#so in the not-so-distant future

[fr-remixphoenix]

some of my old dragon busts that i apparently never posted onto my original old fr tumblr back in the day!

(dragons in order are laika (my custom progen!), cheyenne, maya, my sanguine from the elder scrolls fan dragon, and pine)

[ghostatrandom]

At last! An excuse to show my Serena timeskip design!

She's very classy and the Kalos champion, lives in Santalune city with Calem and loves a good coffee milk with macarons

Pokemon wont ever do timeskip designs for protags ever again so I will and they cannot stop my adhd riddled mind!

[starry-bi-sky]

im being hit with The Visions again

the Vision this time is a "homeless danny in gotham" au except its pre-robin Batman again because im on a batdad kick. --------------------

Danny finds a car.

Which-- isn't, like, anything super interesting or impressive. It's Gotham, it's a big city. There's cars on every corner, can't throw a stick without hitting one somewhere. And then setting off the alarm.

But-! It's a car, and it's past midnight-- or he thinks it might be past midnight, it's late enough to be. He doesn't have a watch and he left his phone at Vlad's; asshole put a tracker on it after the last time Danny ran off.

It's been over a month since, it's a new record -- last time it took just over two weeks for Vlad to find him and drag him back to the mansion. This time, Danny ran further. Left the state and everything. See how long it takes Vlad to find him now, hah.

People go missing all the time in Gotham.

Anyways-- there's a car, and it's midnight, and it's parked in an alleyway. Danny would've called it invisible with the way he pretty much trips over it, phasing through the wall of the building beside it and not watching where he's going, but it's not. So he doesn't.

Danny runs into the hood and nearly faceplants right into the darn thing with an 'oomph', hands catching himself on the metal as a flash of irritation flashes hot through his gut. It doesn't hurt or anything, but getting the wind knocked out of you sucks always, and he's tired and hungry, and as a result not in the best state of mind.

He's just about to sink his foot into the side of the wheel -- it wouldn't do anything, he's not that big of an asshole, but it's the principle -- when he stops.

Danny pauses.

He takes a step back, holding his hands out 'n' everything, and examines the car. He squints, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, considering the closest streetlight is twenty feet that way and positioned in a way that none of the light is hitting it.

Danny would not call himself a car guy. He doesn't think he counts, considering his size and lack of everything. But, but, he knows his way around a few cars, and he had an old obsession with older models when he was little that kinda petered out of existence after his accident. Had a bunch of little car models sitting on one of his shelves back in Amity, and Dad offered to get his hands on an old car for the two of them to fix up together so it'd be ready for Danny when he got his license.

...Anyways.

Point is: Danny can appreciate an old car, and this car has an older -- albeit obviously modified, if the matte paneling and plated wheels meant anything -- look to it. That kind of flat top went out of style years ago, and it's got this kinda rectangular look Danny doesn't see often these days on modern cars.

Other than the electrical cars, but he doesn't think those count. That's boxy, not rectangular.

Danny frowns, tilts his hands down, and leans back further as if that will let him get a better look at this thing. "...What model is this?" He mutters, it's hard to tell in this lighting.

Wait, he should see if there's anyone in the car. It's not running or anything, and nobody's come out to yell at him -- or shoot him -- but, still. People are crazy in Gotham, crazier than they've ever been in Amity. The last thing he needs to do is piss off some guy from the mob.

Danny peers into the window and-- there's no window, okay. Well, no window, and no driver. Some idiot left their car unprotected and without windows, in Gotham?

He pulls on the door handle just to be annoying -- it doesn't budge. Okay, maybe not that stupid. Especially since Danny didn't even see it until he was quite literally running into it.

So. Not that stupid.

Danny looks around warily, pulling his hoodie around him tighter, and then starts circling the car slowly. Like a vulture. No license plate; shocker. Hear how shocked he is? Clutching his pearls right now.

"Reinforced bumper. Cool." he says, er- whispers, really, quiet enough that it doesn't even echo. Danny squats in front of the car and runs his hands over the -- what, should he even call this a bumper? It's bigger than his head, and it's covering the grille. He picks at these... things on the side that remind him of leather straps. Probably to keep this bumper up? Like a ratchet strap?

Danny leans back until his butt hits the ground and he can sit back properly, propping himself up on his hands -- maybe not a good idea. There's probably broken glass somewhere here and he doesn't wanna pick shards out of his palms, again. It's like popping the world's most annoying zit depending on if it gets under the skin.

(He could always just phase them out, but the picking gives him something to do. It doesn't hurt that much.)

