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#and then he goes home
variousqueerthings · 10 months
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there a fic out there that takes radar's de-aging in a serious direction, and has it happen in a way that the other characters notice and worry about, but then someone (maybe sid) points out that this is just one way to get through the war -- some people freeze time, try to escape, pretend it's not really happening, moralise its necessity, fight it, some people age prematurely, and some people will get younger
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thuganomxcs · 2 years
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unprompted / always accepting / @glorytomankind​ : Me again cause I'm bored when is Yusuke gonna flex his Robot (NOT) Girlfriend.
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slaps android booty and gently nudges her forward in front of his group of friends, and parents, and toddler bitch. “People, 2B is my girlfriend now. That’s right, all of that is mine.”
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hypokeimena · 4 months
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i was just talking about this after being wrecked by the discovery that the little elf-goblin fellows my parents/family used to tell me warnings and stories about as a little kid are regionally specific, and that you can trace people's geographic origins by what word they use for "little spirit-fellows who live in your house". no matter what you call them (domovoi, kobolde, brownies, so on); for purposes of this post henceforth "little guys"
i think one of the things that i find frustrating about like, idk, modern animist revivalist movements is that very few of them ime spend a lot of time romanticising and spiritualizing human habitation. obviously, we as a culture need to think more about protecting and defending nature/the earth/so on, but like.
if you don't have room in your heart for making up a little guy who lives in the water heater, or who squats under your stove and makes it run 15 degrees off the programmed temperature, and thinking of him with the same kind of respect/affection as you do for the spirits (or whatever) of the wildlife you interact with like.
genuinely: what are you even doing. you are removing a source of richness and fun and whimsy from your life! like, pip @creekfiend made up the concept of "little guys who live in an airport (and are the reason it's so shitty to be in an airport)" and i already like airports like 30% more just knowing it's the little airport inconvenience guys doing that.
more importantly, like. genuinely: interrogate what parts of the world seem ~rich with spiritual meaning~ to you. what parts of the world are "wild"? what does that make the rest of the world - a chore? a burden? who has to carry that burden?
we're never going to like, "return to nature", because that's nothing and the concept of untouched nature is also nothing; we're always going to have some sort of human habitation and interaction and cultivation with nature. if you can't extend grace and whimsy and genuine and sincere meaning to human habitation, including its inconveniences and annoyances, you are making your own lived experience duller!
notably, most of these kinds of little-guy-spirits historically exist in the parts of human habitation that are partially abandoned, partially removed: haylofts, inside the walls, under the house, in the bathhouse, behind the furnace... i've been thinking a lot about urban wildlife lately, and the animals who make space for themselves in and around human habitation. the "natural" and the "wild" persist inside and around the edges of the "tame" and always, always have. if you have a crawlspace, there's a little spirit who lives there and he's the reason the dryer always eats your socks.
LIVE WHIMSICALLY.
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cutepotatook · 11 months
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Today I made apple cinnamon pie and strawberry juice! And you know what? I think he doesn't care where the apples are!! He's just enjoying himself bwhaha
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bluerosefox · 2 months
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Drake Siblings
Have I read this prompt somewhere or was this a fever dream from my bored mind.
What if, now hear me out.
What if we bring up Dana Winters-Drake (whose confirmed to at least be alive in the DC verse but no one knows where she actually is)
What if instead of when she had a mental breakdown and getting committed to an Bludhaven clinc she wandered away before anyone noticed and by the time Tim or anyone did notice a lot of stuff started happening at once in both Gotham and Bludhaven (Steph dying, The Bludhaven crisis, etc etc)
Tim still tries to find her though but even with best resources it was like she just disappeared into the wilderness and the stress of trying to handle more and more problems get worse.
So when out of the blue, a couple of years later, he gets a call from an unknown number. On his private, only for friends and family, phone and when he answers he meet with a young girls voice on the other end.
A very young, maybe six or seven, girl who informs him about his apparently half-brother Danny Drake-Fenton. And how she loves Danny so, so, so much but knows her home is dangerous for him to be in.
