#changing self-image

[borngeniusworld]

Change Your Destiny

Change Quotes 30 Wisdom 1. “Change your thoughts and you change your world.” – Norman Vincent Peale 2. “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” – Alan Watts 3. “Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” – Barack Obama 4. “Progress…

[artilite]

many many isabeaus... and some sloopis's of course :^) !!!!

i like consolidating my doodles so that's probably what i'm going to do for the most part from now on (^^ゞ!

[asmogorna]

Ok so for the last couple days ive been ill in the head about The Black Parade as mcr's alter ego/characters and i wanted to share some thoughts i had so far :3

It doesnt align with the canon lore that we have (i didnt really use it for reference at least) so it can be viewed as some sort of an au

I dont know if im gonna give them new names that just sound similar to the names of mcr themselves, so for now i will be referring to them by the names of the band members

So far I've been thinking about the typical "chosen by fate" scenario, where the characters lives lead them through a path for a specific cause

So

Post WW2 England

5 kids under their own circumstances witness a big parade (I will be doing some research and see if it could be some kind of victory celebration parade? It's just that I'm not sure if England had those. Not that I'm aiming for historical accuracy atp it's simple curiosity)

The kids get heavily impacted by that event and carry on (ha) that memory throughout their life

Now to the specifics of the characters cus by God they all gave me a headache

Heads up: they're all british orphans lol

Frank and Bob are students/residents in a Christian orphan school, and later on in life are priests in the town church

The reason why is that they both have badges on their uniform with crosses that could be associated with christianity

(I couldn't find any info about what exactly certain design details could be referencing, so ig it's up to interpretation)

The military theme in Gerard and Mikey's costumes will be explored on later (Mikey's medal could be either The Victoria Cross or The Distinguished Flying Cross, and the symbol on Gerard's shoulder is most likely the Order Of The Garter star)

And I couldn't figure out what to do w Ray, because I'm not sure if his uniform design details reference anything specific 🤷🏾🤷🏾🤷🏾

Now, Gerard and Mikey lost their father to war, and their mother passed away when they were both very young

And after that they ended up in the same orphanage as Ray, befriending him and finding out about their shared passion for music

This doodle was made abt that specifically <3

Later on in early adulthood they decide to start a cabaret band, in which Frank and Bob both join them later, deciding to leave their priest lives behind (partially because iirc both of them kinda fanboyed their way into the band irl lol)

After receiving little recognition, the band decides to take a train to America, to try their luck there. With a lot of hope and determination

That, sadly, doesn't last for long, for the train crushes with no survivors on board

The group crawls out of the collapsed train in their no longer physical forms. Yet, even after their death, they still have a desire to move forward. And that desire, though thoughtlessly, forces them to go forward. The souls of all the other people who lost their lives to the train accident follow them, through the landscape that no longer feels like earth

They then reach the end

Walking in one by one people disappear, finding their own peace and meeting their own finish line

After it's done, The Black Parade now have officially made themselves into what they're supposed to be. Gaining a new purpose and a new sort of life

I got too poetic for my own good here I fear .. anyway

Their job now is to lead the lost and the forgotten to the afterlife

They could be referred to as some kind of a grim reaper, I guess

I'm still thinking about adding more to the story, and maybe I will change some things, but so far this is all I can share really !! I hope if you've read this far you found this entertaining .. this is all for the satisfaction of my urges so I might or might not have too much fun w it in the future :3

The story was mainly inspired by this specific post from Gerard himself, because i liked the concept a lot ..

Also

She's gonna be here as a separate character too probably...... Cus I'm self indulgent and I love the ideas bubbling in my brain

[almondpiglet]

stuff originally for seriweek: spring

they went out for a snack but the bus ran late, but a lil rain never hurt no one!

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

But not green.

You know the song Mr. Jones? Yeah.