Eh. It'll be fine.

With one knee propped up, Danny looks the front up and down, and furrows his brows. The style kinda reminds him of a dodger, especially with the placement and style of the headlights. He plants his hands on the concrete -- hissing when he feels something cut into his palms, ow, there's that glass he was talking about -- and leans down to look under the car.

Hm, nothing jutting out that much. Looks pretty normal. Good space between the bottom and the ground.

He gets up and circles the side again, brushing whatever pebbles or glass that could've stuck into his skin off. He's really curious about where the owner got matte plating for it, or if it's just a wrap. The silhouette's definitely sixties or seventies; too angular for the eighties and fifties.

...There's no one here, Danny looks around again just to make sure, cranes his ears to catch anything. Nope, just the typical quiet rumbling of Gotham's underbelly. It kinda reminds him of Amity, or-- no. No, it reminds him of the quiet groan of the Zone.

That's far more comforting, he thinks. Danny's never really liked Amity all that much.

Back to the car: there's no one around, so Danny folds his arms against the side of the door and sticks his head inside the window. No keys in the ignition, should've figured.

Not like Danny was planning on stealing the car anyways -- anyone capable of modifying a car into this kinda beast -- or paying someone to modify -- was not someone he wanted to piss off. Danny's an orphan, not stupid.

Ignore the fact that he's got his head stuck through the window. The interior isn't anything interesting, but the seats are made of leather, which is nice. Must be a pain in the summer or winter, but leather is cool, and gets stains out better than cloth.

No stick shift though, he's a little disappointed.

Danny presses his mouth into a line and then slants it, humming in the back of his throat. Honestly, he's kinda tempted to crawl in and go to sleep. The leather seats look really inviting, and he's been sleeping on the ground or on park benches for weeks, and the car is really well hidden. No need to worry about being kidnapped.

But, it still belongs to someone. And they're probably using it for something shady. They'll come back for it eventually, so he should get this gawking over with anyways.

And, and-- and. He wants to get a look at that fucking engine. 'Cause holy shit!

Danny pulls his head out of the window and half-dances over to the back, his hand curling around one of the bars as a grin spreads across his face. Now, Danny hates Christmas, but this, this is like it came early and good for once.

"You could smuggle moonshine with this thing," Danny says to himself, grinning ear to ear and running his hands over the edge of the metal. The car is too conspicuous for backroads driving, but the engine, wow. What a thing of beauty.

One of Auntie's friends would probably know what engine it is -- or what type of engine it's based off of, it could very well be a bunch of different engines frankenstein'd together. Danny doesn't recognize it.

Which means it could be illegal. Again, what a shocker. In Gotham? He's clutching his pearls.

Fully satisfied with himself, Danny dances around to the front again and holds his hands out. He makes an 'L' with both hands and shuts one eye, getting the car within the frame of his fingers like he's about to take a picture.

"I rate you," Danny makes a camera shutter sound and mimics taking a photo, "one cool fuckin' car."

"Thank you."

Danny doesn't scream. He does not. He's taught himself better since ghosts started popping up in Amity, and honestly he deserves some credit for that considering they only started popping up over half a year ago.

He does, however, gasp. And he gasps hard, the type that has a high chance of giving you the hiccups afterwards; the painful, chest-thumping kind. Danny slams both hands over his mouth and stumbles backwards, eyes wide and his heart kicking into the fifth gear in his ears.

Bleeding out from the shadows is a man entirely drenched in black, Danny can hardly make out his silhouette and barely catches the white glints of his eyes. Fear like a prey animal burns in his lungs, wild and rabid, Danny has half a mind to bolt.

His ghost sense didn't go off, which might just be the most terrifying thing.

The man doesn't move any more than a step, just enough that Danny can barely see him, but he can feel him watching him. Shit. Shit. He should've never stuck around.

His hands are still over his mouth, Danny, shaking, flutters them open, "How-- h-- how--" he wheezes, "how long have you been standing there?"

[wordsofasarcast]

headcanon

So you know how it's canon that Will listens to true crime podcasts?

What if that's how he finds out that Nico is from the 1940s?!

Like he's listening to the latest episode about 'the death of Maria di Angelo and the disappearance and supposed kidnapping of her missing children, Niccolò and Bianca di Angelo'.

And it's not all that strange for demigods to pop up in conspiracy blogs or podcasts - Percy had a four part series about him, and Will listened to the whole thing during a nightshift at the infirmary.

So yeah, Will starts listening to the di Angelo episode thinking nothing of it, maybe he's just hoping to have a laugh about what the mortals thought happened to Nico or maybe he's more than a little curious about Nico's mysterious past.

