implying.
But it all made so much sense now. His ears were ringing suddenly and the world was greying out but he was Seeing the Light.
"-nny?" Santa (FUCK!!) was saying. "Are you alright? Want to tell me what you want for Christmas now?"
"Hm," he said airily, still not all the way there, "I'm good, thanks."
And then he slid off the man's lap and walked back to his foster family in a daze. And he looked at Bruce (BATMAN!! FUCK!!!) and he slid a slow hand down his face, attempting to take the skin off it in the process.
"You alright, Danny man?" Dick asked, only half paying attention while he gleefully snapped pictures of a sullen Damian barely restraining himself from committing violence while stubbornly standing next to Santa instead of sitting on his lap.
"That's the real Santa, Bruce is Batman, and I'm half-dead," he replied bluntly.
Dick fumbled his phone in response and Bruce merely raised his eyebrows.
"That's an odd start to a 'three guys walk into a bar' joke there, chum," he said amiably. And Danny wouldn't have noticed the tension in his voice if he weren't ghostly. But he was and unfortunately for them all, it was now everyone's problem.
"Not a joke," he said. "I'll explain the dead part later but Santa outed you on accident."
"Okay, no," Dick interrupted, "we are not leaving the dead part for later, Danny, what the fuck."
"Listen," he said flatly, slapping his hands on either side of Dick's face and smooshing it to convey his seriousness while he spoke. "Santa is real, he's a God, and he's sitting right there." He emphasized with a sweeping wave of his arm in the direction Damian was stomping back towards them from. "We're leaving the dead part for later."
"What is all this about? Dead part? What is going on?" Damian demanded in rapid succession, growing more aggressive and persistent with each question.
Danny, already on his last fucking nerve, was gonna lose it. For real.
"Apparently," Dick drawled, disbelief and an unfair amount of derision in his tone, "that's the real Santa, he told Danny B was Batman, and Danny's now saying he's dead."
"What-"
Damian did not get to finish his sentence because that was the exact moment Danny finally snapped. Every bit of pent up tension and hostility, every bit of restrained Holiday fueled fury he'd been bottling up. Unleashed all at once because Dick decided to be an asshole about not believing him.
Danny snatched one of the giant plastic candy canes that lined the aisle of the queue to see Mall (but actually Real) Santa and gave a good swing in Dick's direction. Dick who had unfairly good reflexes and was able to dodge by jumping over the swing and landing back neatly on his feat.
"Danny?!" he cried, incredulous.
But Danny was no longer listening. Only reveling in the wild swinging of the candy cane and attempting to land a hit on Dick for being an absolute dick and finally unleashing hell upon the world and specifically his asshole foster brother. And maybe he put a little bit more ghostly strength in his last swing than he meant to, because when he finally made contact- he heard a pained off as Dick went down hard.
"Danny, please," he wheezed from the soft bank of fake snow he'd fallen into, "it's Christmas."
He screeched and continued his assault. "It's December 10th!"
And then, promptly; Bruce wrangled the candy cane from Danny's grasp, Damian pulled Dick from the floor, and they were all calmly escorted from the mall and asked politely to never return.
Danny really, truly, hated Christmas. And it looked like that wasn't going to change any time soon.
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inkskinned · 7 months
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he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
#i used to think it was romantic too and then i was like. now i see it as a HUGE red flag#writeblr#it is also almost EXCLUSIVELY said by immature ppl who think this is normal#fyi even if u think it's funny and ur like 'im an introvert it's just TRUE' like. you need therapy (ily tho)#healed introversion is just ''i would prefer to be by myself'' not ''i hate every person'' ... hate is not normal. that is not healthy#im sorry. i know it feels accurate. but if you're walking around with that kind of rage....#1. you're making a LOT of assumptions about every single person u have ever met. which is often unfair and unkind#and also usually involves judging people based on their worst moments or little mistakes#2. you are being unfair to the person who is ur ''exception''#3. there is a VAST difference between ''ur my favorite person'' and ''the ONLY person i like.''#idk i think this is just a personal bias thing tbh#im sure there are people who have this experience normally#but i have YET to find a man who thinks like this and ISNT absolute DOGSHIT. although tbh.... like. im sure he exists#when u hit like 30 some of the things that were once kind of hot now just sound fucking exhausting. like ''im in a band''#edit in the tags: i used to kind of be like this too. but the thing is that like. my life became so much more peaceful#once i started believing that people are generally good. like yes i am mad at the world at large#but it's just.... a very hard way to live. you're not a bad person or wrong for the ways other people hurt you and taught you to be angry.#but that anger will continue to hurt YOU. it will punish YOU. it will prevent YOU from making new deep connections. it will protect you yes#but it will also cause MASSIVE blowback. bc if you lose the One Person... your life will fall apart. i know this personally.#i really recommend just trying to be... cautiously optimistic instead. like. yes#people can be horrible and cruel and there are some communities (incels for example) that aren't worth that optimism#but i think like... most people will hold a door for you . most people want to help you find your wallet .#i hope one day you are able to find peace. i hope that rage eventually smooths over. i know how hard it is PERSONALLY#and i know what must have happened to you. and im deeply deeply sorry we share the same wound.#but i promise - sometimes we all need someone else to help us carry the weight. eventually the rage has to die so that we can let help in#i had to spend years biting at outstretched hands. i still often do. im still very wary . and my heart breaks that you flinch too.#here's the thing: i don't blame you. but we were both acting out of fear and pain. .... not out of healthy behavior. and ... change#was needed. i needed change too. rage was useful for a while. then it just left me isolated and bitter. i had to (with effort)#choose to let that rage go. and let people in . VERY SLOWLY THO LOL
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sbeana · 1 year
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the pool scene
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sualne · 8 months
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some sketches
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castielsprostate · 6 months
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REBLOG TO EXPLODE A TERF!!
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spaceistheplaceart · 2 months
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anyone remember how branch can seamlessly adapt to different genres and also how he likes a ton of them. anyway.
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hello trolls fandom
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bastardlybonkers · 1 month
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feetman
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keydekyie · 4 months
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Go you funky little SecUnit! Go!
(One of my favorite scenes from the newest Murderbot novel: System Collapse)
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