#not from inside out

[pointlesslyross]

bing

bong

i think i prefer bing

bongs just aren't my thing

[cronchy-baguette]

one of my favorite original girls

[shorthaltsjester]

Critical Role: 10 Years of Storytelling

Campaign 1, Episode 115, "The Chapter Closes." // Taliesin Jaffe, in "As D&D booms, 'Critical Role' makes its own kind of nerd celebrity" by Sarah Parvini // Campaign 3, Episode 31, "Breaking Point" // On Loving by Forugh Farrokhzad, tr. Sholeh Wolpé // The Legend of Vox Machina at NYCC 2022 // 8-bit Stories // Campaign 1 Wrap-Up // “Without You Without Them” by boygenius // Campaign 2, Episode 141, "Fond Farewells." // Campaign 3: Behind the Set // Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka // Campaign 1, Episode 115, "The Chapter Closes." // Explanation of the final Vex’ahlia playlist by Laura Bailey // Liam's Quest: Full Circle // Backwards by Warsan Shire // Exandria Unlimited: Kymal, Part 2 // Explanation of Fearne’s second playlist by Ashley Johnson // Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson // San Diego Comic-Con 2023, Critical Role: Fireside Chat & Cast Q&A // Exandria Unlimited Cooldown: Divergence Episode 4 // Campaign 3, Episode 23, "To the Skies." // Explanation of the final Percy playlist by Taliesin Jaffe // "For Good" by Stephen Schwartz // Campaign 3, Episode 91, "True Heroism." // Exandria Unlimited: Calamity, Episode 4, "Fire and Ruin." // Campaign 3, Episode 121, "A New Age Begins."

[tinnedmarlin]

helmetless gabriel

gabriel got his “artsy side” from gianni. it runs in the family

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[hayaku14]

btw last week on jp twitter they were goncharov-ing a detective conan movie into existence lmao

it all started because of this twitter user pointing out that the Osaka Expo 2025 venue looks like a setting out of a detco movie (x)

then someone fixed the color, added "original work by gosho aoyama", and voila (x)

and then people just kept adding on to it, here's a few more:

they got teaser art posters (1) (2) (3)

a movie logo (x)

and a movie poster ofc (x)

btw if you were wondering wtf that weird blob creature is, it's Osaka Expo 2025's mascot:

oh yeah someone also made a whole ass movie trailer (x)

and end credits too but i can't upload 2 videos so here's the link (x)

someone even made an agasa quiz lmao (x)

someone also brainrotted so hard they managed to gather hattori, kaitou kid, amuro, and akai all in one movie (x)

anyway, we've cracked the code. we can explode any place just by adding "original work by gosho aoyama" (x) (x)

[holywholemilks]

I hate when my feelings are stupid but I still have them 😞

[stobotnik-on-my-display-bagel]

more afterimage by @panic-flavored doodles bacause i finished translating it!! and just had to celebrate🎉 10/10 experience would recomend

bonus: stone with the goats bacause i might have died from how cute and peaceful this scene is

[hellenhighwater]

In a completely baffling turn of events, today I opened up my wallet and discovered, tucked into an internal pocket, a current, valid, Michigan Concealed Pistol License ID card belonging to a man I'd never met. (CPL cards are heavy plastic, like a driver's license.) It's a validly issued CPL. He's a real person who lives in Michigan--I found his voting records, home address, social media accounts, and other information with a bit of searching, and can confirm I have never met this dude. He does not live anywhere nearby. The wallet is one I just use for my ID's--bar card, courthouse keypass, drivers license, employee ID, etc. Not something I pull out on a daily basis; very definitely not something I hand off to other people. Even more confusingly, this man is twenty years older than me to the day. We have the same birthday. But I don't know him; I don't even know anyone who knows him.

Which leaves me with the utter mystery of how the hell some random guy's concealed pistol license wound up in my purse

[raycatzdraws]

HATSUNE MIKU!!!

Hiiiii! :D I drew some fanart for @twilight-linkess' magical girl designs. They're adorable! (look! x x)

I love Twi's cropped jacket and the fringe and the moon phase design! I had to put him on the Master Cycle haha. I took inspiration from Linkess' fairy Hyrule drawings and gave some clover flowers to Four. His stockings are so cute!