And the hosts, in crackling stereo voices because they desperately need a better mic, are talking about lightning striking the hotel, how "the storm popped up out of nowhere" and the "strange seismic activity reported in the area at the time"...and then the date drops...

The hosts say something along the lines of, "The di Angelo siblings were reported missing by their family back in Italy after no word had been received of their safe passage to America. The police report states they were last seen by an anonymous witness entering the Lotus Hotel & Casino with an unknown third party in December of 1942."

And Will's just sat there, gaping at the infirmary bed he'd been stripping of its sheets. Because everything is adding up now, and Will's not quite sure how he missed it...

[phantompasta]

more If you find a vigilante in a dumpster by @lunamugetsu art because I do not feel normal rn

The lady on the left is Lady Gotham btw that's kinda how I picture her until the author describes her current appearance

Lady gotham-less art after the cut in case she wasn't the evil mastermind behind that last chapter ending + a meme

Also, for so you can see Danny's drawings in the background

[sameboot]

Amena and her surprise bonus 3rd mom

[brokenrefraction]

some sort of more fucked up version of subtrip

[bluemantics]

Lance McClain usually loved being Chat Noir. While he claimed he did it for the glory—thank you, press—many of the actual accolades were reserved for his partner, Ladybug.

He was the real reason Lance giddily transformed every night, jumping out of his university dorm window with bright blue eyes and adrenaline. Brooding, goal-oriented, wildly talented Ladybug seemed to have a permanent hold on his heart, even when the man in question was angry with Lance. 

Case in point: today’s patrol. It was a dark, low-lit fall night in Paris, with crisp air masking the normal city smells. Overhead, a few stars could be seen beyond the haze of light pollution. They winked down over the chaotic scene Lance had unfortunately been blamed for.

“How did you miss the giant stuffed bear?” Ladybug yelled at Lance, slinging his yo-yo and flying across the rooftops. Lance, wearing his signature black cat outfit and mask, let out a huff as he chased after his partner. 

“He must have been behind me, I swear. Parisian streets are super narrow, man; it’s insanely hard to patrol.” He sent a pleading look to Bug, complete with a pout stretching his lips.

Ladybug glared in return, but Lance took a second to admire his muscles flexing under his red spandex uniform as they hopped over buildings. “No more excuses. Let’s just fight this guy.” God, even when he was a complete dick, Ladybug was hot. Maybe it was the meanness that Lance was attracted to? He should probably talk to a therapist. 

“On it, Bugaboo!” 

“Don’t call me that!” 

Lance didn’t listen, already extending his baton to a staff so he could launch directly into the fray. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to take down a massive teddy bear. They had this in the bag. With his sharp, catlike reflexes, Lance swept his staff toward the top of the bear’s fluffy head and cracked down. Instantly, the bear’s springy exterior cushioned the blow and whipped the force right back.

“Uh oh,” Lance muttered, recalling his physics classes on how every force has an equal opposite reac–

He went flying. 

“Chat!” Ladybug’s cry rang out as he desperately landed in a roll on the roof of a grocer's, tumbling gracelessly to a stop. “Are you alright?” Lance stuck a thumbs up in the air.

“All good, but we probably can’t hit this guy,” Lance groaned, pulling himself into a crouch and rubbing his sore tailbone. Ladybug’s attention snapped back to their enemy, his gaze calculating. The sight stirred a little flutter in Lance’s chest. In his opinion, the most attractive thing about Ladybug wasn’t anything the news tended to debate over. Sure, his dark hair was thick and shiny. Yes, his rippling biceps were anything but ugly. However, the real thing that made Lance fall for him was this: how naturally he fit into battle, using his sharp instincts to act on the fly. 

Sometimes it was reckless. Most times, it was beautiful. Tonight was no different, as Ladybug quickly deduced a hidden detail on the bear’s paw and got to work. He sent Lance to sneak under its foot while it lifted to take a step, using himself as a distraction while Lance broke the sound box at its seam with Cataclysm. That process alone took a solid five minutes as the bear kept nearly crushing Lance with its thudding footsteps, Ladybug taunting it from above.

Finally, as he broke the box, a blackened butterfly zipped out and zipped into the air. Ladybug was right in place, waiting for his opportunity to catch it securely in his yo-yo. Lance clambered up next to his partner and watched him complete their post-battle ritual.

“Bye-bye, butterfly.” Lance grinned and waved as the newly purified butterfly floated off on a gentle breeze. 

