#and I was there for NINE. Years.
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Funny how a bad day makes you a whole lot less excited and more hesitant to return to work the next day…
#oh my gosh guys Sydney is awful… like her entire ‘performance’ (or lack thereof) totally set off the entire workplace#and caused everyone to be behind and in such bad moods - including myself#we’re all hoping she quits but if she doesn’t… I think the owner plans on firing her🥴#(and Chastity is such a sensitive person it’s gonna upset her having to do that…)#but oh my gosh!! I never want to work with her again.#I miss Brock so much that was kid was not only a great worker but could answer any question you threw at him!!#she keeps whining saying ‘I just don’t like working’.#THEN HONEY YOU BEST FIND YOURSELF A RICH MAN TO MARRY BECAUSE IN THIS LIFE WE WORK TO BE ABLE TO LIVE#And I’m sorry if I have no sympathy for her but I worked in an environment that was so stressful and toxic#that I was literally losing my hair (I’m still hoping it regains its old thickness)#and I was there for NINE. Years.#this job seems like heaven after that so don’t come crying to me about how the freezer makes your job the most cruel thing on earth🙄y#you wanna know what’s cruel little Missy?! Cruel is making your employees wear a mask while running up and down stairs in the stifling heat#and humidity witu no AC. Whatsoever.#CRUEL is forcing your single young female employee to make friendly small talk with the shady males of your town#even after you’ve voiced how unsafe and vulnerable you feel#cruel is being fired over your social anxiety. (she wanted me gone so she used my personality against me)#AFTER NINE YEARS OF HARD WORK AVAILABILITY AND DEDICATION!#Cruel IS NOT stocking our freezer products in a small local grocery store#AND GIRL!!! you were literally hired to replace Brock!! he TRAINED you. You KNEW EXACTLY what your job was gonna consist of.#you do NOT have my sympathies#and if you hate a part of your job wouldn’t you work quickly just to get it over with?! cause that’s what I do!!!#ughhhh…#personal#work woes#a day in the life of a market associate
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Did you know Nana Visitor said in an interview she wasn’t considered a beautiful actress in the 90’s? absolutely insane
I actually had a hard time finding reference images for early season short hair big shoulder pads Kira. I guess they did less promo and the camera quality was maybe a bit shit in early on idk but this is my favourite outfit of hers ever I literally wrote about it for uni once
Anyway I can see definite improvement from my Dax painting, i’m still colour picking from the reference so I might challenge myself not to do that next time. I think this took around 3 hours? I should probably start timing myself
I’m really happy i’m getting better at digital painting but it has made me a little sad that I do so little traditional art now. that being said this is soo much easier to post getting a photo of the VVitch poster was so difficult and it would not scan correctly!!
all art is under #my art ,click for better quality !
#I love her your honour#having short hair in my teen years and seeing her looking fucking stunning really helped my awkward teen self#like i often felt like I wasn’t “pretty with short hair but watching ds9 everyday after school#i was like well clearly this is the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen and we have the same hair so#anywayyyy#my art#ds9#star trek#star trek ds9#deep space nine#deep space 9#kira ds9#kira nerys#kira nerys ds9
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Year in Akechi
#goro akechi#crow#black mask#persona 5 royal#persona 5#persona#mine#I think my art has progressed so much this year and it is in no small part from the inspiration I get from Akechi#Also these are not in order LOL I finished the second to last piece at nine in the morning today
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DP x DC Writing Prompt #5
Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.
After a moment, the door opens.
"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.
"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.
"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."
Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.
"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"
"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.
For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.
Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.
Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"
"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.
"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.
"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.
"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.
"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.
"He did," Jazz says.
Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.
Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.
A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.
This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.
Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.
In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.
"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.
Damian stops dead in his tracks.
"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.
Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.
"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.
Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"
Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.
"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.
"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.
Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.
"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.
"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.
Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.
Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.
Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.
They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.
"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.
"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.
Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."
"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."
"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.
"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."
Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.
"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"
"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.
"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."
"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."
"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."
Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.
"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."
Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.
Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.
Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.
Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.
A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.
His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.
"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"
"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.
He never stopped practicing, after all.
"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."
"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."
Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.
"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.
"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."
"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."
Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.
"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."
"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."
"Mr. Wayne-"
"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."
Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."
"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."
For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.
"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."
"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.
He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.
Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."
Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."
Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."
"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."
Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."
"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."
"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.
"Even then."
Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.
"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.
