#the positivity is killing me

[sergle]

the threshold has been crossed, it is now springtime!!

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[pigdemonart]

Oops 😬

Just some thoughts after watching the movie heheh. Nothing here is a spoiler though! Its mostly just Bowser’s demeanor HAHA

Like my art? Please consider tipping!

[twinstxrs]

so much happened in this whole episode but i’m still on fig infiltrating ruben’s dream, making it look like the place where his friend was murdered, and then disguising herself as kipperlilly & repeatedly saying different variants of “somebody needs to take the fall for this, and it’s not going to be me. it’s going to be you.” while adaine as the elven oracle shows up next to her. can you imagine waking up from that, the idea of a horrible truth being pinned on you by your friend to save her own skin while the personification of fate and destiny stands there, almost as a promise that this is GOING to happen to you. we don’t even know if this kid is guilty. my god.

[liesmyth]

My Coronabeth Dominant Twin manifesto is simple and it's as follows: there's no way the twins could have planned for Canaan House.

John requesting new Lyctors wasn't something anyone in the Houses would've expected to happen in their lifetimes with any meaningful probability. This means that when the Tridentarii started the double necromancer ruse, they expected to carry on for life. It was an arrangement that benefited Corona vastly more than Ianthe.

What Ianthe got out of it, as far as we know: Corona would rule Ida, which she isn't keen on (as per NtN). But it also meant that Ianthe signed up for a life in her sister's shadow, with everyone regarding Corona as the perfect heir and Ianthe as the lame spare. Worse, for Ianthe, everyone believed Corona was the better flesh magician (as per As Yet Unsent). There's a lot more in for Corona in this arrangement and a lifetime of mild humiliation for Ianthe. As we see during the reveal in GtN, she was just dying to tell anyone that SHE is the necromantic genius of the pair, actually.

On their relationship with Babs: in GtN, Gideon notices that Babs obeys Ianthe's orders over Corona's. She also notices that Corona looks shocked about this — to me, this means that it's NOT something Coronabeth is used to. Pre-Canaan House, they are equals in their ruse. At Canaan House, it becomes obvious that if Ianthe ascends she'll leave Corona in the dust, and their relationship has to change. I don't think the way they act around each other from Canaan House onwards is at all representative of their relationship back on the Third, and I don't think Babs deferring to Ianthe over Corona is something that has happened often before, if at all.

There's the bit where Corona routinely threatened suicide to get her way since they were teenagers. In NtN she's doing it to save Camilla's life, but she reminisces fondly about it like it was something she did often to get her way, like it was a fun mind game they played with each other.

You've also got Ianthe calling Corona a bimbo and insulting her and whatever, and me arguing that Corona pulled the few strings doesn't make Ianthe good but as things stand I'm much more inclined to believe that, before Ianthe attained Lyctorhood, Corona was the one in charge — and I’m also firmly convinced that she’s using BoE for her own ends, and we’ll see her Fuck Shit Up in AtN.

[martyrbat]

my secret confession is i think a lot of current art in comics is pretty but sometimes way too glossy and lifeless... it kinda feels like a sticker sheet where they just swap out generic stock poses that they have on hand for that character rather than the art being reflective of the actual story and moment the character is currently in

[leo-07]

[alacalledusually]

Just exploring concepts.

I am not fully happy about these drawings, but still posting them. Also height's difference between various Prismo's forms clings STRONG to me.

[maomango-doodle]

Dumping all my old Strike Hawk art here

These 3 pages are titled "Lost and Found". It's not rly related to any particular event in the story (it's just the aftermath of a mission here) But i'd probably situate it after chapter 8 with the whole Camu ordeal. I wanted to show how Kamui has found people that accept him and care for him while Camu is left behind, living through Kamui

[citricacidprince]

Y'all need to be fucking nicer to men/masc queers

I was talking to an old friend/short lived boyfriend from highschool and the topic of sexualities came up. He identified as bisexual throughout highschool but told me that recently he doesn't know what he was and just preferred to remain 'unlabeled' until he figured it out. I told him to his face "thats valid man and being unlabeled doesn't make you any less queer than when you were labeled"

God you should've seen his fucking face, he looked so happy and also like he was about to goddamn cry. He told me that no one ever told him that. That he tried to join queer spaces but they said he didn't fit in cause he wasn't 'gay' enough. Told me that I was the first person to ever confidently tell him he was queer and that he didn't need to change himself to 'fit in'.

I gave my friend one of my mini pride flags I had lying around and the dopey grin he had on his face while waving that thing around for the rest of the night made me smile too. When he finally went home he thanked me for the flag and for reassuring him when he felt insecure for 'not being gay enough'.

