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PMMM Precure AU! It was fun trying to keep their outfits recognizable while trying to make them look more cohesive. Homura's is definitely the most changed, so I hope it still looks enough like her???
The themes would be gemstones, jewelry, and wishes. I'd probably have their Cure names be gemstones, maybe Opal/Morganite, Sapphire/Turquoise, Topaz/Citrine, Ruby, Amethyst, but I'm not strongly attached... Transformation item is supposed to be like a little faberge egg style jewelry box with the ring as a key TroRouge style!
Vague plot idea: There's a big important magic gem that can grant any wish, guarded by the Kyubeys for generations. The last person who successfully used it was a princess centuries back, but she vanished mysteriously and no one remembers what she wished for anymore... (Definitely she was NOT lost in time and will NOT show up later on with her own thoughts on if the Precure are doing things correctly...)
To activate it, you need to gather enough energy from granting people's wishes. Recently there's a coven of witches going around bespelling people into serving them and stealing their wish energy... Unclear on the end goal, but it doesn't look great! So one baby Kyubey heads off alone to try and awaken the Precure to fight them off and claim the big wish for themselves, to maybe bring back the princess???
Possibly Sayaka becomes a witch for a while, probably due to being disillusioned by actually meeting The Princess plus realizing the Kyubeys have not been totally honest. Kyoko's backstory is not quite as harsh as canon (also she didn't have magic to accidentally brainwash people), so instead her dad just became erratic to the point of losing custody, so she + Momo are growing up in an orphanage/foster care... Definitely the elder Kyubey is up to something...
#pmmm#precure#art#HOLY PEAK!!#this is amazing i really really like it#mami my fav... She's so awesome here....
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"fruit has sugar" warning post reminds me of my coworker who told me to make sure I don't get "addicted to fruit". yeah i'm also addicted to a nice walk on the beach
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I love the salute emoji. Im your loyal something
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Happy 10th birthday to the best tweet of all time.
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Joy Sullivan, “If I Had a Hundred Lives to Live”, Instructions for Traveling West
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The world feels heavier these days. War and hate creep further into places once thought safe, and destruction—of forests, of lives, of hope—seems to be the one thing we’ve truly mastered. Whether it's bombs falling or ancient trees cut down or love denied out of fear or ignorance, the ache of it all is relentless. I won’t pretend I’m above it. Most days, I feel it in my bones. The despair. The helplessness. The creeping sense that we are losing something we won’t be able to get back.
But today, I did what I often do when it’s too much: I took my camera and went to the forest. I sat on a rock, as I’ve done so many times before, heart heavy with doubt. And then, from the green hush beside me, came a soft chirp. I turned, and there she was—a tiny fledgling robin, newly launched into the world. She didn’t know anything of war or hate or vanishing trees. She only knew that I was there, strange and still, and worth a closer look.
She hopped and fluttered from branch to branch, curious and bold in the way only young creatures can be. And in that brief moment, there were no headlines, no grief, no fear. Just a small bird being a bird. And me, being a person. Quietly alive.
I know her life will be hard. So will mine. So will yours, perhaps. But for that moment, the world paused, and there was joy. And I thought—yes. I can live another day. I hope you can too. European Robin/rödhake. Värmland, Sweden (June 22, 2025).
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i’m obsessed with how every single person can be stupid in their own special way and infinitely smart in another. simultaneously
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looking beautiful in the sunlight with mama ❤️
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a detailed list of things i hate
hot weather
high temperatures
heat
warmer than average conditions
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An Atlantic puffin (Fratercula arctica) hunts for fish in Newfoundland, Canada
by Gregory Smith
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Adam Zagajewski, tr. by Clare Cavanagh, from "Try to Praise the Mutilated World”
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