void

void or remus 23 pronouns: they/it/he/star/chat/moth/void • istg just dont be a dick

[revidenant]

About me:

• fandom adjacent? I tend to hover around the edges of fandoms, sometimes participating, mostly just reblogging - crossover fan!

• i dont have a gender, see pronouns above, or dont, i dont really care enough

• neurodivergent

• the stuff I'll reblog is vast and varied, be warned.

• I do stuff (art, sometimes writing, occasional hobby vo stuff :3 all sorts of creative hobbies (too many, in fact)) - art blog: @voidfilledrevenant

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

we gotta get back into revolving bookcases i'm begging

truly we allow the pinnacles of human achievement to wither and collapse into ashes in the wind

[anablepsian]

These are the most fuckable bookshelves I’ve ever seen

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

i am delighted to inform you that wild bears seeking out and swinging on hammocks is in fact a fairly common occurrence!

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

thanks to @fandomislife03 for this extremely important information:

#as somebody born and raised in black bear country this is accurate #theyre also fond of backyard playgrounds

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

UPDATE: they also do this with backyard swimming pools

(and yes, same applies to kiddie pools)

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

oh 10/10 tags:

#The mama bear we have around here in the summer knows what she's doing#she stretches out in the sun under the fruit trees#and sends her cubs up the trees to throw fruit down to her

[mevil]

[vamptits]

they want you to make fried rice

[memser]

who is "they"

[vamptits]

the wok left

[solongandthanksforallthefish42]

how am I supposed to make fried rice if the wok left

[worldheritagepostorganization]

World Heritage Post

[newrider]

[wamscoastsmoker]

IT’S HALLOWEEN TIME TO GET SPOOKY

[notsocialphobixanymorelmao-deac]

I T S T H E M I D D L E O F J U N E

[wamscoastsmoker]

I T I S H A L L O W E E N T I M E T O G E T S P O O K Y

[worldheritagepostorganization]

World Heritage Post

[shewhowillrise]

[pukicho]

Today's my 27th birthday

Visit Original Link

[gravy-ways]

happy birthday to frog. it is also my mothers birthday

[pukicho]

Visit Original Link

[just-a-panguin]

It’s not my birthday but can I get a song anyway

[pukicho]

Visit Original Link

[possumblogs]

i died. do you have a song for that?

[pukicho]

Visit Original Link

[revidenant]

I've ascended to the void, got something for that?

[revidenant]

I feel like I might've made a mistake by giving my fursona four arms when i never know what to do with character arms- and now there's double the amount-

[moniquill]

[cunninghammy]

[mslockheart]

I always have to start the New Years with this picture.

[memewhore]

[gildatheplant]

Literally any other colour would’ve been a better choice guys.

[minty-mayhem]

I’d like to point out that the colour red has more positive than negative meanings.

[prescribedburning-deactivated20]

im sorry but this reply absolutely killed me

red can mean whatever the heck you want it to mean, that is never going to change that this straight up looks like they DRAGGED A BLOODY BODY ACROSS THE FUCKING FLOOR 😂

[elsegame]

Hi fun fact, colors do have meaning and there is a legit thing called color theory. Red does has more positive connotations than negative like the @mintymaiden said. Red is associated with more love, lust, passion than blood and death just like the chart shows you but If you want, here’s a link for you to check it out yourself. Also, check out “The Designer’s Dictionary of Color” by Sean Adams. Have fun learning something

Xoxo

-Designer

What is Color Theory?

What isColor Theory? Color theory is a term used to describe the collection of rules and guidelines regarding the use of color in art and de

[youngdiasporan]

I think y’all are missing the point here.

[forlovefromfear]

You can theorize to Nebraska and back but that doesn’t change my immediate reaction which is that someone is literally dragging a corpse around

[jhenne-bean]

I like that the presumption here is that “No One On Tumblr Has Heard of Color Theory, Let Me Explain in Depth” rather than simply acknowledging that the VISUAL EFFECTS of this particular color choice, applied in the manner it was, can still amount to “this is a hospital and that looks like blood”

like, color theory doesn’t exist in a vacuum. If your design of choice for Blood Red Paint is asymmetric splatters and sploches against the wall, or in this case, a snail trail on the hallway’s floor, an infographic won’t override the viewers’ instinct.

[eternal-dannation]

this post is the perfect summation of tumblr’s reading comprehension and critical thought abilities

[musicalhell]

Reblogging because there’s a lot of new people on here and you need some context for the jokes.