Tim is stunned and before he could question her, she says Danny is Dana and Jack's baby and that her parents had adopted him years ago and put Dana's stuff that the hospital had away for him to look at when he was older but she just had to fight off their lunch from eating her brother and she knows he needs a better place to live and so she snooped around and found Dana's diary and that she had to unscramble the nonsense Dana wrote and found Tim's number with the words 'tell him about his brother Danny' hidden in it. And-
But before she could keep rambling she hears Danny screaming "JAZZY THE MILK WENT BAD AGAIN AND HISSED AT ME!"
Tim is left with silence after hearing Jazz yell to Danny to lock the fridge and step out of the kitchen as she gets the bat.
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egophiliac · 4 months
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CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS
there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head
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I don't know why I decided to draw it this way
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#(these will be relevant in a moment)#this isn't going to happen. but WHAT IF.#anyway i didn't get him (damnit birdman come home) so i had to look up his story#and let me tell you friends my findings were SHOCKING#crowley canonically likes vegetables which means that the crowley is revaan theory = BUSTED#crowley is sailor venus = CONFIRMED#(i know 'whip of love' is a saying but that's where my mind always goes)#DISCLAIMER: this is (mostly) a joke please continue to hold whatever theories and headcanons you want#but look. c'mon. look over here at this whiteboard i've covered in red yarn.#revaan being a picky eater has come up multiple times and there is an entire whole bit about how much he hated jerky and refused to eat it#and now they've made a point of talking about how crowley will eat almost anything and loOoOoves wild game meat especially#it's SO stupid but i can't help but read way too much into it#(this is tumblr if you don't want to see incredibly stupid overanalysis of anime guys then why are you HERE)#and i gotta hold on to something because otherwise whenever malleus and crowley are onscreen together i just keep going 'same hair color...#unless this is like. some kind of deep cover thing.#lilia doesn't recognize him because he saw him eat a green bean once and revaan would NEVER#crowley's secret is safe for another day#(serious hat on: i do think they're probably connected in some way)#(but there's something deeper going on that we're just not clued into yet that will hopefully explain things)#man forget revaan what if crowley whips off his mask and it turns out he was meleanor this whole time#wait hold on meleanor loves jerky. IT ALL FITS...
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i have a Scene - a Plot if you will - that backs this as context. y'all are gonna have to trust me on this one <3 or read the tags...
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#the song is 'in your eyes' by peter gabriel#boombox serenade lets GO!!!#in my mind immediately after this the others came over to say hi (or in sallys case tell him off)#and at first howdy's like 'oh ofc wallys there that makes sense. sally too? strange but alright'#then eddie appears and ohhhh boy its Jealousy Central Babey and howdy's train just pulled into the station#scribble salad#laughingstock#welcome home#barnaby x howdy#howdy x barnaby#OK CONTEXT I PROMISED CONTEXT#so in my mind howdy is an oblivious dumbass when it comes to his own romantic feelings.#he's so in love with barnaby (its very obvious) but Doesnt Realize It. despite being a god tier flirty fruity motherfucker#so when barnaby - thinking theyre on the same page - confesses#howdy's all like 'ohhh um. gee barn im flattered truly but - i just dont like you like that'#yk breaking barnaby's heart right down the middle#so barnaby shuts himself in his home and wally is hovering. yk Worried#and eddie - who's been helping barnaby come to terms w/ his own feelings & gauge if howdy feels the same - asks sally to check in for him#& sally goes over and Immediately involves herself. she takes personal offense on barnaby's behalf#also she lives for the drama and wants every juice detail Hot Off The Press#so while howdy is having a lil crisis as he slowly realizes Oh My Fucking God I DO Love Barnaby Like That-#barnaby / sally / wally / (eventually) eddie are all having a sleepover where they just play card games and chat#a good ol bitch n' stitch night#and howdy shows up to try and talk to barns (obvs in my head he doesnt have a boombox he just Knocks)#only to get RE-RE-RE-REJECTEDDDDDD!!!! thats how it feels you wormy mf!#bc barnaby is a) having a girls night & b) needs to emotionally prepare for That conversation#aaaaand THATS the context <3
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esper-eclipse · 4 months
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note to self: check surroundings for danger
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faeriekit · 2 months
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The Foster Mother
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Now on ao3 and VHS release
There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.
“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.
“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”
…Alright.
Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.
Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.