I want y'all to know that whole time he telling me about people not accepting him for "not looking queer" made me fucking pissed. Oh, because he's not petite, feminine, and white he can't be queer? Because he doesn't look like a fashionable and conventionally pretty gay on you'd find on your TikTok homepage he can't be queer?

THIS ISN'T EVEN THE FIRST TIME I'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION WITH A FRIEND BEFORE

In highschool I had ANOTHER friend who had this same problem but in a different font. He liked cute things, he liked flowing fabrics and skirts, he even liked being called princess! But because he was fat and not conventionally attractive he felt like he couldn't be queer. Because from what he saw, queer people don't look like him.

If you're one of those people who would gatekeep ANYONE who doesn't fit into your Pinterest board ideal version of queer from the LGBTQ+ community, you can fuck right off because anyone who would just shut of someone out of our community for something so petty and dumb and ignorant doesn't deserve the keys to the fucking door in the first place.

Start treating people who don't fit into your saturated and commercialized view of queer with more respect and kindness before I start biting off your fucking arms

[sergle]

when ppl’s “body positive/plus size” art just starts and ends with a big ass

[throughtrialbyfire]

i will never be normal abt cicero this is a promise. 8 years in a basement waiting for a voice that never comes. 8 years alone with nothing but cobwebs and a corpse you have to tend both on religious and practical levels. a duty solemn and sworn to people who are now dead - your only family - and a god whose existence is older than that of the gods most often worshiped. survivor of two sanctuaries destroyed or otherwise nonfunctional. a newcomer hears the voice you've been straining to hear for almost a decade. the self-doubt and the grief and the "why was i not chosen? was i not enough?" and the anger at the night mother smothered by the religious guilt at the anger. being angry and devoted at the same time and fiercely loyal and loving the very entity who passed over you for someone who knows nothing of your brotherhoods ways because they came into it in a sanctuary where all rite ritual and rules were tossed aside. they dont even know the tenets and yet they were chosen but you were loyal all these years and yet, yet, yet, yet. man.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride!!!! Living Blood or Lady Mo please!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43

Xuanyu disrobes unashamedly, hesitating only at the last second with the sleeve covering her left arm.

Jiang Yanli laughs. “Bit late to be modest, I think.”

“Modesty is overrated,” she returns, which is something that Zixuan would say and A-Yao would think. She slips the rest of the robes off and steps into the steaming bath, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

The changes her body has undergone are even more obvious without the thick layers of the robes obscuring her form. The extra weight seems to have settled in ideal places, not only thickening her waist and limbs but settling heavily along her hips and breasts, which hadn’t exactly been small to begin with.

She sits behind Xuanyu, filling a bowl with water and then pouring it over her hair to rinse it of blood and dirt that had been hidden by her dark hair. Acting as a bathing assistant is far below her station, but Xuanyu had sent all the servants away and she doesn’t mind, really. Xuanyu is her sister, likely the only one she’ll ever have considering A-Cheng’s track record with matchmakers, and she’s been worried about her. This gives them time to speak alone. “How has your marriage with Lan Wangji been? Has he been kind?”

Xuanyu pulls a face, which isn’t encouraging. “I guess. He mostly left me alone, and then we had a couple fights and he was a jerk, and now I think he’s trying to make up for being a jerk, but it’s a little – well, it’s nice that he’s making an effort. I suppose.”

Not as good as she’d hoped, but not as bad as she’d feared. “Sect Leader Lan seems fond of you.”

“Oh, Lan Xichen is great,” she says easily. Better than reaction to Lan Wangji, but still not what Jiang Yanli had been hoping for. Then her eyes light up. “Sizhui is wonderful! I’ll give Wangji one thing, he’s raised a good kid. He’s so sweet, and a great cultivator, and he’s always trying to help out everyone around him. I’m glad Jingyi’s always hanging around – without him, I think everyone would just take advantage of Sizhui’s good nature.”

Well, that’s something. Surely Lan Wangji can’t resist Xuanyu’s charms for long, not when she dotes on his son and gets along with his brother.

“What trouble did you get into on the road?” she asks, running her hand over the wound on Xuanyu’s shoulder. It looks nearly fully healed already and there’s another mostly healed wound on her hip, a thin slice on her left arm, and the shadow of various bruises that were likely much worse a couple hours ago. It’s of course a good thing that Xuanyu has a strong golden core, but Jiang Yanli can’t help a moment of wistfulness.

Her own core never lived up to her mother’s expectations, or her own. If she’d had a stronger core, she could have given A-Ling siblings. A child should have siblings. She would have had a calmer childhood without two little brothers underfoot, but a lonelier one too.