[trickster-archangel]

Help a newcomer, reblog Children’s Hospital Colour Theory

[therelatableimages]

[curlsandhairdye-blog]

I have been waiting for this little guy to come back on my dash. He dances in sync with any music you play!

[unfinishedmelody]

He’s dancing to Carry On My Wayward Son. It’s surreal.

[thejoanglebook-deactivated20210]

Please make him dance to the song from the soundtrack of A Chorus Line: “Opening: I Hope I Get It.”

There are some great moments.

[agaybird]

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

[duplexbiscuit]

when you get sucked into a gigantic green portal during patrol and end up in some random state’s backwoods and have to reign in all your survival instincts so you don’t thrash everyone or die trying.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I imagine you get a lot of requests for the Menace AU, but if it's not too much trouble, would you mind writing about Danny meeting his new younger siblings and their reactions? I think it would be really fun and sweet, although they'd probably all be a little worried at first.

Dick was angry. It was an odd feeling to spend every second of every day since that night being so angry that he actually twitched with it.

While the American government tried to figure out what to do with him, while the circus that had been his entire life moved on- leaving him behind- Dick sat in a stupid little cell while the man who killed his parents was out there, living life like usual.

There was no room in the foster system, they said. The only place that could take Dick in was Juvi. They threw him in here, like a common criminal, while his parents' murderers walked away, covering the end of Dick's world as a mere accident.

It wasn't fair. How dare he? How dare they tell him to sit? To wait. That man needed to die. He needed to have his neck snapped under Dick's hands.

"Well, aren't you a tiny thing?" A gruff voice huffs, dragging Dick's attention away from his blood smear thoughts. Standing behind the bars of his cell, twirling a set of keys, a teenager dressed in all black, looking like death had attempted to take him but was driven away. Dick nearly believed it was an evil spirit that the Strong Man used to warn him about.

Usually, he would have been frightened and would have hidden in his mother's skirts until the spirit moved on, but that vile, dark, hot anger only made him scowl. The teenager's lips twitch upwards a little, but when he opens his mouth, he speaks too fast for Dick to understand.

His scowl turns darker. He had been learning English and was getting so good at it, but he couldn't keep up in a conversation at that pace. The teenager seemed to understand, for he merely stared at Dick for a few more minutes, eyes cold and intense enough that the hairs on Dick's arms stood on end.

The teenager spoke again before twisting on his heel and blending into the shadows of the hallway. The second he was gone, sound rammed back into Dick's cell. He jumped, surprised that he hadn't noticed the world had gone quiet until the honking and zooming cars sounds returned, there were small mutters from his nearby cellmates, and even the dripping from the tiny sink in the corner resumed.

Dick shivered, a bit of fear overpowering his anger slightly. He hopes he doesn't have to deal with the teenager for a short while.

A few minutes later, the guards came to get him, because Mr. Wyane had somehow gotten hold of his file and would be his new foster home. Apparently, it was an expedited effort that his adopted son pushed for. Apparently, he made a commotion about putting children in juvie for convenience, and it sparked enough public outrage that Dick's case, along with six others, was reviewed that same day.

_________________________________________________________

Tim was three years old when he first met Danny Fenton-Wayne. It had been a few weeks after Mr. Wayne had let his son out in a public event at his office. Rumors of Danny being his illegitimate son were still circulating, but Tim wasn't old enough to understand what that meant.

He only knew it was bad and that his parents had shaken their heads over something Mr. Wyane had done. Tim was the youngest person there that night. His parents had wanted to get him a babysitter for the night, but his usual nanny had been sent home early after his mother realized the poor thing was running a high fever and in no condition to care for a child as small as Tim.

He was instructed to stay in a corner of the room and draw. Tim was having a good time doing that, but eventually he got a bit sleepy, and without a second's hesitation, he wandered out of his corner into the ballgowns and pantsuits, looking for his parents.

At once, it became apparent that this was a party for grown-ups because no one looked down. Tim was stepped on, shoved, pushed, and even sneered at by drunks enough times that he burst into tears. The adults, once realizing it was a little child, had all given each other wide-eyed looks and a few attempts to coo at him to calm him down, but Tim wasn't having any of it.

He wanted his parents, and he was crying loudly, messy, hot tears until they arrived. Now the rich had children, but most of them didn't even touch their own, let alone someone else's. None of them knew what to do to get the tiny thing to stop crying.

No one but Danny Fenton-Wayne, who appeared from a dark hallway like a ghost and glided his way to Tim. That's when his memory of the event sharpens, and Tim swears he will remember it in perfect detail till the day he dies.