"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.
But for his brother, Danny will wake up.
"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."
#Danny I AM RETIRED FROM MURDER Fenton#the informants are ghosts#the thing about deductive reasoning is sometimes you deduct incorrectly#particularly when you don't know about the ghosts#danyal al ghul#damian wayne#danny phantom#batman#dp x dc au#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc prompt#bruce wayne#this is an au where damian doesn't get blown up and lose most of his vital organs#like bruce still isn't a super responsible parent but no nine year olds blow up so that's something#danny: he only blew up once so he can stay with you#batman: he did get speared straight through but we fixed it#danny: he wHAT#i wrote this instead of eating dinner#because drafts are for the mentally healthy#tbh i don't think his name would be danyal al ghul in this one#he's trying really hard to stay under the radar I don't think he would choose essentially a homonym
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Pathetic, honestly 🌸
#detroit become human#gavin reed#rk900#reed900#god i know nines isn't even here#but i hope i've been here long enough#for you to believe me when i say#every gavin i draw is inescapably#reed900 at its core#sketch#this blog is now me just posting drunk art once per calendar year
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Day 3625 - 22 May 2024
ストロボライト
My piece for the Vocaloid exhibition at Museo Casa de Carranza INAH, Mexico! The exhibition will run from now until the 23rd of June 2024.
.//projectTiGER
#projecttiger#vocaloid#hatsune miku#strobe light#It's been nine years. I hope you're doing well no matter where you are.
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"…Yes! You see? What a thrill! What a rush!
That was YOU!
The button described you!..."
ৎ˚₊✩‧₊〽️💬🎙️🖥️🕒🪣✨ ₊✩‧₊˚౨
PLEASE DO NOT STEAL
#the stanley parable#tsp#tspud#the stanley parable ultra deluxe#my artwork#stanley#tsp stanley#<3<3<3#…I've been thinking about this game a lot…#I can’t wait to play it again in nine years…#the narrator#tsp narrator#to everyone who was able to buy the collectors edition … I ENVY YOU SO MUCH#If you ordered an extra figurine or extra button I'll more than happy to buy it plz XD#/srs
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More of my small garashir series..
#garashir#julian bashir#elim garak#star trek ds9#star trek fanart#ds9 fanart#ds9#deep space nine#star trek#watercolor fanart#me everytime i pick up my watercolors recently: oh its time to draw doctor bashir again huh#god tumblr recd me that tag and. its not wrong still#its been two years and by god i still LOVE to draw julian bashir ❤️#idk who made the post with like. a bunch of mini garashir stills#but thank u!! they are so good reference#julian bashir fanart#elim garak fanart
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Okay, so maybe Tim has no business being in Bludhaven. Tim maintains that since his parents fail at parenting, he can do whatever he wants.
Besides, it's for a good cause. Like, not letting Tarantula get her dirty hands on his big brother in another time line. Tarantula had popped up in the Bludhaven servers - by that, Tim means the endless amounts of threads and underground fronts for criminal activity that he stalks on a regular basis- by being seen with Nightwing. Tim had immediately booked a ride to Bludhaven and bought another burner. He'd try to take care of her himself, but if worse comes to worse, he'd call Deathstroke. He's totally aware of the weird tension Deathstroke has with Nightwing and Tim's kind of banking on that.
Dick's been back in Blud for two months now, Jason having assuaged his mother hen tendencies enough for Dick to get sick of the Manor. Tim hadn't meant to follow since he had plenty of projects to work on now that "SAVE JASON" wasn't blaring at the top of his head.
But then Tarantula appeared and Tim saw red, remembering the way Dick spoke about her and what she did to him.
He bids the driver goodbye. The driver doesn't question his being on his lonesome mainly because 1) Gothamites mind their own busines, 2) Tim gave him a $500 tip to make sure he remains a "good" Gothamite cabbie, and 3) Tim made sure he was dropped off in the swankiest, most ostentatious hotel Bludhaven had to offer.
"Rich people," the cab driver had muttered as Tim closed the door. Perfect.
Tim got his keycard, having checked in under Alvin Draper over the phone. Normally, they'd require an in person visit, but money talks. And people listened when Tim had a lot of things to say.
Tim even feels like he's trained enough to go out! Lady Shiva's training was ingrained into his memory, and Tim's built enough muscle to make use of some of it. He is still nine, after all. He's so much stealthier this time around. Plus, he's got almost his full tool set back. Sure, some of the tech is ancient, but he managed to finagle it to make grappling guns and smoke pellets more along the quality that he's used to.