And then Tim walked into the room.
And then Jazzy was there.
*
Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.
She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.
She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.
Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.
(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)
Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.
The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.
She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.
Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.
She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.
Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.
She looked up when he came in.
Tim. Stopped in his tracks.
It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.
“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.
She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!
“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“
“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.
Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.
(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)
She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.
He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.
“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”
Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.
“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”
Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”
Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?
“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”
Which. Whiplash. What a statement.
“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.
Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”
“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”
“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”
Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.
Jazzy waited patiently.
“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.
Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”
It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—
—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.
She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.
“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.
He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.
Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.
It was for the best.
“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”
…Tim’s heart skipped.
He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…
Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?
And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!
“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”
She handed him the backpack by the handle.
…Tim peeked inside.
On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.
And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.
Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.
Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.
It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.
Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.
Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.
“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“
“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.
“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”
Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.
“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!
“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”
Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.
And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.
Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.
He swallowed.
Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.
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somegrumpynerd · 1 month
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Some doodles from the freaky friday idea I had, as it turns out neither of them can do a convincing impression of the other
Also this
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turtleblogatlast · 2 months
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Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water
Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#bless their hearts but they’re nasty#it’s funny because like#each and every one of them has moments#where they’re a typical disgusting teenage boy#and then the next they have STANDARDS#can’t blame Leo for being so determined to go to a spa#even if he nearly licked his own foot that’s prob cleaner than anything else the boys have been up to in years 💀#thank you shelldon for all your hard work cleaning after then 🙏#they’re all gross teenage boys!!!#even Donnie he is NO exception here#bro was DRINKING A BEVERAGE while wading through sewer water he is just as gross as his bros#bro also talks with his mouth full he is no more refined than his equally gross bros fr and I love it#but yeah no way that water isn’t disgusting even filtering it would still leave grime on the walls of the sewer for yearsss#pros of them moving into an abandoned subway system is fixing their sense of smell enough to not be as gross#100% that’s part of why they didn’t mind being so filthy pre shelldon#because I mean they were literally raised in the sewers and they’re teenage boys like that’s a double whammy#THEY ALSO DONT WEAR SHOES#the few times any of them do the shoes are discarded before heading home 💀#I love them tho they are endearing anyhow#April’s immune system must be godlike just being around them fr#honestly no joke Mikey’s probably the cleanest of them all#just by virtue of being a chef#Leo I see as a mixture since he no doubt loves to pamper himself so he’s clean like#a percentage of time before he goes out and ruins his own hard work#Donnie is similar in that he’s just VERY SELECTIVE about what he thinks is too gross#Raph may be more on the stinky end but it’s not his fault he has his stinks and eats things of dubious origin(esp since his bros ate poison)#Donnie and Leo really have the gall to be sick about Raph eating the origami salami but they have no room to talk#all their villains are prob like please stay away from us we have salmonella now
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months
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Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.
#Fear and Hunger#D'arce Cataliss#Cahara#Ragnvaldr#Enki Ankarian#Unlike Dungeon Meshi - I cannot in good faith recommend this game to a broad audience.#My background with F&H goes as follows: I am hanging out with a friend. He says “hey try this game I've been playing.” I say “Okay!”#I have never heard of this game. I pick the mercenary. I go through 5 min of character history and background. I am mauled to death by dogs#It took me 4 resets to even get in the dungeon. But I finally get there. I am caught by a guard. He cuts off all but one of my limbs#I am forced to crawl around in a blood and corpse pit until the game tells me 'give up idiot'.#I reset. I am mauled by dogs again. I realize this is not for me but I am intrigued enough to go home and watch some playthroughs#And WOW what an interesting game it is! I really do appreciate games that blend their design philosophy with the theme it wants to set#This is a game about fear and hunger. And persevering. And penis (my god is there a lot of penis)#I recommend this to people who like extremely challenging games and can handle the many *content warnings* within this series#If the idea of Bloodborne/eldenring and undertale having a little RPG maker baby sounds appealing to you - give it a shot#It's made by ONE GUY and it's a great horror game. I am just really bad at it.#My friends just enjoy putting me in situations where I scream and yell. We don't talk about the corn mazes. Or the other horror game nights#Apparently I'm funny when I'm Scared!#As people who follow me on twitter might know; I am deep in the pits of this series right now. I will be back with more art.
