#physically active. you get it)

[qiu-yan]

gonna be real here boss when it comes to the ancestral hall scene i am 100% on jiang cheng's side

[aestheticallynotdeerlightful]

I was gonna wait and post these till I had more doodles but I’ll just post them now it’s fine. I’ll just explain stuff in the tags as per usual

Some Raz poses and some Dion and Adam stuff

.

(Please do not use or repost my works anywhere without explicit permission from me thank you)

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[housecow]

the answer to many problems is just “get fatter”

[coolnonsenseworld]

Samurai and Ninja in crappy pics because December here is under a constant cloud and I just want y'all to see them all golden and cute without learning how to take aesthetic pictures 🥴 💙❤️😆🥰

linktr.ee/Mezzy

[grumpyghostdoodles]

The Almighty Sheriff!

Save a horse, ride a cowboy~

[lemon-tea-leaves]

If you're gonna go around talking about how invalid self-diagnosis is and how you should ALWAYS just go to a doctor because they're the experts, consider doing the following instead:

Reminding yourself that no doctor is infallible, and unfortunately there are shitty and VERY misinformed doctors out there

Advocate for the spreading of accurate information about the neurodivergence or illness or disorder or etc.

In that same vein, dispel myths and misconceptions about said Brain And Body Things™

Advocate for easier access to evaluation and diagnosis

Support people who have been medically gaslit in the past and just want to know what's going on with themselves

Support people who have had their life affected by their symptoms (despite not knowing what was causing them) and just want to know what's going on with themselves

Support people who just Feel something Wrong and just want to know what's going on with themselves

Just fucking support people and stop tearing others down because you're white knighting

There are people intentionally making a mockery of things like DID or being autistic, among other things. And there are people who mis-self-diagnose (usually due to research that isn't deep enough) and are fed misinformation which leads to them misrepresenting the disorder.

But there are also people who have the symptoms, looked into the symptoms, found something that matched the symptoms, and maybe FINALLY felt they had an answer when they couldn't find one because they didn't have the means or whatever the reason.

And you're telling them that they're making a mockery of a disorder because they wanted to find a reason. And it's because you associate them with the people on TikTok that you roll your eyes at. And it's fucking annoying.

TL;DR:

Maybe instead of being a dick about self-diagnosis, you could help set a path towards making it so people don't have to in the fucking first place.

(Also, as for my opinion on self-dx, self-dx with a good amount of research from verified accurate sources = A-OK. I'm saying this as a professionally diagnosed person who has had to self-dx in the past. I've been wrong about some things and right about others, and professionals have been right about some and wrong about others. But it helped to set me down the right path. I wouldn't be where I am if I hadn't.)

[respectthepetty]

GMMTV can do another year of Starlympics, but can't give me a Gym Bros BL!

GMMTV 2025, I better see a Gym Bros BL or else!

[dunsbar]

the magnus archives is a podcast about the horrors of having a job

[eastgaysian]

it is just unfathomable how actively cruel people will choose to be because fundamentally they dont view brown people as real humans with lives that are worth something. awesome 👍 i think some of you should die 😁

[fisheito]

NoooOOOOOOO MORVAY NOT AGAIN!!! Two haloween s?? When will you be freee!! 💦💦💦

MR FATHER PLE AXSSE

[blighted-lights]

do you ship ravage and drift? you draw them a lot and they're always so touchy lol

nah. they're really touchy amicas, tho. probably because im always touchy with my friends and it just kinda rubs off on my art. ravage is my Me character so i do end up giving him traits i have. one of those is being touchy with people he cares about 🤷‍♂️. he's especially touchy with drift as when they were grouped together in the dead end (which is where they met in my brain), ravage spent a lot of hours curled up in drift's car alt with laserbeak and buzzsaw for shelter. that touchy aspect never really left their dynamic.

and besides,

drift/deadlock's candle has always been lit for someone else.

(plus an extra doodle of them)

[mushyfart]

what is breakfast in japanese❓🧐

(first drawing cropped and more detailed😽⬇️)

first I lol'd, then I serious'd /ref

[fauvester]

thinking tigerghost thoughts. im sorry mr rivera I was not familiar with your game

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

“He sleeps against his father’s chest, and he does not stir.

Yuuta’s never seen Sensei look at anyone the way he looks at Megumi right now.”

