At home in the shadows. Forgotten dreams.

Solas: Dragon age

Ink on paper

i tuink i bgoing tk pass out

snoopy in the reverse bear trap <3

Listen, you should never film strangers in public without their consent, but I swear there need to be fines or something for people who do that shit in some spaces. For example: I had to go to the ER last night, and some jerk filmed a woman who just came in and was clearly having an asthma attack. She immediately got to go back, and he was unhappy about that. Believe me, I get that it sucks having to wait when you're in pain, but you don't get to pick who deserves care when. The medical system in the US is a nightmare, and the ER could be the worst moment of someone's life. No one deserves to be recorded because some jack ass believes someone doesn't look like they need care.

This is fine to reblog. People who film strangers should be shamed if nothing else.

I would no longer like to perceive Sunwoo thank you

Happy Thistle Debut Day!

I hear the piteous rworwl and I turn and I See Him

and now I must spread his image for others to see lest he fucking GET me

Comic about something that happened in 2019

@demolisherspork on tiktok soo talented

A bitter reminder 🥀

FNAF game Vanessa is starting to control Glitchtrap,,

Dick gets his drink mixed up with another persons in the library while visiting Barbara.

He was drinking some kale smoothie thing, for health and stuff, and he set it down to grab a book from the shelf. There was another guy next to him, who also had a smoothie in the same kind of shake-n-go bottle.

They swapped by accident.

Dick checked out his book, said goodbye to Barbara, and took a sip of his smoothie.

That's the last thing he remembers.

He wakes up two days later pinned down by a practically feral Jason, who's eyes are glowing a sickly Lazarus green, with Bruce, Tim, Cass, and Duke all showing signs of losing a fight. He's sore everywhere, and Damian is nowhere to be seen.

"Uh...." his voice cracks, and he's suddenly aware of how fucking painful his throat is. "Hi? What's going on?"

"...Is it really you, Dickwing? I swear to God if it isn't and this is another-"

"Jay I really don't know what's going on, man."

Jason doesn't believe him. Dick is cuffed with anti-meta cuffs and escorted to the cave, where Bruce demands test after test and Dick tells them the last thing he remembers.

Apparently, after taking that sip, his eyes had turned to Lazarus green, and he had beelined for the mansion. Along the way there, he had run into the Riddler.

He had broken most of the Riddler's bones.

That was when everyone had been called in to subdue Dick, who for some strange reason kept gunning for Damian. Hence, Damian was upstairs and not allowed down until they were sure Dick was okay again.

It's concluded that Dick drank some alternate form of Lazarus Water, lost his mind, proceeded to take everyone out with enhanced strength and speed except Jason, who had entered a Pit episode just to keep up, and worked through it two days after consumption.

But who the fuck transported a material as dangerous as modified Lazarus Water in a fucking shake-n-go bottle?

Danny, however, is a little sad that his ecto-shake was stolen by some rando at the library.

Their kale smoothie was pretty good though.

i, uh, fucking-

*touches the trident*

-🪶

...?

me? redrawing my old shit?? its more likely than u think

it’s very easy to tell the good satires and pastiches from the bad ones because the bad ones are too afraid to live within the form. like if you are doing work with fairy tales and you are refusing to look closer at the underlying logic and unspoken rules of what can seem at first to be a senseless form, you are not going to create meaningful work. to borrow a turn of phrase originally used by maria tatar, if you refuse to enter “the house of fairy tale” as anything more than a gawking tourist, you will miss the particular order to the way the table is set, the rooms that are locked vs the rooms that are simply difficult to enter, the set of the floorboards and the position of the furniture. whatever you build will then be a gilded imitation of how you believe the house of fairy tale ought to look, the table set according to your educated specifications and every door open. there can be no interrogation of themes from a writer who views the form as beneath them!

crown swap