[kingofanemptyworld]

hey you know what would be fun? a fic where the Royal Guard follows through with their plans to make Ichigo the new Soul King and Grimmjow promptly loses his shit because what the actual fuck Ichigo has already given these people literally everything, twice, and this is how they repay him? recruits Nel and Harribel and Urahara and Yoruichi (after Nel sits on him for a while because Jesus Christ Grimmjow you can’t storm Soul Society by yourself no matter how much you’ve powered up) and it’s the Ryoka Invasion all over again except with pissed off arrancar instead. I just think it would be neat

[jellyfishsempai]

Please excuse me as I descend into incoherent zeblue ramblings for a moment.

i drew this in response to @vaguely-concerned post about the lesbians doing each others makeup meme and it will go down in history as one of the best things i've ever drawn.

i will probably always be slightly insane about these two and i felt like this drawing needed its own post. so to those who have already seen it, thank you for putting up with me.

[vm-haunts]

One troupe I'll never get tired of in this crossover is Danny and co. being more human and alive than whatever human and alive people they're interacting with.

And don't get me wrong they should also be uncanny as hell, but at the same time they're also so very human. And that would be the most unsettling part of it all.

Idk I just love dismantling the xenophobia. They're so obviously not human, except they are also the most human anyone can be.

[morninkim]

that one movie sinbad did about the genie

[findmeinthefallair]

One great thing about having a history of helpful therapy sessions is being able to envision similar scenarios for Hunter.

He and le therapist could be doing Inner Child work, going through a painful childhood memory of his, related to being at the castle, and the therapist could invite him to imagine himself entering the memory: as his current 16-year-old, 17-year-old or 18-year-old self.

Some examples of what the therapist might suggest, depending on how directive they'd want to be:

"What if we go in and help 6-year-old Hunter, and give him what he needs?"

"See if you can carry him out of his room, and take him someplace safe."

"Where would you like to take him?"

"How is he feeling?"

"How do you feel as you're doing all this?"

"What might he need from you at this moment?"

"What does he feel like doing now?"

"What could you do to help him feel appreciated?"

The purpose of such sessions would be to connect with the emotion of feeling safe, to heal some of his wounded inner child using the power of imagination and imagery rescripting, and bring new and different perspectives to traumatic memories.

One of my therapists in the past told me that the general rule is: the earlier the memories that one works on (e.g. from age 4, 5 or 6), the easier it might be to unclog and process other traumas. Because the client's many younger selves would be holding on to less baggage, and the wounded inner child gets to heal a little more, grow up and mature.

I've tried this with a few clients in my past work and the threshold that is the scariest for them to cross is to reawaken the love they have for their inner child (and therefore, themselves). In order to reach the catharsis of that warm moving feeling of love, they must first experience the worst of the grief/loss, i.e. the reality that their younger self did not have their needs met, which is one of the saddest things anyone can experience. I guess that's where the saying "the night is darkest before dawn" really applies. But once they get a taste of what it feels like to love oneself, it's a whole new great experience and they want more.

[nourishcolourwellness]

[summerlimeismethebrony]

[Image Description: an 11-panel comic page on paper in which Laurice Deauxnim/Larry Butz and Maya Fey from Ace Attorney sit side-by-side. Laurice has tight posture and an uncomfortable look on his face, while Maya is looking around in an uninterested manner; a large textbox labeled "Waiting for Nick" points at the two of them. Laurice looks over at Maya with a sidelong glance, grimacing. Laurice turns away, asking: "...Do you hate me?" Maya bursts out: "WHAT? Why would I hate you?!" ["What" is in all caps to indicate volume.] Laurice flinches away from the outburst. Laurice begins to explain, saying: "Elise", but cutting himself off and shaking his head, starting again with a downcast expression: "Your mom was my mentor." ["Your mom" is underlined to indicate emphasis.] Maya leans forward on her hands and tilts her head in confusion. Laurice continues, waving his hand in the air: "Like, she taught me how to be a better person, to— to grow up, y'know?" Laurice looks back at Maya, his palm toward her, with tears in his eyes, and says: "But you... She was your mom, and you never got that." ["mom" is underlined to indicate emphasis.] Maya looks at Laurice with concern, as he says: "I wouldn't blame you, if you hated me." End Image Description]