OH MY GODDDDDDUGHHHHH THIS PEAK. I honestly teared up reading this bit. You can feel the love emanating from so many characters in your writing within this chapter, I find it so so moving. Thank you so much for sharing your writing!!!

I actually really like the kind of messiness of this moment because Gojo’s conflicted about that moment in a lot of the same ways that Tsumiki was conflicted about comforting her brother.

Earlier, Yuuta had said that Megumi seemed happier when Tsumiki was around. And Tsumiki had replied that she felt conflicted about comforting him, because she knows how private he normally is. She wanted to be there to comfort him, but she was worried it was just one more thing done to him that he didn’t want.

Gojo is feeling a lot of the same.

Like. Megumi was never that kid that was very open or cuddly. He was never that kid that let you carry him, even when he was tiny. He’s Gojo’s baby boy and he has the disposition of a feral raccoon with a biting problem. Do not touch him.

Gojo knows for a fact that Megumi would never in a million years let Gojo pick him up and hold him had the circumstances been normal.

There’s this unique act of love in allowing yourself to be vulnerable around others. It’s an act of absolute trust, if you think about it. I’m already hurt; I trust you not to hurt me worse.

And I think that makes it significant that Megumi doesn’t have that relationship with anyone.

He doesn’t let himself be vulnerable around Gojo. He doesn’t let himself be vulnerable around Tsumiki. He closes himself off and hides weakness and now he just can’t anymore.

I think Gojo in particular was aware of how Megumi doesn’t let himself be vulnerable around even his family, because Gojo is better suited to notice when Megumi’s hurt. Tsumiki knows her brother best, but it’s hard to hide from Gojo’s eyes. He notices when something’s wrong with his kids, and Megumi in particular.

He missed it when Megumi was a kid. He doesn’t want to miss it again.

So he sees it when something’s wrong in megumi’s world. And he sees it when megumi doesn’t come to them with it. He knows that megumi wouldn’t have let him hold him like that had he not been so hurt.

I think that Megumi was never really that kid that let you hold him, growing up. Even at age five, he was horrifically independent and had a very firm boundary line set between himself and absolutely anyone else. Baby Megumi never let Gojo lug him around, despite how adorable and portable he was. He sure as hell wasn’t letting Gojo carry him when he hit his teen years.

So. You’ve got this kid. You love him. Earth-shattering type of love. Soul-rending love. Sun, moon, and stars. Real “burn the world to keep him warm” type shit. He’s your baby boy, even if he’d fucking strangle you if you said it.

He’s just been hurt in a way that fucking horrifying. The most profound violations you can imagine. He can barely open his own eyes, he’s that hurt.

It’s probably your fault.

Because the assholes who hurt him? Those people? They’ve hurt him before, and you didn’t kill them for it. It wasn’t because it was right for your kid. Killing them for his safety would have been what’s right for your kid. It was just. Politics. Not only that, but the lynchpin of their plan counted on you not calling him once while they were hurting him. They banked their fucking lives on you not calling him even once in a week that included his birthday.

And they were right.

So yeah.

It’s probably your fault.

But you can’t turn back time. He’s hurt, and you’ve got him now, and all you want to do is comfort him. He’s your little boy, and you almost fucking lost him, you almost had to fucking bury him, and you just want to hold him while he’s afraid. You want to hold him until he stops shaking. You want to fix this.

And, at the end of the day, you just can’t deny how much he’d fucking hate that.

But you do it anyway. Someone needs to hold him, and you make it you. And maybe that’s just one more time someone did something to your little boy’s body that he didn’t want.

So.

How the fuck do you live with yourself?

[milkweedman]

Made another spindle. It's very small. Also very irregular and lumpy due to the wood (I wanted the raised brown lines to stay and erred on the side of caution in how much I cut away...but that did lead to a very irregular spindle).

It also wanted to crumble as I carved, so pretty much all the fine tuning I just did by sanding it, which helps to compress the fibers down as well as remove material without crumbling or splintering.

It really came to life when I oiled it. Probably will be best after a few good coats and some time. My woodburning kit seems to be totally gone, which is a bummer. So I'm not woodburning anymore.

Spins well. Obviously being so tiny and light it was always going to be a fine spinning spindle, but effortless thread from an unprepped piece of fleece is pretty indicative as well. I seem to find myself carving mostly thread spindles at the moment. They're always so small and light in the hand, they remind me of holding baby birds.