#i prepared myself for that

[teaboot]

You need to make art that nobody else likes. You need to make art that speaks to you alone. You need to cradle a serpent that eats its own tail and you need to love it until it loves you back

[blkwag]

dayum

[sable-skies]

goodness gracious this took far too long. anyways, the rest of them :]

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST] Being a witcher is not always easy - but what is, really? Still, Geralt feels bad that Jaskier is now living through something he never wanted him to experience again. (What is a spielzeugkaiser post if there isn't hurt/comfort, honestly-)

[tsukinoshinjiu]

-eats your art- it's all so pretty! wild in a skirt is chef's kiss, could I maybe ask for someone else in a skirt too? Feel like maybe Legend in a pretty dress would be nice

Thank you so much! 💖

There was a festival in Kakariko, and of course our veteran can never refuse a group dance :)

Pencil only version below for those who like it~

[escyn]

Old Wounds Reopened[flood]: Kyoshi Warrior Sokka | Blue Spirit

Zukka Week Day 3 (id in alt)

+some close-ups bc I love them so

other things from ZW2024: Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

[tomahachi12]

Day 27 - Worker N

[inklessletter]

"Eyes on me. Yeah. Good boy."

---

Thank you so much for trusting and sticking around.

Steve says thank you 💛

[flufflecat]

[haunted-xander]

S.E.E.S

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[kasieli]

Hear me out: MC and Seb exploring the underwater caves together

[shushmal]

"Are you going to break my heart?"

Eddie almost drives them off the road.

It's late, nearly 2 am, and the country road is narrow and winding, and this thing between them, fingers twinned above the gear shift, radio turned down low, Stevie Nicks singing to them softly, is new. Eddie wants to live in this moment forever, wants the smell of lake water and dying August heat to live in their clothes, wants the warmth of first kisses and whispered confessions to last in tingling sparks in their skin, the memory of touch to be permanent. It won't be, it'll all fade, but Eddie can visit it again, rewrite them into the cotton and the softness of Steve's mouth.

It's late, and this is new.

"It's okay if you do," Steve says, so quiet. He's holding on to Eddie's hand like he's dangling off a cliff. "I can handle it. I'd just like a heads up, so I can prepare."

Eddie almost feels guilty, basking in his joy when Steve was sinking into something else. He thinks, if he were a kid still, if he hadn't died, hadn't lost everything and managed to get it all back, he'd be angry. But he's not. He's not, and he did, and it's late and this is new—but it's not unfamiliar. The same, but more, an extra free scoop with whipped cream and sprinkles, a cherry on top.

"You trust me?" Eddie asks. He rubs his thumb along Steve's knuckles, feels the scars under his skin, little tears in someone so perfect.

"Of course," Steve croaks. Eddie can't look at him, because the road is dark and narrow and winding, and he has to get his boy home safe.

"And I trust you," Eddie says, brings Steve's hand up, presses a kiss like a seal to his skin. "And I love you, and you love me. I got you."

Steve's quiet for a long, long moment. Eddie can tell he's watching him, so he presses another kiss to Steve's hand, lets his lips linger on hard tendons and dark veins. Kisses in his promises to the place they're linked together.

When he speaks again, it's soft, and Eddie can hear the love, living and leaving in the air between Steve's teeth.

"Okay," he says, giving Eddie everything. "You got me."

[antisocialxconstruct]

by the way as someone for whom the ability to reliably feed myself is one of the first things to go when I get overloaded with stress, a gentle reminder that eating anything is better than eating nothing. If "low spoons" recipes are still too much for you in this moment, there's no shame in eating whatever will sustain you. If your budget allows, things like frozen meals, canned soup, and prepacked grocery store sandwiches are life savers. Even "empty carbs" like toast or buttered pasta or whatever, or hell a bag of chips and a spoon of peanut butter is going to do you more good than a skipped meal or two or three.

[bbbbbbbbatman]

I want a Timkon clone baby where tim realises he’s kind of batshit insane right now and not equipped to raise an infant, so he leaves the baby on the manor doorstep and disappears into thin air to do a martial arts eat pray love until he’s sane again because he doesn’t know what therapy is. And now Bruce is not only a first time grandpa but a first time infant caregiver and he’s been thrown into the deep end with an alien baby who instead of pissing on him when he’s being changed can shoot lasers at him, scream so loud it shakes the foundations and launch projectiles at people with TTK. He has to wear a full bomb proof batsuit to change the little guy and has ma Kent on speed dial

Bruce, calling Clark at 2:47 am: Clark, I need your help, it's an emergency

Clark, who has never heard Batman ask for help so directly, knows whatever's going on must be truly dire: What is it? What do you need? I can be there right away

Bruce, desparate: I need your mother's phone number

Clark, not sure what emergency could be solved by his mother in the middle of the night: ...My mother's...phone number?

*loud crash in the background, followed by crying*

Clark: Um...what exactly is going on?

Bruce, using the bat voice: Your. Mother's. Phone number. Now

[heyhollow]

jeremike but it's that one dog photo

He loves his rotting bf