As Ladybug’s magic reset the city, Lance tried to ignore his miraculous beeping. “So, are you ever going to reveal your identity? I purr-omise to keep it a secret, hot stuff.” Satisfaction filled him as Ladybug’s pale cheeks dusted red below his mask.

“No. That would obviously compromise our safety if we got caught,” Ladybug said (again). 

“A shame,” Lance sighed, leaning on his staff and cocking his head. “We would make a meow-velous pair, Bugaboo. Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not about that, Chat, and you know it,” Ladybug replied shortly. He prepped his yo-yo to leave, much to Lance’s disappointment, twirling it in his hands as he prepared for takeoff. “Also, your puns are shit.” With that, he zipped away, leaving Lance alone on the roof. 

“Ugh,” Lance groaned at Ladybug’s retreating silhouette, his head rolling to the side. Suddenly, a bright sign caught his eye. “Eau de Kogane– oh hell no!” 

Looming above him was a billboard for famous model Keith Kogane’s new signature fragrance. Keith’s flawless face was tossed back in a neutral expression while his hands were positioned elegantly around his neck. Soft white light haloed his curved pose, making Lance stick out his tongue.

In addition to being an internationally famous model, Keith also happened to be Lance’s classmate, whom he hated. Despite consistently missing classes in their program, he managed to eke out incredible grades and end up at the top of their year without even trying. The guy had a magic touch.

He was Lance’s sworn rival.

Lance’s brow wrinkled as he stared up at the advertisement. He’d much rather it be Ladybug’s handsome face saying farewell as he closed out his night of heroism, not Keith Kogane’s ugly mug. “Bye, bitch-ass.”

With a sudden leap and a run, Chat Noir returned to the shadows of the night.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

CONFIRMED: MK6 ON OCT 17!!

me rn, a moodboard:

[dragonselkie]

// yingdu spoilers

I can’t with how touchy cxs is with lg and how tINY lg is this season ok there’s so much angst and plot to focus on but at the same time cxs is ruffling lg’s hair and lg is ducking under his arm and going “don’t touch my hair!!” and cxs is laughing and putting his arm around him and lg is looking uP at him and my shiguang wired brain cannot handle this they are so cute

[smilepebble]

DIE, CHILD, DIE_

[echoes-of-courage]

👉👈 🥺 Hiiiiii I know I haven't really interacted with other links meet aus before but I really wanted to do something for @linked-maze. I'm pretty sure Artisan's design was partially influenced by their World, but aaaa all your designs are so skrunkly :))

this was labeled braid buddies in my folder

ignore the stupid dialogue, I couldn't come up with anything more coherent

[infizero]

neo metal means a lot to me bcuz i think there's something very compelling (transgender) about metal saying fuck you to his dad and gaining autonomy over his own life and wearing a gay little black skirt and spiked belt and also ego tripping and declaring himself to be god

[goldensunset]

life in hisui has to be so incredibly bizarre for the protagonist if you choose to imagine them as being from modern sinnoh without amnesia. for all the usual reasons but also because like. to them ‘sinnoh’ is just the name of the region they live in but everyone else here keeps referring to this ‘almighty sinnoh’ being that they worship. maybe this is just me as an american but. if i stumbled upon a place where a bunch of people praised ‘the great god america’ i would assume them to be a freakishly patriotic nationalistic cult and nope out of there so fast. like imagine how that would sound without context

[ecto-stone]

idk i want to try my hand a bit at designing a post AGIT Human Dan.

[cellophane-wasps]

Lorde is taking it I fear. The three singles are all like the perfect fusion of pure heroine, melodrama, and solar power. A lot of the production on hammer reminds me of pure heroine. What was that is VERY melodrama. And man of the year starts out very solar power, and then the weird synth breakdown happens and it's not really like anything she's ever made. Maybe a bit like melodrama. Like hard feelings, homemade dynamite and sober ii... But not really.

I'm very excited for this album, and I really hope people don't sleep on it like they did solar power. It irks me that everyone is now pretending they were solar power fans. I remember being in the trenches defending mood ring being satire, naming oceanic feeling as one of her best songs, etc.

I feel like 2025 has largely been released from some of the most important artists in my life. From Ethel, to Gaga, to Miley and Yeule, to Marina, now Lorde and Kesha. Slayyyter will most likely drop this year. All I need is album announcements from Rina, Nicole Dollanganger, Courtney Love and Janelle Monae and my life will be complete. I'd say Grimes and Lana but it's kinda hard to enjoy them given current circumstances. Nonetheless, 2024 and 2025 have been insane years for music.