some human version redesigns a third time in a row? One with a redraw of another meme?
yes
context? no 🩷🙂
(jk im working on a fanfic with these guys)
changes -
roy: lot more scars due to his impulsivity and drive to battle (this was a suggestion from a good friend of mine :))) )
SHARP piercings
i really wanted to exaggerate the sharpness in his shape language (his body is made up of mostly sharp edges anyway. Additionally i thought a punk rock look would fit him way better than his old tank top and camo pants)
morton: morton takes after roy, but not completely. (the subtle differences are important) this shows in the amount of spikes, and similar shirt, but overall softer look
wendy: i got rid of that FUCKASS dress her first design had. wendy i love you and because i do, it had to go
also i gave her her necklace back bc i KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT IT!!!
iggy: iggy was my biggest revamped design and my favorite (i may have projected a little by giving him acne scars but i feel like they suit him - those shaved zig zags on the sides of his head are directly inspired by lemmy's side pattern also slightly yellower teeth for realism, i feel like he drinks a lot of coffee, and as a coffee lover, it tends to stain the teeth a bit)
lud: ...dude got off scot free. only thing changed was the suit pattern and pocket
they are so fun for me to draw now if you need me i absolutely will be ♡
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt
“Woah. You look like shit."
Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.
The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.
"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."
And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.
The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.
If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.
"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.
"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.
"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.
The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.
He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."
There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.
"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."
Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"
"Daniel? Is that you?"
His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.
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Dunmeshi request, Chilchuck and Marcille interacting? 🥺 Or standing next to each other that works too. Could be hugging, or sharing a meal/food, or…
Got a bit out of hand with the prompt XD I ended up doing a scene inspired by this fic! Based on that time Marcille Izutsumi and Chilchuck were sharing a bed in chapter 47. It felt very memorable so I tried to recreate it but I kind of went offscript because I was basing it on my recollection of the fic lmao
^Obsessed with this guy and how he lets Izutsumi use him like a hot water bottle bc it's comfier.
I think he'd hardly ever act this soft + tolerant of physical affection unless it's situations like this: When the others are too sleepy to remember it LOL
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Wait, the tsun event has a whole bit dedicated to Malleus bragging about what kitchen appliances he knows how to use? Twst EN just got the milk culinary crucible, which means at the same time Malleus is showing off, the entirety of the EN players are learning Leona doesn't know how to use a microwave. The timing really just makes it feel like Malleus is flexing on Leona XD
it's in Mal's card story rather than in the event proper, but yep! after teaching his tsum proper microwave usage, he takes it on a tour and very proudly shows off his extensive knowledge of household appliances. (except when he thinks his tsum fell into the washing machine and doesn't know how to unlock the lid, so he just. explodes it instead. hashtag just diasomnia things. 🤷)
I do think he and Leona should get into a fight about who has done a better job of learning how to use kitchen tools! Leona has the advantage of having grown up in the modern world, but Malleus has the motivation to actually do literally anything. who will win
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y’know what? fuck you. *UNGRAYSCALES YOUR ISATS*
no wait come back there’s greyscale versions under the cut :(
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genuinely the way taylor clearly falls hard and fast and hopelessly in love every single time is very endearing. writing "this happens once every few lifetimes" and "no one's ever had me, not like you" on the same album that covers the breakdown of two relationships that were also seemingly destined and life changing and unmatched by anyone else is exactly what makes her so good at writing about relationships. if a songwriter doesn't feel everything with their whole chest and throw their whole being into it then I don't want it
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Jonny, I stumbled apon your blog on complete accident and it may have been the best accident of my life. I have but one burning question I must know-
What is your favourite animal?
Oof, what a question - there are some real bangers out there in the ol' animal kingdom.
As a kid I was very into tigers. Loved those big stripy fellas - my grandmother used to cut out pictures of tigers from magazines and present them to me in a manila folder when I visited. I never asked her to do this and didn't have any use for the pictures, but she gave me a lot of them.
Penguins are also up there - waddling around having a good time. Feeding time at the penguin habitat is always a highlight of any zoo visit. Sure, maybe they make houses out of their own shit, but who are you to judge?
Seals as well, especially when they're fully in orb mode. Just wobbly ocean friends!
Plus, if I'm down the aquarium anyway, I always make a beeline for the pacu fish. Big, dumb motherfuckers just swimming about like idiots - they bring me a lot of joy. Plus I recently discovered they have human-like teeth, so that's a win for team Your Nightmares.
Also sharks. Every week is Shark Week if you're not a coward.
In the end, though, if I had to pick a current favourite, the one that brings a smile to my face even in its crudest doodle rendition, why, 'tis none other than the humble crab. They come in a plethora of shapes, sizes, colours and flavours, and every one of them is just a silly little guy.
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Matching T-Shirts for You and Your Weirdly Codependent Cousin
based on this excellent post by @casgirl
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[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post
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he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
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"this is regrettably the best kiss of your life, you understand?"
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He watches him like a ghost
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