#Just Like Grandma

[adjusted-karma]

Just Like Grandma Posepack (Patreon DL | SFS DL)

I was inspired by @ice-creamforbreakfast's Summer in the 60's set and made some poses referencing images from this article about 60's fashion trends 🧡

7 Solo poses, place teleporter anywhere.

Also available as CAS Poses for the Loyal or Dance Machine trait (make sure you don't have other CAS poses for those traits!) Download No Mirroring in CAS Mod HERE

Tag me on twitter/tumblr if you use them!

TOU

Don't edit my poses

Don't claim as your own work

Don't reupload/put behind a paywall

[aintmyjewelry]

we need to bring back inviting people over for cake and coffee. my grandma used to do that all the time and I think it's a lost art

[suiheisen]

j… jesus oppa ;____;

[lunamugetsu]

Delivery!

Flash was currently being held captive in a black of ice. How he got like this he wasn't sure. All he remembered was that he was running across Central City keeping the peace until suddenly an ice beam shot out of nowhere and froze his feat to the ground.... and the rest of him.

"Alright you got me! Show your face!"

"Well I was going to regardless. No need to yell." Out pops Danny Phantom carrying a bag with him and holding out an envelope.

"What? Who are you?"

"My name's Phantom. Danny Phantom. I have a message for you. I couldn't get your attention earlier so I thought this was just the next best way to get you to stop." Danny said as he unfreezes the speedster.

"Uh, okay." Flash said as Danny gives him an envelope.

On the envelope there are drawing in crayon and stickers and in marker it says: to Flash.

"It's from Susie, she'd said you'd remember her."

He remembered a Susie, a little girl that he used to see in the children's hospital. She had leukemia. He spent any minute he could making sure the kid was smiling when he was there. He was heartbroken when the nurses told him that she had passed away before he could give her her birthday present. Flash examined the crayon written words, it was just like Susie's writing.

"How did you?"

"Just read it."

The letter reads:

Dear Flash,

I'm sorry, I wasn't there when you showed up for my birthday. I never got to tell you, but thank you for being at the hospital with me when I was scared of going to treatment or when I had to take my medicine. Thank you for making me smile even when I didn't feel well. Thank you for playing games with me when I couldn't go outside. Thank you for talking to my mom and dad at my funeral. That was really nice. I drew some pictures for you but I never got to finish them when I was in the hospital so I drew you some new ones. Danny says that he'll give them to you.

In the envelope was a series of different colored papers all with different crayon and marker drawings of Susie and him playing in different scenarios. One where she was a doctor and he played the injured patient. One where they were both superheroes. Another one where they were playing shadow puppets when she wasn't feeling well. Page after page were different drawings of them playing with the last one was covered in glitter with a big heart with a crayon drawing of him and Susie.

"Susie said that her biggest regret was that she couldn't say thank you to her hero before she passed. So I bumped her up on my delivery list."

"What?"

"Oh yeah, I never fully introduced myself. I'm Danny Phantom, you can call me Danny. I'm the designated delivery person for the afterlife to the living realm. Any messages or special requests from the dead are delivered by me!" Danny hands him a business card all official.

And it does say: Danny Phantom special delivery service for those of the non-living variety!

"She also said she wanted to give you one last hug before moving on."

"What do you?" Flash is halted from saying anything else as he feels a pressure against his legs. He looks down to see a translucent small figure. She was a picture of what she looked like before the chemo. Susie gives him a smile and a hug before fading before his eyes.

Before Danny officially takes up the mantle of Ghost King he's trying to do a job that would have him interact with all of his citizens first so he could get a feel of it. Hence him making connections with both the living and non-living people (he went big-brain for this idea)

Extra scene:

"Oh that reminds me, I have a card for you from someone else."

"A card?" Flash opens the card only to get sucker-punched in the face. (like one of those cartoon boxing glove punches)

"A punch card." Danny said

Flash groans as he looks at the card that has the words: STOP MESSING WITH TIME! from CW

Obligatory Gotham Scene:

Danny standing in front of a beaten up Joker that has been tied to a chair.

"Just so you know I have a back order of a lot special requests for you. And since I can't exactly kill you, that would create so much political tape. I can let them make requests for certain actions. So right now I have over 50 requests for me to break your legs and over 30 to pull out your teeth and break your jaw. Some of them contradict each other because they want to make every word you say hurt you but others want me to curse you so you can't speak again. So I'll just have to get creative." Danny says winding his arm back and form.

He is for sure being completely professional about, he gets no personal gratification from beating up a crazy clown at all. (said nobody ever)

[generallyjl]

truly a game changer episode of all time

[sydneighsays]

Colored version of my Gerry design~

Jon's an awkward picture taker, change my mind

They'd be great friends if he wasn't dead. God I wish we had more time with him.