Xuanyu shrugs, lazily scrubbing herself down. “Looks like Xiao Xingchen picked up the girl, A-Qing, while he and Song Lan were separated and was trapped in this place that was basically a ghost town.” How could he be trapped by a place that had no people? “And I’d heard some rumors so when we ran into Song Lan I helped him find Xiao Xingchen, but there was a bit of a fight with someone who didn’t want him to leave. I just happened to get caught in the crossfire, so to speak.”

She’s stretching the truth to outright lying. Before Jiang Yanli can call her on it, her stomach growls.

“Didn’t get a chance to eat on the road?” she teases.

Xuanyu flushes, ducking briefly beneath the water to hide her flaming cheeks before resurfacing. “Things were a little hectic. It may have slipped my mind.”

How has she managed to put on weight while also forgetting to eat? Perhaps Lan Wangji deserves more credit.

“I think I have some candies in my room, if you want something before the banquet,” she offers. “I know the speeches take forever.”

Her eyes light up before dimming and she slumps in the bath. “Thanks, Yanli-jie, but I better not. Sizhui gave me some on the road and I usually love them but just putting it in my mouth almost made me sick. It was awful. And weird! They’re my favorite.”

Jiang Yanli blinks then gives Xuanyu’s significantly larger chest a considering look. It could be nothing. It’s probably nothing. She hasn’t even been married a year and it doesn’t sound as if she and Lan Wangji have been seeing eye to eye.

Then again, the same could have been said about her and Zixuan.

“Can I ask you something personal, Meimei?”

Xuanyu nods. “You can ask me anything, Yanli-jie.”

“Are you and Lan Wangji having sex?”

She turns bright red and ducks beneath the water for so long that Jiang Yanli is starting to get concerned before she resurfaces, still red faced. “Um. We did once. Well – I guess, technically, it was three times, but it was only one night.”

Well. Apparently Lan Wangji has stamina on and off the battlefield.

“One moment,” she says, briefly squeezing Xuanyu’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes one whispered conversation with the servant outside the hall and approximately ninety seconds before her personal healer is standing in front of her. Jiang Yanli ducks back inside to see Xuanyu out of the bath, in a thin bathing robe that’s clinging to her as she wrings her hair out. “I’d like my healer to take a look at you, Meimei.”

Xuanyu freezes, slowly standing straight with a wary look on her face. “That’s really not necessary. The wounds were just superficial and they’re basically healed already.”

“It’ll be quick,” she says, because if she’s right then she can’t let Xuanyu go down to the banquet without letting her know. “She’s very discreet – she’s been my personal healer since I was a child.”

“Jiang Xingyi?” Xuanyu asks, some of her tension draining away.

Jiang Yanli nods, trying to think of some reason that Xuanyu would know her healer’s name, or her reputation, but all the servants are terrible gossips and her health is a frequent topic of derision. “Just your wrist, okay? Your golden core has changed a lot. I just want her to take a look.”

She feels bad about lying, but Xuanyu had lied to her first.

Xuanyu relaxes even further. “Okay, Yanli-jie. If it’ll make you feel better.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, then opens the door to usher Jiang Xingyi in.

The old woman doesn’t smile, but Xuanyu grins back undeterred, and says, “Hi, Granny,” before paling and adding, “uh, um. Sorry.”

Jiang Yanli feels a familiar pang of grief go through her. A-Xian had referred to Jiang Xingyi as Granny, the only disciple both bold and beloved enough to get away with it.

Jiang Xingyi ignores her, instead reaching for her wrist and pressing her fingers against it. Xuanyu fidgets, shifting from one foot to the other, but says nothing as the moments stack on top of one another.

Finally, Jiang Xingyi drops her wrist and steps back. Her stern visage breaks, a smile stretching her mouth across her face. “Congratulations, Madame Lan.”

She knew it!

“Thanks,” Xuanyu answers before wrinkling her nose. “Um. For what?”

“You are expecting,” she answers. “At least a couple months along, I believe, although I’d have to do a more thorough examination to be sure.”

Jiang Yanli moves to embrace her, but Xuanyu’s face drops and she turns dangerously pale. “What? No. That’s not possible. I can’t be.”

“Three times,” Jiang Yanli reminds her, trying to goad Xuanyu into laughter.

But instead she just shakes her head. “No, no I can’t, I – this can’t be happening,” she whispers to herself, grabbing her own arms in a white knuckled grip. “It’s not. It’s impossible. I can’t be.”