Danny had crouched down to his height, then had let out a low, even howl that instantly calmed Tim down. It was like Danny had been a werewolf trying to have his pup settle, and although the faces of every adult had gone pale, Tim had never felt as safe as he did wrapped in Danny's frequency. A few minutes went by, and Tim and Danny were in utter silence after Danny stopped making the sound, locked gazes, not moving a inch, not even blinking, before Tim felt his eyelids grow heavy

He had tilted forward into Danny's strong arms, and the teenager had stood with him utterly boneless in his hold. His head resting on Danny's shoulder, Tim had drifted off as the crowd parted like the Red Sea for Danny.

He had gone searching for his parents to return the now slumbering child. His parents had been worried that Tim had been placed under some kind of sleeping curse once the story of how Danny put him to bed circulated through the grapevine.

___________________________________________________________

Jason had been running for his life, a group of street kids—older and bigger—hot on his heels. He had only been on the streets a few days when he accidentally walked into their hideout.

He had witnessed a violent beating of some school kid, and like an idiot, he had gasped out loud when one of them had hit the crying male teenager with a metal pipe until his cries cut off and an ill-filling pool of red appeared underneath him.

The one with the pipe had been the one who spotted him, eyes wild and crazed, and Jason hadn't even bothered to gather his things. He just turned and threw himself through the small hole he had crawled through.

Then it has been a chase through alleyways. He had the advantage of a head start, but that was quickly losing its edge as the older kids were much faster than he was. Not to mention that Jason had been weakened by a lack of food, proper rest, and the recent grief of his mother's passing.

A few of those chasing him shouted out threats and taunts that had Jason's already fast beating heart kick up to a painful rhythm, and when he attempted to take a turn, his foot slammed him against a brick wall, which made his heart twist painfully.

He scrambled to get to his feet, but that small mistake had been just what they were waiting for. Jason's world exploded in pain when a metal pipe slammed on his head, knocking him back to the ground as a scream ripped out of his throat. The group surrounded him, cutting off every exit, leaving Jason to crawl towards the brick wall, pressing himself against it as he stared upwards at the jeering street kids in horror.

"Little rats should know their place." One of them hissed, Crime Alley's accent making his t's come out hard and sharp. Jason cowered more, pressing his arms over his head.

"I couldn't agree more." A soft voice cut in. The entire group was startled by the appearance of a teenager wearing one of those rich-kid uniforms —Gotham Academy —at the entrance to the alley. Jason had been grateful for his appearance.

He planned to make a run for it the second the group realized the new guy came from money. Their eyes filled with greed as the teenager, one of the prettiest people Jason had ever seen, casually walked into the light, and he just broadcast another way the street gang could make money off him.

Another thing Jason learned early on was that you could never be too pretty on the streets. Bad things happened to folk like that.

"Well, aren't you-" Whatever the leader-the one with the metal pipe-was gearing up to say was lost as the pretty stranger pointed at him with cold, dead eyes and whispered.

"Johnny Smith says he wants you."

The pipe weilder scoffs, "I killed Johnny Smith."

Jason had never thought about death before, not in the sense of what the grim reaper looked like, but the smile that cut across Danny Fenton-Wayne's face was how he pictured it for years to come as he whispered. "I know. The spirits want you. Johnny wants you."

Pipe metal's leg was suddenly yanked out from underneath him as he was dragged further into the darkness of the alley by an invincible force. His screams echoed and then faded as if he was thrown down a sewer, fading away into nothingness. The last thing anyone heard was his pleas. "Johnny! Johnny, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Everyone was frozen in horror as the pretty teenager giggled. His dull, soul-searching eyes pinned everyone in place as he whispered. "Do you want me to ask the spirits if they want any new friends?"

They ran, not a single one bothering to answer, and Jason was left trembling on the floor as Danny Fenton-Wayne carefully walked up to tower over his fallen form. "Hello, Mr. Todd"

"H-how do you know my name?"

Danny tilted his head, then pulled out a miniature doll of Jason and his mother, crocheted with care and precision. It sent a spike of utter terror through him, even if he desperately wanted one of his mom. Jason hadn't been able to save a photo when the social services people had taken him. "Here. Take this to the clinic down in Crime Alley. They can fix you right up. I'm going to pick up my friend; these idiots attacked him, and he needs medical attention. Then I'm going to hunt them all down and make them pay. You best be off the streets by the,n yeah?"

Jason hadn't lingered to ask any more questions. Years later, he still has the dolls Danny made him sitting on his bed.

[bebx]

THEY ARE SO CUTE

[oh-good]

this is a Christmas post for you to like and unlike over and over to see the little snowy animation they have rn