Tim waits until nightfall, looping the surveillance around his window to mask his exit. Tim adjusts his domino, eyes scanning the city skyline as his handheld computer (god, he can't believe he has to invent wrist computers) tracked reports of Nightwing through Tweetings.
Ah. He's around Seventh. Tim grimaces as his untested joints adjusts to the grappling guns. His dark clothes make him hard to spot, to his advantage as he tracks down Nightwing.
Tim watches, perched on an adjacent roof as Nightwing takes down a crowd of goons with the flips Tim remembered watching from afar and up close in another timeline.
"Blockbuster'll kill everyone you love, Nightwing!"
Tim winces at the rather brutal crunch that followed, Nightwing having punched the guy and knocked him out in one move. He watches Dick sigh, tugging at his hair in stress.
Tim could... no, no. He shouldn't think of murder as a first option. Well, no, he shouldn't think of Deathstroke as a first option. But he'll need to take Blockbuster out before anything happens. And he needs to threaten the new Tarantula before anything happens. He won't allow her to even get close to Dick.
Maybe it's unfair to punish her for a crime she hasn't done, but unlike murder, rape can never be defended. Catalina Flores is a dead woman walking.
Tim stalks his big brother back home and then broke off to begin his short reign of terror over Bludhaven's underground. If he can't get Dick to take a break (and Tim's tried, a lot, over the years) then he'll make sure that the next month is as gentle as possible on his older brother.
Step 1. Murder Take care of Blockbuster
Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.
No. Wait. Tim has a better idea. He's got dirt on them, on top of the murder thing. He'll fabricate Catalina's tax returns, embezzle a shit ton of money from the IRS, and get her and her corrupt brother (because getting your sister out from murder charges is considered corrupt) arrested and locked away. And he'll make sure they stay locked away with some good old blackmail on Amanda Waller.
Tim grins, tranquilizing the building with an ungodly amount of knock out gas pellets, to riffle through the police precinct's files.
Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.
Step 2. Cripple Catalina Flores and her brother with blackmail and the IRS.
In three hours, Tim has everything he needs to begin a temporary hostile takeover. He's got the names of local mob bosses, the big players, and the names of practically every police officer that takes bribes and their... sponsors.
He'll have to cut off Blockbuster's lines of supplies first. Then, blacklist him from local suppliers, mobilize the police precinct against him (by imitating his M.O. perfectly- Tim's not a fucking amateur- and pretending to rob the precinct blind), and then break his knees.
Step 3. Profit
Tim takes out his shiny new burner phone, enjoying the loud sounds of the police squawking through his planted bugs. He lounges on the building next to it, keeping an eye out for Nightwing just in case the man decides to respond to the crisis.
[Unknown: It's RR.]
[Deathstroke: New phone?]
[RR: Who dis?]
[Deathstroke: What?]
[RR: Nevermind. I'll give you forty thousand to shoot someone's knees out.]
[Deathstroke:... That's it? Who?]
[RR: Blockbuster. Bludhaven. Extra twenty thousand if you tell him he's got the spine of a sea slug, kick him in the balls, and post it on Tweeting.]
[Deathstroke: What did he do to you? Deal.]
Tim ignored Deathstroke's question.
[RR: Half sent. Confirm?]
[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Timeline?]
[RR: Three weeks. 21 days.]
[Deathstroke: Confirmed.]
----
Tim grins ferally, all teeth as Catalina Flores looked on in horror at her computer screen.
"Get out of Bludhaven, and don't come back. If you even think of going near Nightwing, I will rip what's left of your pathetic, sniveling swine of a brother apart. You will not enjoy the consequences."
Tim clicks off, watching Catalina and her brother launch themselves into mad packing. He tapped out a short message to Amanda Waller for her and her team to intercept them at the state lines. They'll never get away from Tim's fury. Never.
[Waller: It's done.]
[Waller: I will find you.]
[RR: You can definitely try, Waller. Good doing business with you.]
Tim can see the blood vessel the woman popped after he sent that last message. He laughs.
He saves Deathstroke's video from Tweeting onto his actual, spoofed phone. He destroys the burner phone, less shiny now that he's dragged it through two and a half weeks of breaking heads and terrorizing the Bludhaven Underground. Nightwing hadn't even gotten a whiff of his activities, this Dick being far less experienced and known in this version of Blud.
