singing just to make it through

Happy bat week! Seemed a good opportunity to share these cute lil friends I made last year.

If they run into Danny (assuming we ignore timelines and just say their canons overlap), he’s of course extremely distrustful of (a) ghost bands and (b) human-led ghost entertainment, so things Do Not go well at first. It takes manager Flynn coming in to break up the fighting and solve the misunderstanding.

Finally finished my latest pet project! I'm pretty new to needle felting so I'm quite happy with how these boys turned out, all things considered.

Watch me shine

That's just how we work, yeah, that's just how we work

Fight through the dark and find the spark

Working on my digital art skills with some screenshot redraws. Was pleasantly surprised with how this one turned out. Someone give the girl a hug.

inspired by a glass art necklace I have that glows under uv

Maybe someone’s made this joke before but I have not seen it so here’s this!

Dress inspired by Trevor’s outfit in the Netflix series. Because I can.

Oh thank you so much!

Adventure Time introduced me to Mitski and I just couldn’t get this image out of my head when listening to this song.

This fic gives me life.

Immediately, his face became the snouted, tusked visage of a boar with a shredded ear. … Graymalk was suddenly striped like a small tiger. … Tekela was starting to look like a vulture. Suddenly, Jill was an ancient hag, bent far forward, hooked nose almost touching her jutting chin, strands of white hair hanging about her face. I glanced at Jack and saw that he suddenly wore the shaggy head of a great brown bear, yellow eyes staring forward, saliva running from the corners of his mouth. Looking downward, I saw that my fur was blood-red and moist; and I felt as if horns jutted from my brow. I had no idea what I might resemble, but Graymalk drew back in alarm. … The Count was suddenly a skeleton wrapped in black. … MacCab became a woman whose painted face began to peel off in long strips. Beside him, Morris was now an ape. … Larry was now a bleeding man sprawled upon the ground. … The moon had gone blood-red and was dripping upon us.

Beside the largest of the rocks, facing east, Larry sat in a meditative posture, his eyes more than half-closed, his breathing barely discernible.  

I rushed to the head of the ladder, turned, and began my descent. The vicar had already lowered the bow by then and commenced rearming it. I moved as fast as I was able, but as I searched with a hind leg after each wooden crosspiece my back felt terribly exposed. Should I make it to the floor unpierced I knew that I would still be at high risk. I hurried. I saw something black flutter by.

And he proceeded to tell me the story of how a number of the proper people are attracted to the proper place in the proper year on a night in the lonesome October when the moon shines full on Halloween and the way may be opened for the return of the Elder Gods to Earth, and of how some of these people would assist in the opening of the way for them while others would strive to keep the way closed. For ages, the closers have won – often just barely – and there were stories of a shadowy man, half-mad, a killer, a wanderer, and his dog, who always showed up to attempt the closing. Some said that he was Cain himself, doomed to walk the Earth, marked; others said he’d a pact with one of the Elders who secretly wished to thwart the others; none really knew.