She’s young, and this wasn’t a marriage of her own choosing, and it’s so new. Of course she’s surprised and nervous. Jiang Yanli touches her elbow, intending to say something soothing, but Xuanyu collapses into her arms, gripping her waist and hiding her tears in her shoulder.

“Xuanyu!” she says, hugging her back just as fiercely, her heart breaking for the younger girl’s anguish. “Meimei, it’s okay, I know this is scary, but it’s going to be fine.”

“It’s not,” she says, voice thick with tears, “A-jie, this is awful, this is – it can’t happen! It can’t, Wangji is going to be so mad, he’s going to hate me, and everything is ruined and awful, I can’t be – I can’t! I’m going to die!”

Jiang Yanli’s whole body goes cold and she grips Xuanyu even tighter against her. “You’re going to be fine,” she says, pushing her conviction into every syllable.

No matter what Jiang Yanli has to do, Xuanyu is going to be fine.

[mrs-gauche]

- “You weren’t wrong, though.” - “Thank you, Cole.”

[trans-androgyne]

I love men idc. The world built me not to; I’m not a man, I am a lesbian, I’ve been through hell at the hands of some of the worst men out there, and I am still put in a lot of scary situations around them. But men as a whole deserve to be loved and celebrated for who they are, and we need to recognize the kinds of pressures that are on men to constantly perform, to constantly do, to constantly prove themselves, and the kind of fucked up shit that can do to a person. I feel like trans people in general have a special perspective on this matter and I hope we can use it to extend our love to all kinds of men, cis, trans, and anything else.

It doesn’t help that when people hear “man,” too many instantly think “cishet, white, abled man,” which is exactly what the patriarchy & white supremacy want you to think (though these men also deserve love and compassion and care). Don’t put your suffering under systems of power on individual men. And remember, you never have to prove yourself as a man to be one.

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 3

Pt.1. Pt.4 Ao3

Woah part 3?? Crazy, enjoy!

Jason could hardly hold back his grin as Barbara hit play for probably the hundredth time. It was child's play for her to get ahold of a video of the Joker's death, and damn was it worth it. The footage was anything but high quality, which was a given considering it was in a random alley. But the Joker was unmistakable as he pulled a scruffy ravenett off the street at gunpoint. Luckily however, the camera was poised at the perfect position to catch the whole affair, in however grainy the imagery.

Only moments after Danny was pulled into the alley, a short struggle ensued, followed up by a bright flash of green light that threw Joker further into the alley. The video ended on a frame of a panicked Danny crouching by the body, checking his pulse.

“I need you to send this to me,” Jason said, his smile creeping every further.

“Already did,” Babs responded with a snort. “I also sent it to Harley, and I was going to send it to B, but I thought I'd let you break the news” Her own cheshire grin split as Jason nodded.

“Anything new on Danny?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.

Barabara’s expression turned to something more teasing, “I’m not here to get you a boyfriend Jason. But I did get you some surface level stuff,” she said, cutting off his slight protest, as she switched screens, pulling up some documents. “Danny Fenton, He’s an Aerospace student at Gotham U, starting this semester. He just moved here from Illinois. He lives in dorm 206B in the Truman building on campus, and he currently has no occupation. There’s not much on his hometown, there’s some kind of blackout I need to get past, but his parents are scientists of some kind, and his sister and father are both documented metas. Overall I don’t think he’s much of a threat, just a kid who got caught in the wrong place.” Jason Hummed in response, reaching for his helmet.

“Thanks so much Babs, you’re a godsend”

Barbara smirked, turning back to her computer, “I know”

Jason slipped out the window.

---------

Jason didn’t often watch the sunrise. Usually he was too tired, or too busy. But today he was so awake he could practically feel the energy buzzing in his bones as he watched the sun rise over the docks of gotham.

He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling since he found Danny hunched over the dead clown. But something in his chest was pulling at the thought of them. An ache of something familiar yet so distantly unknown filled his thoughts. There was something about that person that had lodged itself in Jason’s brain and refused to leave.

Unfortunately, Jason was pulled from these thoughts by the loud crackle of his comm.

“Hood, report to the cave for debrief,” Jason groaned, just because he wasn’t ready to sleep doesn’t mean he wanted to haul himself across all of Gotham to the Cave. He stood slowly, taking his sweet time to reply and savoring the satisfying pops as he stretched.

“Hood, report”

“Yeah, yeah, don't go getting your cape in a twist. I’m coming. Though I don’t see why it's necessary to pull me across the whole city when an email could do.” he grumbled that last part to himself more than anything.