One more week and Tim can continue his other projects.
----
Nightwing, going about his vigilante business: wow it sure is peaceful
Feral Tim Drake, Nightwing's scary dog privilege: try me, bitch
#tim's kind of intense#tim drake#genius tim drake#tim drake taking out catalina flores#catalina flores#tarantula#dc#batman#amanda waller#amanda waller getting blackmailed by a nine year old#deathstroke#slade wilson#nightwing#dick grayson#blockbuster#i know nothing about blockbuster as a villain#but I have beef with him on principle#and so does Tim#feral Tim drake#Tim's first thought is “how can capitalism work for me?”#and he calls deathstroke about it
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oh my god i should put my truth into the world
Captain Marvel has been a member of the Justice League for over a decade, joining shortly after his debut.
Billy Batson was chosen as Champion of Magic at age 9.
By all appearances, Billy is currently age 11.
When a person is chosen as the Champion, the effects of such a strong concentration of magic kinda fucks with their aging. With an adult, there's not really that big of a deal; some people look younger than they are due to genetics.
Unfortunately, it is much more noticeable when the Champion is a child.
Billy isn't an eternal child, or anything, he's still going to grow up. His aging just stopped while his body adapted to being the anchor to all of magic. So now he's a middle school aged kid, with a twin sister who just turned 21.
#billy batson#captain marvel#alright im too tired to write more. but this is the concept!#he's way more mature than the average 12 year old coz lived experience n stuff#but he's still immature because he's physically twelve.#my version of Fawcett is used to weird aging; its just usually 'immortal old people' flavor and not 'unaging child' flavor.#billy definitely has a highschool diploma in my mind. there's a 9 year old graduating with 18 year olds and nobody bats an eye#i think identity reveal is funny if your coworker of a decade plus turns out to be 12 years old#'oh my god did we let a toddler join the team. did we put a small child on the front lines'#billy: 'no! i was nine. perfectly reasonable'
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Artwork I made for Synthetic Touch, a ReverseAu 9G Zine on Twitter(X) Make sure to check them out!! Also massive thanks to all the amazing modes and supportive team!! Special thanks to @cptjh-arts 💙
#reed900#gavin reed#gavin x rk900#dbh reverse au#rk900 nines#detroit become human#dbh#dbh nines#ok but how do I draw neon lights and dark environment??#how to draw digitally?? have no clue..#also first post this year? LETS GOOOO
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Welp
#deep space nine#ds9#deep space 9#bell riots#star trek deep space nine#star trek#ops to trashir#personal log supplemental#posted this as a reply to my new years post but figured I should do another new post too#ds9 past tense
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A very lazily colored doodle of the critter
#i like to think that the sugar rush equivalent of alcohol is malts and milkshakes#this man is drinking cartoon booze#king candy#wreck it ralph#turbo#tmw you successfully jail a nine year old in prison forever ♡♡♡♡#he's so proud of himself
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GIFSET REQUEST MEME | @fenharel asked → lord of the rings + favourite villain
#lotredit#tolkienedit#tlotrgifs#oneringedit#oneringnet#sourcetolkien#fantasyedit#tolkienmine#mine*#gifsetrequestmeme#fenharel#so so so it turns out that I already made this prompt#like nine years ago#and I made a witch king of angmar gifset for that one#buuuut I didn't want to make the same gifset#so you get a sauron :D#i hope you like it <3#QUEUE.
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HAPPY SEVEN OF NINE DAY!!
#Star Trek: Voyager#Star Trek: Picard#Seven of Nine#Jeri Ryan#Star Trek#trekedit#VOY#PIC#i love that we get to celebrate twice a year#my edits
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[og]
#rgg#ryu ga gotoku#ryu ga gotoku 7#yakuza series#yakuza 7#yakuza like a dragon#ichiban kasuga#masato arakawa#snap sketches#i was gonna be productive today but i made the mistake of going on twitter and the speed at which i opened a new canvas#havent drawn masato in nine million years hi beautiful#was actually gonna try to doodle him today. for world goth day like i did last year jarLVJELREJ but universe had different plans#anyway ichi's aint even about masato it about some other mfers. masato is about ichi. of course#ok im gonna ACTUALLY be productive now. and by this i mean im gonna make myself a blt THEN be productive bye
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