I think they should be allowed a Real Conversation, actually

(And some close-ups, bc I forgot just how energy-intensive making a comic page is, and I ended up working really hard on this messy, self-indulgent little comic)

[snailfen]

due to fic writing im trying to wrap my head around what suitcase might think of/how she might treat mephone4 after enough time has passed post-canon and a lot of my trains of thought are boiling down to It's Complicated.

on one hand, suitcase has had it the worst out of many in the show, and she's had to learn when to not take other's shit in order to get by. mephone has also put her on the spot a few times ("judge her accordingly", "pick your favorite friend!") so i imagine she holds that against him. thats not even accounting for The Reveal and her berating mephone4 for the way she was made (whether or not she was made to have hallucinations from the beginning isn't exactly as clear as say, tissues always being sick, at least to me??? but she was undeniably made to struggle). mephone created her to suffer the way she has and i don't imagine she likes the guy all that much post-canon.

on the other hand, she's more sympathetic towards him compared to others. she recognizes the gemories as traumatic memories, attempts to extend her sympathy to him in truth or flare (of course, she gets turned down), and she recognizes when he might be afraid to face those memories, or even cobs. all of this is before the reveal, but still. after that, shes the first to support the idea that he'd better go. plus i think about this list of parallels between them quite a lot.

this is all just off the top of my head though. i think she ultimately recognizes that mephone is more troubled and thats whats caused a lot of her problems with him, but also its not necessarily her responsibility to be kinder to him because of that, or to forgive him. she still tries to offer him kindness though, because, as always she genuinely believes in being kind to others and not going through things alone. never give up on anyone, after all.

[fluffydeoxys]

sorry your sheriff is so cuties is there anyway you'd ever draw him again or no...

I absolutely will!! I plan to get around to making a design for him, which usually helps significantly in getting a better grasp/understanding of a character. I have a LOT of thoughts about him but I put them through several 'tests' for narrative cohesion and to see if I feel like I'm characterising them correctly. I end up doing most, if not all of this privately cus I only ever really like to post/present stuff that is either "complete" or "interesting" to other people.

Also, my art ideas are often contesting in a to-the-death battle with 4 other ideas at once. LOL

So nothing you need to say sorry for <3 He's one of my favourite characters so I'd love to draw him more! Thank you for the ask!!

[kawaii-kushami]

having one of those mid-20s moments where you're like well damn. im really not a teenager anymore i dont hate myself anymore actually. like its insane

sorry i gotta ramble but this feels too silly to post anywhere else

[voxofthevoid]

JJK teasers for December! As usual, they're 200–300 words from the unedited versions of this month's updates. Work descriptions can be found in the Dec schedule post right above this.

Chapter 1/1 of lipstick chemtrails

She taps that open mouth, once. “You won’t terribly mind if I borrow this, will you?”

Yuuji’s reaction is all in the hips; they fuck the air, the motion rippling through his entire body. Satoru laughs, delighted, and Yuuji groans, the noise too low and lewd to be just embarrassment, and he doesn’t answer, of course, but why would he need to? This story only ends the one way.

Satoru raises a leg, hooking it over his shoulder. At this angle, it leaves the underside of her skirt at eye level with him. His eyes lose all airs of respect, snapping to her cunt and growing molten, a heat that Satoru’s body echoes with a telltale pulse.

She wonders if he can see her panties growing wet.

Satoru digs her heel into his back, tugging him closer, and Yuuji topples into her with a wounded noise, his arms rising to grip her legs. Frantic fingers dig into the meat of her thigh, pushing it closer to his neck, and his other hand finds the same bruise he left the other day, the ache of it sweeter for the way it’s surely an accident.

Yuuji’s breathing like he’s run a marathon, eyes still fixed on her cunt like it might reach out and bite him.

“You look so scared,” Satoru says, laughing again, and it’s mean—she knows it, feels it—but it’s only right when she wants to eat this boy alive. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Sensei will be very gentle.”

She yanks his mouth to her cunt.

Chapter 4/7 of for granted, in vain, i took everything i ever cared about

“I’m done,” Yuuji announces, voice still eerily quiet. His fingers brush Satoru’s cheeks, flirting with skin and fabric as they check whether the bindings are too tight.