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eugeniedanglars · 1 year
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the way i see it, colin has three options for handling the repercussions of kissing michael on the pitch in front of everyone:
gatekeep: by some miracle no one caught the kiss on camera so colin's sexuality is kept between him and any fans who happened to be on the pitch near him. the safest option.
girlboss: keeley gets the pr challenge of a lifetime handling the story of the first active premier league player to come out as gay. rebecca is tall and powerful and intimidating in the press room making it clear that richmond stands behind colin one thousand percent. the most realistic option.
gaslight: straight-up blatantly lying. not because he's ashamed or because he thinks he can actually convince anyone that the kiss didn't happen, but just because he refuses to let it be a big deal. acts like he has no idea what anyone is talking about if asked anything related to his sexuality. he doesn't claim to be straight, mind you, he just pretends to be extremely confused about why they're asking because he never kissed anyone in the middle of a football pitch at the end of an internationally-televised game? when presented with photo and video proof of the kiss he says that was some other richmond player named hughes who wears a number 12 jersey. you don't know him, he goes to another school. the funniest option.
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clownsuu · 1 year
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I am in love with how you draw the sillies. And the way you draw Howdy is just... good lord I love him. He's so bodacious. I'm hopping aboard the Wally and Howdy express cuz I never considered how cute that would be. Thank you for the good meal 🙏🏽
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The fuggin height differences gets me every time lmAOOO
very glad you guys enjoy my dum lil content, I literally just draw the first thing that pops into my lil pea sized brain smhhh
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Eddie and Howdy are certified Himbos nobody can convince me otherwise-
also take some doodles I never really felt like posting JHDGFDHDHD
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houseswife · 6 months
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bro can you imagine being tritter. you’re a power hungry cop who just wants to get revenge on the asshole doctor who humiliated you, so you approach his prescribing physician saying “here’s cold hard proof that he committed several crimes and endangered your career”. and instead of testifying against him in light of this information he’s like nooo he didn’t do anything wrong!! it was my fault actually that he committed felonies without my knowledge!! don’t take him away!! send me to prison instead!!! like. what do you even do with that
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bluerosefox · 8 months
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Joker Messed Around and Found Freaking Out.
Okay hear me out..
Class trip to Gotham, class gets held up by Joker who actually can scare the class cause they are still teens and they know Joker has a high kill rate, like yes they're used to ghosts and junk but none of them wanna die yet or at least die outside of Amity, if they die they wanna have a chance of coming back as a ghost at the very least.
Anyways, Danny feels pure dread when Joker takes Jazz hostage, who was elected to be a chaperone for Danny's class since her volunteering would look good on college recommendations, and finds her little mutters about his mental health reminding him of Harley before she left him. He even jokes about needing a new partner and wonders how long it'll take to break her like he did to Harley.
Danny is frozen in his spot but something snaps when he hears Jazz cry out after Joker backhands her. Before anyone, even the Bats, realize it Danny is on top of the Joker beating his face in, he only gets up once, takes Joker's discarded crowbar and slams it over his head, barely grazing the dazed man but it does destroy the flooring behind him, while screaming to never ever touch his sister. That he will destroy Joker if he even thinks about coming after her. That even in the afterlife he'll never be safe from him.
All this happens so fast that by the time the Jocks from Danny's school, Red Hood and Nightwing get Danny off, Joker is beaten badly. He's still feral screaming at Joker though, calling him everything under the sun, spouting off about how the dead are ready to rip him apart when Joker (or you can have Danny call him by his actual name if you wanna strike some "the fuck? How'd he know that?") Finally passes away, that even death will not save him from Danny's wrath. Danny is squirming hard in their holds, nearly breaks free a few times when he hears Joker groaning, but only stops when Jazz, after getting looked over by Red Robin comes running over and just..
Hugs Danny.
And like a kitten getting scuffed by the neck he goes limp. Just breathes heavily, eyes burning from anger, fear, tears, and relief, before he returns the hug. He starts crying and mutters low that he can't lose her, that he almost lost her again and "is this even a fraction how Dan felt when he lost you?"
And Jazz just shushes him and does what she can to comfort him...
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