[seo-changbinnies]

gifs of my sunshine (159/∞)

[apathyfairy]

last year i found a wii at goodwill for 25 dollars and it came with everything except a wiimote but it was in such good condition i was like hell yeah ill take it how hard can it be to find a wiimote. the answer is it's nearly impossible to find them at thrift stores now so i've spent like 8 months looking for ones in thrift stores but there wasn't a single one and then online but i just couldn't bring myself to spend 30 dollars on one single wiimote so i waited so. patiently. and then 2 weeks ago i finally found one at goodwill for 9 dollars but it was absolutely disgusting and the battery cover was missing and the compartment was all corroded so i put it back and regretted it the whole week but then this last weekend i went to savers and there was an absolutely perfect wiimote just sitting there with no corrosion and a jacket and the wrist strap and motion plus and the nunchuck was there too and i got it all for 10 dollars so the moral of the story is that sometimes things seem right for you in the moment but you have to recognize that they aren't and leave them behind so the things that are meant for you will in fact find you when the time is right. peace and love <3

[cherrirui-official]

"You know... You didn't have to take that with you."

"But I promised him I'd take him out to see the ocean one day."

[spacedace]

Found this old snippet and don't really remember of the context for it outside of being a joking exploration of how weird the Fenton/Phantom family tree would seem to outsiders (not even getting into how relationships might be classified differently between the human side & the ghost side)

Anyway gonna drop it here as a prompt lol

Mind the quick reference to dismemberment, there's no gore or detailed description and no one is actually hurt, it's more there for comedic effect, but still wanted to give the heads up on it 👍

---

Nomad motioned to the towering, vaguely vampire-looking buff dude with literal flaming hair what the fuck, “Dan, this is everyone. Everyone this is Dan. He’s my…” Nomad trailed off and blinked, a look of confused befuddlement on her face as she let the sentence hang for too long.

“Huh…” She said considering, looking up at vampire-dude, Dan apparently, with a confused furrow on her brow. “You know this is the first time I’ve ever had to try and explain our relationship to each other and I’m drawing a blank and what exactly to call you. Uncle? Dad? Brother? Like, I think you could technically be considered all three.”

What the fuck did that mean??? Kon snapped his attention over to meet Tim’s masked gaze, the look of wild confusion Kon was sure was on his own face mirrored there. Around the meeting room confused and worried looks were being shared by the rest of the League. Which like, yeah, what in the Habsburgs was happening here for all of those terms to be applicable?

“Well, you’re Danny’s Mirror, so if you consider him your dad then it stands to reason I’m also your father.” Dan said, hand coming up to his - literally flaming, how did that work? - goatee thoughtfully.

“Yeah but like, I call Danny dad just to piss Vlad off.” Nomad countered, toying with her severed arm with her still attached hand. Kon didn’t think he’d ever get over how casual she was about being literally disarmed and just…not caring. “And I definitely don’t see you as a dad. Uncle?”

The giant of a ghost shook his head with a frown, “Implies that Danny and I are brothers, which could work but gives our relationship kind of a weird vibe. I feel more like his father than anything.”

“Gramps, then?”

“No.”

Nomad laughed, “Fair, wouldn’t want to take the title of Grampa away from CW. Besides we’re both half Vlad, so I think brother works best here.” She frowned, looking thoughtful, “Maybe half brother?”

Dan considered, “Half-brother could work. Though it gives Vlad more credit than he deserves.”

“Oh come on, can you imagine the look on his face if we went in together on suing him for child support?” Nomad asked, fanged grin wicked. Dan’s face lit up at the idea, and Kon felt like they were rapidly heading towards the two ghosts running off to go and go torment whoever this Vlad guy was rather then them help deal with the current demonic problem at hand.

“Can you please explain what any of that means?” Kon asked, more a squeak than anything else. He was starting to get a headache.

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[keitorinrose]

My day be so fine and then boom i think about branch's past

[ruporas]

lonely

[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”

The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”

The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"

The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."

The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"

The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"

The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"

The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."

The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]

[bklily]

Harveston was a very fun event (that I really wanted to post about before lmao life got in the way)

I never expected this wacky group of individuals to have such a fun dynamic but then again, such is the nature of TWST innit

[raindrop-plop]

[megamindsupremacy]

Okay this one might be niche but. Y’all know how sometimes your friend will have a family member they only refer to by their title? Like, “Pop” or “Auntie” No Name? And if you spend a lot of time with this friend then you end up also calling this family member Nona or whatever even though you’re not related?

I headcanon that Clark exclusively refers to his parents as Ma and Pa and literally never tells anyone their names. And Ma and Pa only ever introduce themselves as Ma and Pa. Then by the time someone thinks to ask what Clark’s Ma and Pa’s names are it’s been like half a year and it’s WAY too late to ask for something like that. Like they respond to “Mrs./Mr. Kent”, sure, but also they have the entire league calling them Ma and Pa and they LOVE it. They’ve adopted the entire league via Clark and are delighted by this. It never registers for Clark that all of his coworkers call his parents Ma and Pa too because to him that’s just their names like of course that’s what people call them. Meanwhile every single leaguer with dead parents (most if not all) has a mini breakdown when they realize they’re calling these random midwesterners Ma and Pa. They’re not mad about it! Just confused as to how this happened without anyone noticing