[omnificent-orion]

one more warm summer one last

[foaming-andscreaming]

I dun didit

I actually love them so much

[projectilespiders]

rip Riley (died of embarrassment)

[starry-bi-sky]

im being hit with The Visions again

the Vision this time is a "homeless danny in gotham" au except its pre-robin Batman again because im on a batdad kick. --------------------

Danny finds a car.

Which-- isn't, like, anything super interesting or impressive. It's Gotham, it's a big city. There's cars on every corner, can't throw a stick without hitting one somewhere. And then setting off the alarm.

But-! It's a car, and it's past midnight-- or he thinks it might be past midnight, it's late enough to be. He doesn't have a watch and he left his phone at Vlad's; asshole put a tracker on it after the last time Danny ran off.

It's been over a month since, it's a new record -- last time it took just over two weeks for Vlad to find him and drag him back to the mansion. This time, Danny ran further. Left the state and everything. See how long it takes Vlad to find him now, hah.

People go missing all the time in Gotham.

Anyways-- there's a car, and it's midnight, and it's parked in an alleyway. Danny would've called it invisible with the way he pretty much trips over it, phasing through the wall of the building beside it and not watching where he's going, but it's not. So he doesn't.

Danny runs into the hood and nearly faceplants right into the darn thing with an 'oomph', hands catching himself on the metal as a flash of irritation flashes hot through his gut. It doesn't hurt or anything, but getting the wind knocked out of you sucks always, and he's tired and hungry, and as a result not in the best state of mind.

He's just about to sink his foot into the side of the wheel -- it wouldn't do anything, he's not that big of an asshole, but it's the principle -- when he stops.

Danny pauses.

He takes a step back, holding his hands out 'n' everything, and examines the car. He squints, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, considering the closest streetlight is twenty feet that way and positioned in a way that none of the light is hitting it.

Danny would not call himself a car guy. He doesn't think he counts, considering his size and lack of everything. But, but, he knows his way around a few cars, and he had an old obsession with older models when he was little that kinda petered out of existence after his accident. Had a bunch of little car models sitting on one of his shelves back in Amity, and Dad offered to get his hands on an old car for the two of them to fix up together so it'd be ready for Danny when he got his license.

...Anyways.

Point is: Danny can appreciate an old car, and this car has an older -- albeit obviously modified, if the matte paneling and plated wheels meant anything -- look to it. That kind of flat top went out of style years ago, and it's got this kinda rectangular look Danny doesn't see often these days on modern cars.

Other than the electrical cars, but he doesn't think those count. That's boxy, not rectangular.

Danny frowns, tilts his hands down, and leans back further as if that will let him get a better look at this thing. "...What model is this?" He mutters, it's hard to tell in this lighting.

Wait, he should see if there's anyone in the car. It's not running or anything, and nobody's come out to yell at him -- or shoot him -- but, still. People are crazy in Gotham, crazier than they've ever been in Amity. The last thing he needs to do is piss off some guy from the mob.

Danny peers into the window and-- there's no window, okay. Well, no window, and no driver. Some idiot left their car unprotected and without windows, in Gotham?

He pulls on the door handle just to be annoying -- it doesn't budge. Okay, maybe not that stupid. Especially since Danny didn't even see it until he was quite literally running into it.

So. Not that stupid.

Danny looks around warily, pulling his hoodie around him tighter, and then starts circling the car slowly. Like a vulture. No license plate; shocker. Hear how shocked he is? Clutching his pearls right now.

"Reinforced bumper. Cool." he says, er- whispers, really, quiet enough that it doesn't even echo. Danny squats in front of the car and runs his hands over the -- what, should he even call this a bumper? It's bigger than his head, and it's covering the grille. He picks at these... things on the side that remind him of leather straps. Probably to keep this bumper up? Like a ratchet strap?

Danny leans back until his butt hits the ground and he can sit back properly, propping himself up on his hands -- maybe not a good idea. There's probably broken glass somewhere here and he doesn't wanna pick shards out of his palms, again. It's like popping the world's most annoying zit depending on if it gets under the skin.

(He could always just phase them out, but the picking gives him something to do. It doesn't hurt that much.)

Eh. It'll be fine.

With one knee propped up, Danny looks the front up and down, and furrows his brows. The style kinda reminds him of a dodger, especially with the placement and style of the headlights. He plants his hands on the concrete -- hissing when he feels something cut into his palms, ow, there's that glass he was talking about -- and leans down to look under the car.