It’s gentle, every touch.

“You shouldn’t waste this opportunity, you know.”

Yuuji’s fingers still. “Sensei?”

“All that anger you’re holding back,” Satoru clarifies. “Take it out on me. This is the only time you’ll be able to, without consequences.”

Yuuji’s touch withdraws entirely, but his warmth remains—so close that Satoru can taste it.

“Is that the kind of person you think I am, Gojou-sensei?”

There’s genuine hurt in Yuuji’s voice, but it’s still so quiet; that makes it worse, somehow.

Satoru lets out a shuddering breath, a twinge of shame in his chest. “No. Might do you some good though.”

The bed dips beside him as Yuuji sits down. “If you want to make me feel better, stop being an ass.”

“I did warn you.”

“And I’m still here,” Yuuji says plainly. “And honestly, sensei, my grandpa was meaner than you.”

Satoru laughs, the sound surprised out of him. “Really? He’s starting to sound like a scary man.”

“Not even a little.” Yuuji must lean closer—or maybe it’s Satoru, helplessly soaking in that warmth—because there’s a line of solid heat against his bare arm, with patches of coolness from the water. “It was mostly out of care. He didn’t want me to lose out on life. But I think he also just couldn’t stand any of it—being there, being alone. And he hated me seeing him like that, but maybe he thought I’d get tired of it too, and if he pushed me away first, it wouldn’t hurt the way it would if I left first. As if I was ever going to.”

Chapter 2/2 of you were made in the image of god (i was not)

“I thought about Sukuna,” he confesses. “His soul and mine—we’d have done that, sensei. If he’d stayed in me, if you hadn’t killed me, we’d have rotted together, and what came out of the slime—I don’t think you could’ve loved that. I keep wondering, though, if you’d have tried.”

Gojou knew before Yuuji did what hosting Sukuna would do to him, and he was going to keep Yuuji alive anyway. Did he really know what he was doing?

He couldn’t have. Gojou wasn’t all-knowing. Shibuya proved that, and Shinjuku was worse. But he’s the smartest man Yuuji’s known, and he’d have only become more devastating, right? Maybe he’d have seen it, what Yuuji would become. Maybe he’d have put him down like a dog. That could’ve been love too.

But if Sukuna had said yes, Gojou wouldn’t have been around for that. Nobody else would have made a difference.

It doesn’t matter now. And Yuuji doesn’t regret the choice he offered.

He has a feeling Gojou would even have approved of it—that perversion of his dream.

He gently drags Gojou up, till that face is hovering over his. It’s not very romantic. The head is limp, lolling bonelessly from the neck. The way the hair falls forward makes it look softer and younger, like he’s only Yuuji’s age.

Yuuji kisses him, arching his head up, and when he settles back down, Gojou settles with him—face to face, mouth to mouth, limb to limb.

He pictures the rot. The dead and the living. Worms and maggot. Black slime, crawling with filthy life.

It’d start inside Yuuji, wouldn’t it? This entire time, Gojou has refused to decay, but Yuuji’s soul has been festering for months.

He’d be the killing kiss, the hungry rot.

Gojou can be the devoured one.

Chapter 7/9 of everything burned, as promised

The perks of being able to warp is that his unwitting victims never get the opportunity to escape. Sometimes, said victims are his enemies; most often, they’re hapless allies he’s inflicting himself upon. 

Yuuji doesn’t fall into either category, but he’s certainty Satoru’s victim.

And, after space resolves into solidity around them, Yuuji doesn’t get to react beyond a startled gasp before Megumi and Nobara turn to face them, wearing matching expressions of exasperation.

Those turn into a blend of curiosity and suspicion when they set eyes on Yuuji.

“You’re late,” Nobara snaps, and her voice loses barely any edge when she asks, “And who’s this? Another student from Kyoto?”

Yuuji makes a strangled noise. His fingers are crushingly tight around Satoru’s wrist.

“Reasonable assumption,” Satoru says cheerfully. “But no! Yuuji’s my boyfriend.”

Pindrop silence.

