#so now I grow it back

[cozylycaner]

It's midnight and I'm bored and thought about dyeing my hair again. But what colour? Or should I leave it as it is.

[inkskinned]

something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.

not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.

you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.

but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.

you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.

but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.

you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.

you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?

you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.

you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!

you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"

[magpie-trinkets]

continuing that "maya tries to contact claire" post, i present you the post-Spirit of Justice follow-up

[lazylittledragon]

do any other artists feel like. yeah you're a 'good artist' because you draw things that look nice, but like. TECHNICALLY? you're really not great

i really hate that i can recognise that yes, my art is good, but is it VARIED? is it dynamic?? is my anatomy good? is it full of texture and colour theory? do i know how to do This? can i do That? no, not really. and that's quite painful actually

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Get Their Ass.

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[buckevantommy]

i'm so glad they brought back tommy for buck. they could've brought back eli. they could've brought back the openly gay firefighter. they could've introduced someone new. but instead they brought back tommy: the guy who was stuck in the old boys' club, as well as figuring himself out around the same age as buck. the guy who wasn't warm or welcoming to chim or hen when they first arrived but who clearly struggled with doing so, and then who came to appreciate them and have their backs and enjoy their friendship. the guy who was there to see how bobby made a real difference to the 118, made it like a family before he left. the guy who was there for bobby's introduction of 'family dinners'. the guy who left the 118 so that buck could take his place there. the guy with the tk initials. the guy who shares a name with 2 other poignant tommys in the narrative for buck. the guy who chim called not once but twice for help and he answered. the guy who was saved by chimney and who will (hopefully) get to return the favour. the guy who made such pivitol personal growth in his time at the 118 thanks to chim and hen and bobby. they brought back the guy who proves that it's never too late to change, to grow, to be open and soft and caring. that it's never too late to learn about yourself, to figure out who you are as well as the person you want to be. that it's never too late to become a better version of yourself.

[musubiki]

doodling mochi outfit concepts again

[becauseheartsgetbroken-hs]

i feel like no matter how many of these i make, they're not enough. 🥹

[leonardburton]

the thing is. juno & nureyev's relationship has been such a major guiding thread throughout the podcast and the major drive of season 5, and the fandom has built itself so much (as fandoms often do) around shipping the two of them.

and yet nureyev doesn't show up at all in the last episode! or, he does, but it's only implied (for all we know it could be like. alessandra strong)(i know it's not but it would be really funny) and we don't hear his voice.

and it's so important to me that despite the room that their romance has taken in the plot and in our hearts, his absence reinforces that the point of juno steel's story wasn't a lady getting his man, it was about learning to grow as person for himself and for his friends (and not just his love interest), and it was about finding his footing in life and being at peace with himself and his place in the world. and he did! his growth and relative serenity is so apparent and just. a balm to the soul

and the fact that his man is back is just a nice add-on, not a necessity for his happiness

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

[zivazivc]

What do the band mates look like now?

Hed's a dad, and Les finally found a shirt that fits him

[the-one-that-weeps]

Every time someone in this godforsaken fandom says "I think we've talked about misogyny enough" I want to hit them with a hammer. No we haven't.

We haven't even talked about the deep "Ruikasa&Akitoya Vs. literally everyone else" imbalance enough but imagine all of the people that get pressured into writing specifically for male/male ships simply because otherwise they won't get any appreciation.

Yes it's a cowardly thing but when you see Ruikasa having over 4000 fics and Ichisaki having like 5 in total obviously you're going to be discouraged. Obviously you'll be biased into creating Ruikasa instead of other ships.

And as someone who depends on appreciation in particular to do any work at all obviously that's going to have a lasting consequence. Some people spend 4 hours crying in front of a screen just for 3 people to like their work and leave, it's understandable if they lose passion for creating at all, you guys killed them.

It's even in how we handle m/m ships. You go into a fic that's tagged Rui&Tsukasa(platonic), someone in the comments always goes "okay but when do they kiss". You go to an action-packed longfic, someone always ends up going "okay but when do they kiss".

Fuck you guys. Actually. This is a silly piano tiles game about Hatsune Miku, we should be one of the MOST CREATIVE fandoms in history and somehow people still get mad over two boys not kissing immediately after getting introduced. It's so fucking difficult being a content creator in this fandom because you always end up having to take the same route. They meet they tease they kiss. End of story. "Oh you're doing something "lame" instead? -1 kudo. Bring me my yaoi next🖕"

[turtleblogatlast]

Something I really like is that April’s constant stream of odd jobs she goes through is somewhat reflected in the boys as well. Like, you have April working at random pizza places or getting a crane license or being fully willing to apply for a job at a place clearly made out of cardboard. Then you have the boys as well who do anything from working as a basketball mascot, building a massive dog park, being waiters, getting a whole band gig at a theme park, etc, etc-

Main difference is that April actively applies for these jobs (and is hopefully paid for the short time she’s in them) whereas for the bros the jobs usually find them (and they practically never get paid.) It doesn’t even stop at jobs either, they just seem to casually amass skills in general.

I don’t know, I like how both April and the turtles are just so ready and willing to do things. Sure, they’re not always good at these things, but they do them readily! In a way, being heroes is just another job (well, more like volunteer work/vigilantism/another fun activity) that they initially took on because of their general sense of “why not?”

They’re very willing and open to trying out new things despite their tendency to revert back to what they enjoy (and how commonly trying new things ends up going wrong), and I think that adaptational interest of theirs really helps them be well rounded in multiple regards.

[puppyeared]

meow

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A new challenger approaches (slowly)

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[cutiesigh]

「Demo WIP」 Can y'all watch my plant real quick? 🍈