Jason took his time driving through the city, stopping muggings, taking care of stragglers on their way home from late shifts. And if it took him an hour longer than usual to get to the cave, well then that wasn’t his fault. When he finally got there, though, there was no doubt; this definitely could have been an email.

When he arrived B, Stephanie, Tim and Damian were going over various minor things from their patrols, that didn’t really affect him much to be honest, just the routine; drug rings, arms deal busts, and oddly enough; ghost sightings.

“Finally,” he heard Tim mutter, as Jason killed the engine in his bike. “B! He’s here! Can we start now?”

“Start what?”

“B, wants to touch base regarding the Arkham breakout,” Stephanie said, sending him a withering glare, probably for making them wait so long. “I think he’s just being paranoid because Joker’s been unusually quiet.” Jason had to stifle a snort. If he played his cards right, this would be the perfect time to tell about the new lack-of-threat to Gotham.

“Paranoia and caution are not the same thing,” The bat himself growled from his place at the computer. “It’s been a week since he broke out of Arkham, we should have heard from him by now. It’s uncharacteristic of him to not have a scheme cooked up and in motion by now.”

“Father is correct, we should be looking further into finding the Joker,” Damian said, “If any of you have information regarding this case, I suggest you share,’’ he sneered, and if he wasn’t practically three feet tall, it would have been fairly intimidating.

“We're doing the best we can, Damian, if Joker’s up to something we’ll know about it” Tim said.

Up to this point Jason had been watching the conversation, trying to hold back his laughter, but a few chuckles managed to escape and he folded into it. Everyone in the group froze and turned to Jason as he pulled his helmet off, still wracked with giggles.

When he had finally managed to calm himself down, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes, Damian piped up, sounding wary at Jason's sudden outburst.

“What is so funny Todd?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Jason said, fighting back another round of laughter before schooling himself into a more serious disposition. “Joker’s not up to anything, don’t worry.” He said. We watched as his family’s faces went from wary, to confused.

“And how do you know that?” Damian questioned further, bristling.

And this was it. Jason delighted in the way everyone’s faces fell when he said with icy diction,

“Because that motherfucker is dead.”

And everyone exploded.

-----------

By the time he managed to escape the cave (and the incessant questioning) all his earlier energy had been sapped out of him and Jason was ready for a very long nap. He was heading back to his apartment in Park Row when something caught his eye. Or perhaps someone.

“Twice in eight hours? I know you’re not from here but that’s still gotta be some kind of record,” Jason quipped as he tied up the assailant he’d just knocked out.

Danny Fenton stared down at him from his place pressed against the alley wall. His face set in an indignant frown. His ice blue eyes glinting slightly in the ever growing morning light that had finally made itself through Gotham’s thick smog.

“Well it’s not like I’m trying to get attacked,” He ground out, “I just wanted some fucking coffee.”

“At four in the morning?” Hood responded, raising an eyebrow under his helmet.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he turned to collect his discarded belongings. When he spoke his voice was softer, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping anytime soon.”

Oh. Jason had forgotten that, even if it was an accident, even if it was the Joker of all people. Killing was a hard thing to deal with, and this must be weighing on Danny. Jason mentally kicked himself for not accessing them for shock. In retrospect all the signs were there, hidden just slightly behind the shaky facade. It was in the way Danny hadn’t touched their food at first. How they were despondent and their eyes kept drifting between empty and piercing, it was how they sat stiff as a board until Jason had mentioned their major. Until Jason had distracted them.

After a long pause that seemed as though it would last forever, Danny sighed.

“I should probably be going now,” He said, pushing past Jason to the entrance of the alley. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more careful this time,” He threw a half hearted grin over his shoulder, disappearing around the corner. Jason couldn’t even get a word in before he was gone.

++++++

Ack! Sorry if Jason is a bit out of character here, I haven’t actually gotten around to reading most (Read: Any) of his canon content yet, and I’m running mostly off Fanon and various character analysis I've read over the last few months.

What are your thoughts? This is only my second ever attempt at writing something to post. I promise I read every comment and they make me so happy to see people interact with my word vomit. Next bit will be from Danny POV. Let’s see what's going on in their head.

Fair warning; I don’t plan on doing tag lists for the future, so this’ll be the only one. If you want to see more I recommend following me (I promise I do other cool things too)

@always-be-a-stranger @dragonfirefeather @thatonegaybitch68 @uraniumwizard @ace-aro-as-shit @rosiea184 @amyheart19 @sadpersonmadeoffruitpunch @dat1angel @tkiesai @idkmrpianoman @crystalqueertea @bianca-hooks123 @blep-23 @stargirl1331 @sjrose1216 @thegatorsgoose @akikkobara @help-i-need-a-cool-username