Yuuji seems to have stopped breathing.

Megumi very slowly takes out his phone. “I’m calling the police.”

“Good luck with that,” Satoru tells him. “Now, Yuuji will be taking my place today! The three of you should be able to handle a couple of grade-one curses easy.”

Yuuji’s grip starts to bruise bone. “Satoru.”

Satoru kisses him.

“Hey!” Nobara yells.

Megumi’s silence is even louder.

Yuuji jumps, his hand falling away from Satoru, who takes advantage of it to put some distance between them.

He avoids looking at Yuuji’s face. It’s hard with the Six Eyes being what they are, but Satoru manages.

“Take care of him for me,” Satoru tells them, making fleeting and one-sided eye contact with Megumi and Nobara both. “See ya!”

Chapter 4/24 of (this is also part of the story) how the story changes

“Yuuji,” Satoru rasps, and it feels so strange to be able to speak, his throat and tongue both throbbing and numb.

“Satoru,” Yuuji says gently, “tell me what you want.”

“Your—” It’s not anything like embarrassment that cuts him off, just the indescribable strangeness of talking with that tongue under his own, and then he can’t not look, mouth and throat drying out at the sight of that wet pink flesh stretching out from the leering belly mouth to bully Satoru’s mouth. He’s still staring at it when he says, “Your cock. I want your cock.”

“Good boy.” Approval, syrupy-sweet but scorching, somehow. Yuuji’s fist unravels, letting go of Satoru’s hair to ruffle it playfully. “Then take it.”

The tongue withdraws, but not without licking a wet stripe along Satoru’s open mouth. He gasps with it, mouth a spit-soaked mess inside and out. The taste is still that eerie blend of sweetness and iron—rot but not.

The lips of the mouth close firmly, teeth and tongue all vanishing. Cursed energy flares, and Satoru can only stare as the lips pale and fade, merging seamlessly into that violent scar that started all this.

“You look so disappointed,” Yuuji says, clearly amused. Satoru tries to school his expression, but too little too late; Yuuji pats his cheek like he’s a puppy. “Don’t pout, Satoru. You’ll get distracted if that thing’s there. And you don’t want that, right?”

“I’m not—”

“You will,” Yuuji cuts in, graceless and merciless. “You already are. I thought you wanted my cock?”

Chapter 5/5 of your resistance, prophetic self-destruction

“What are you sorry for?”

Yuuji almost laughs. Where isn’t he sorry for?

“Everything,” he says, the syllables catching on his throat. “Shibuya—I killed so many people. And Kugisaki—I was there, and I couldn’t—I didn’t do a damn thing to save her. Fushiguro too—it’s my fault, sensei. I’m the reason Sukuna took him.”

Yuuji’s mouth feels raw in the aftermath, everything hot and numb.

Gojou is quiet for long enough that the silence becomes splintered, digging into every inch of Yuuji.

“A cursed spirit killed Nobara,” Gojou says. There’s no inflection in his words; his eyes are chips of ice. “And Sukuna killed those people in Shibuya. Sukuna hurt you and used you to hurt Megumi. He’ll pay for it, I can promise you that. But first, how many times will we have this conversation, Yuuji?”

They have, haven’t they? After the detention center, after Junpei.

Each time, Yuuji thought he understood it, accepted it.

Yuuji was a fool.

“You don’t understand,” he says, lips still numb, eyes fixed on the follow of Gojou’s throat. “The binding vow—the one Sukuna brought me back to life for. I remember now. I was…such an idiot. Fushiguro isn’t here because I am.”

A pair of knuckles brush the underside of his jaw, gently tilting his face up and into Gojou’s gaze.

“We dragged you into this world, Megumi and I,” Gojou tells him, every word dangerously soft. “And then left you to learn its horrors on your own.”

It’s not exactly self-recrimination that colors Gojou’s voice; Yuuji would know. He can’t tell what else it is either, but it makes him bristle. “That was my choice.”

A smile like a knife’s edge splits Gojou’s mouth. “Oh, I remember the choices I gave you. Choose your hell, wasn’t it? Do you regret it, this hell?”