Hm, nothing jutting out that much. Looks pretty normal. Good space between the bottom and the ground.

He gets up and circles the side again, brushing whatever pebbles or glass that could've stuck into his skin off. He's really curious about where the owner got matte plating for it, or if it's just a wrap. The silhouette's definitely sixties or seventies; too angular for the eighties and fifties.

...There's no one here, Danny looks around again just to make sure, cranes his ears to catch anything. Nope, just the typical quiet rumbling of Gotham's underbelly. It kinda reminds him of Amity, or-- no. No, it reminds him of the quiet groan of the Zone.

That's far more comforting, he thinks. Danny's never really liked Amity all that much.

Back to the car: there's no one around, so Danny folds his arms against the side of the door and sticks his head inside the window. No keys in the ignition, should've figured.

Not like Danny was planning on stealing the car anyways -- anyone capable of modifying a car into this kinda beast -- or paying someone to modify -- was not someone he wanted to piss off. Danny's an orphan, not stupid.

Ignore the fact that he's got his head stuck through the window. The interior isn't anything interesting, but the seats are made of leather, which is nice. Must be a pain in the summer or winter, but leather is cool, and gets stains out better than cloth.

No stick shift though, he's a little disappointed.

Danny presses his mouth into a line and then slants it, humming in the back of his throat. Honestly, he's kinda tempted to crawl in and go to sleep. The leather seats look really inviting, and he's been sleeping on the ground or on park benches for weeks, and the car is really well hidden. No need to worry about being kidnapped.

But, it still belongs to someone. And they're probably using it for something shady. They'll come back for it eventually, so he should get this gawking over with anyways.

And, and-- and. He wants to get a look at that fucking engine. 'Cause holy shit!

Danny pulls his head out of the window and half-dances over to the back, his hand curling around one of the bars as a grin spreads across his face. Now, Danny hates Christmas, but this, this is like it came early and good for once.

"You could smuggle moonshine with this thing," Danny says to himself, grinning ear to ear and running his hands over the edge of the metal. The car is too conspicuous for backroads driving, but the engine, wow. What a thing of beauty.

One of Auntie's friends would probably know what engine it is -- or what type of engine it's based off of, it could very well be a bunch of different engines frankenstein'd together. Danny doesn't recognize it.

Which means it could be illegal. Again, what a shocker. In Gotham? He's clutching his pearls.

Fully satisfied with himself, Danny dances around to the front again and holds his hands out. He makes an 'L' with both hands and shuts one eye, getting the car within the frame of his fingers like he's about to take a picture.

"I rate you," Danny makes a camera shutter sound and mimics taking a photo, "one cool fuckin' car."

"Thank you."

Danny doesn't scream. He does not. He's taught himself better since ghosts started popping up in Amity, and honestly he deserves some credit for that considering they only started popping up over half a year ago.

He does, however, gasp. And he gasps hard, the type that has a high chance of giving you the hiccups afterwards; the painful, chest-thumping kind. Danny slams both hands over his mouth and stumbles backwards, eyes wide and his heart kicking into the fifth gear in his ears.

Bleeding out from the shadows is a man entirely drenched in black, Danny can hardly make out his silhouette and barely catches the white glints of his eyes. Fear like a prey animal burns in his lungs, wild and rabid, Danny has half a mind to bolt.

His ghost sense didn't go off, which might just be the most terrifying thing.

The man doesn't move any more than a step, just enough that Danny can barely see him, but he can feel him watching him. Shit. Shit. He should've never stuck around.

His hands are still over his mouth, Danny, shaking, flutters them open, "How-- h-- how--" he wheezes, "how long have you been standing there?"

[abearinthewoods]

You incubate the egg in a warm safe place, not smash it against a wall

This pride month I want us to remember one thing. Cracking an egg from the outside kills whats inside. (And your expectations or presumptions about whats inside means fuck all).

I couldn't come out to myself as not masc until I felt accepted as a man. A nerdy autistic man. Not accepted as a platitude, but actually accepted. Only once I stopped stuggling to feel like my masculinity wasnt mocked or attacked could I see how little i actually wanted to be a man.

Just seeing people call other people eggs made me want to double down on masculinity out of spite. I likely never would have come out if I had people doing it to me.