#whats he playing... who knows

[soukeyed]

guitar...

[tenowls]

teacher getou au...... wauh

[bluerosefox]

It's shenanigans time guys

So have this DpxDc idea.

So, the Justice League and the Light (OR villains in general) have two newish members, they've both been around for about a year and they're from the same plane of existence (a place called the Infinite Realms according to those who dabble in the occult)

And the two seem to have some serious beef with each other.

Wisp and Wrath are basicly feral cats hissing and hekles raised when they spot the other and their fights normally ends in draws. They're evenly matched and sometimes the two even fight to the point they are out of steam and just fist fight.

Needless to say everyone believes they totally hate each other and might one day kill (or end?) One of them.

So everything gets turned upside down when suddenly both factions of heros and villains are suddenly summoned to the Infinite Realms.

In a throne room.

In front of the Infinite King (or most commonly known as the Ghost King)

A King who looks very, very much like Wisp and Wrath (like yeah the two do sometimes look alike, like when they grin with sharp teeth and their hair color, but one has blue skin and red eyes for crying out loud!)

He's staring at them, glowing green eyes that seemed to just... know.

"Welcome to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." His voice echoing in the throne room and seemed to rattle them deeply, like a sudden chill in the early morning.

"I have summoned you all here for a single reason." He continued to say "Tell me..."

Here he paused, closed his eyes before leaning back on the chair then he smiled big and cheerfully asked.

"How are my kids doing in your world? Dan and Ellie arent causing too much chaos in their wake are they? They tend to go a tiny bit overboard sometimes but what siblings don't when they rough house you know. Tell me everything."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Average Drama Enjoyer observes some peak drama.

[carlyraejepsans]

cringe gaymers hanging out. don’t know why but sans always seemed like a rhythm games fan

BONUS:

[raptorrobot]

i feel like i'm fighting for my fucking life here

[puppyeared]

id fumble him so bad

[javelinbk]

Sixty years ago today, Paul McCartney got bopped on the head

John Lennon, Paul McCartney and George Harrison in EMI studio 2 during recording sessions for A Hard Day’s Night, 27th February 1964 - part one (part two)

[corallapis]

[rookdaw]

monster X monster hunter

[ryllen]

[tangledinink]

Hey, this may be random but imagine you put your tmnt au in some competition, like the basketball one.

How would they react when they see that everyone is a mutant turtle except them ?

Love your art❤️

lmao what a fun question,,, also thank you! ; w ; i havent really been following the basketball au poll but I threw in some ppl from my dash for funsies. ft. @evenmoreofadisaster @tmntredline and @beannary tlp.

bonus: splinter sidebar

[ i'm sorry, teenage mutant what now? ]

[antiqua-lugar]

I'm so tired of people playing Sorcerers and getting upset when Gale clarifies they needed someone studied in magic and being like "But I am sooo much better than a wizard, I was born with it!"

Girl, you might be *check notes* magic incarnate but that means absolutely nothing when he is looking for an academic

"But I was born good at magic!"

Okay, and I was born a native Italian speaker, however if an academic asked me if I have studied Italian I would have to say no, because academically I have not. I don't know a single italian linguist. I don't know how we went from indio european to latin to Italian. I don't even know why sardo is a language and bergamasco is a dialect. I forgot all the grammar I had to learn. Sometimes I talk to Tuscans and I do not understand them. it's almost like those are two entirely different things

[rowenas-megacoven]

Loki gets a time dilf, Wade gets a time dilf, you get a time dilf, I get a time dilf, EVERYONE gets a time dilf let’s goooooooo

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Game night results (from this poll)

Character selection inspired from extraterezi's post!

[notbecauseofvictories]

My best friend and I had a call recently---she’s back with her family for a bit helping out with some hometown stuff. As part of the stuff, she’s been going through a (deceased) relative’s scrapbook, compiled in the American Midwest circa 1870-1900 and featuring mostly cut-out figures from the ads of the day.

She talked about how painstaking this relative’s work was. (Apparently the relative was careful to cut out every finger, every cowlick; this was by no means carelessly or hastily assembled.) But she also she talked about how---the baby on the baking soda ad is ugly, it is so ugly, why anyone would clip this heinously ugly illustrated baby and paste it into a scrapbook? Why would you save the (terribly told, boring) ghost story that came with your box of soap?

(Why include these things in the first place? we asked each other. ”There’s a kind of anti-capitalism to it,” she mused.)

And we discussed that for a bit---how most of the images, stories, artists, and ads were local, not national; they’re pulled from [Midwestern state] companies’ advertisements in [Midwestern state] papers, magazines, and products. As a consequence, you’re not looking at Leyendecker or Norman Rockwell illustrations, but Johann Spatz-Smith from down the road, who took a drawing class at college.

(College is the state college, and he came home on weekends and in the summer to help with the farm or earn some money at the plant.)

But it also inspired a really interesting conversation about how---we have access to so much more art, better and more professional art, than any time in history. As my bff said, all you have to do to find a great, technically proficient and lovely representational image of a baby, is to google the right keywords. But for a girl living in rural [Midwestern state] of the late 1800s, it was the baking soda ad, or literal actual babies. There was no in-between, no heading out to the nearby art museum to study oil paintings of mother and child, no studying photographs and film---such new technologies hadn’t diffused to local newspapers and circulars yet, and were far beyond the average person’s means. But cheap, semi-amateur artists? Those were definitely around, scattered between towns and nearby smallish cities.

It was a good conversation, and made me think about a couple things---the weird entitlement that “professional” and expensive art instills in viewers, how it artificially depresses the appetite for messy unprofessional art, including your own; the way that this makes your tastes narrower, less interesting, less open.

By that I mean---maybe the baby isn’t ugly! Maybe you’ve just seen too many photorealistic babies. Maybe you haven’t really stopped to contemplate that your drawing of a baby (however crude, ugly, or limited) is the best drawing of a baby you can make, and the act of drawing that lumpen, ugly baby is more sacred and profoundly human than even looking at a Mary Cassatt painting.

And even if that isn’t the case....there was this girl in [American Midwestern state] for whom it was very, very important that she capture every finger, curl, and bit of shading for that ugly soap ad baby. And some one hundred years later, her great-something-or-other took pains to preserve her work---because how terribly human it is, to seek out all the art we can find that resonates with us, preserve it, adore it.

It might be the most human impulse we have.