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when teenaged rebellion goes too far

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

ngl im fucking terrified of how the fandom will act when the asian ccs get added and they are confronted with asian customs such as honorifics, asian cultural norms, and the language itself (ie words that are common in one language that sounds like a slur in another) and i know most of the fandom will be open and welcoming but idk im probably being way too pessimistic as someone who is asian and has seen the bs that people can spew esp regarding things like stereotypes

the disastrous life of saiki k its only a comedy anime because we see everything from kusuo's pov and the things that's happens in the episode are just a normal day for him so he sees everything like normal and even comedic

I just KNOW that if it was from someone else's pov the anime would turn into psychological horror

it kind of upsets me how unnecessarily mean some people are to utena. it's always "oh utena's prince complex is so toxic" as if it hasn't been instilled in her since childhood and is her only coping mechanism against spiralling into suicidality, and "oh utena's such a bad friend" for not knowing everything going on with people who are actively hiding stuff from her, and "haha utena's such an idiot" for not knowing things that have literally only been revealed to the audience and she would have no reason to suspect in the slightest. leave her alone you're being so cruel for no reason.

i know it’s been years and it’s basically irrelevant now but i genuinely love the green ninja prophecy if only for how much it must have tortured wu and garmadon. how long have they known it!! how did they find it, this script dooming them to forever be on opposing sides!! by the time morro rolls around, wu's spent most of his adult life with this looming over his head - this threat that there's some great evil out there that even their father didn't prevent, and then his brother leaves and adopts the very title that the prophecy foretold against. and then a ridiculously powerful elemental practically falls into his lap, with an uncanny command of his element without even unlocking his true potential, and with another threat already on the horizon (the serpentine) and the rest scattered (not to be brought together until years later), that was all he could do. it's been at minimum decades, at most centuries of the two of them having to carry this burden over their heads - of garmadon succumbing and of this unknown dark lord attacking. when do you think they made the connection. the wrong connection sure, but it makes sense. and it makes sense that years later, after wu is proven wrong and his brother returns to him and his son leaves him, and after his brother threatens to leave him again, he'd work backwards. collect the elementals, rebuild what he can of an alliance, and hope he's proven wrong again. and then kai steals his bag by accident and the rest is history.

Yall ever just, give up on an assignment? Cuz me rn, idfc anymore, give me my zero

everything that could go wrong today has and I’m just ready to call it quits for this year while I’m ahead. Not even going to try anymore.

more zombie au :] (1.2k words)

The odor of rot has joined the damp growth of life from pots. Even if some things die off without human aid, there are always stronger elements that thrive in their absence.

The aisles are overgrown. Ritsu brushes past the vines as gently as he can, wooden floor groaning under his worn soles. There’s a gap of empty space in the middle of each aisle that he slots through, eyes roaming the shelves of largely useless things. Stronger stems snag onto his backpack and he tugs distractedly while perusing the labeled pots along the tables.

The barn is quaint, and Ritsu thinks he would love to stay. Moss eats at the boards under his feet and bugs swarm around him in the hot air incessantly, but it’s peaceful and there’s a constant sprinkle of sound to his ears that have grown so used to silence. Whoever owned this place beforehand put up a few wind chimes indoors—they must’ve always had the front entrance open for customers.

It’s a quiet little homemade garden center, or something similar, on the side of the highway. It’s an overgrown property with something dead in the backyard that Ritsu refuses to acknowledge or let Shigeo near. The shingles and boards in the roof have been replaced with polyethylene sheets—a barn-turned-greenhouse, uprooted from the hay and cattle it likely used to house and settled back into the Earth to be a paradise for plants.

There’s a large branch hanging through a hole poked into the plastic overhead. It sways with the wind and the chimes that follow, and Ritsu whistles with the leadless melody and gives it a direction while he studies old seed packets.

They didn’t stop here for any particular reason—a garden center doesn’t have much for apocalypse survivors, but Shigeo has always liked overgrown things. He’d always enjoyed taking care of their mother’s plants back home, and then Reigen’s at the office. His brother likes the humidity of greenhouses and the smell of soil and dirt and must.

He sees the top of Shigeo’s head over the aisles, across the barn. He walks past a shovel hanging on the wall and yelps out a grunt when it clangs to the floor behind him. Ritsu shakes his head and smiles, running his fingers along faded price tags.

The feeling of greenhouses has always had this… wet fullness, to Ritsu.

When he breathes in it’s like he can taste the life that breathes out and it feels like a conversation, a question and an answer, both of which he’s not sure how to articulate. The leaves wave to him and he waves back, the once-active sprinklers pepper his skin with dots, with compliments, with proclamations they are eager to share. The vines weave between fencing just to reach him, just to talk.

He understands why Shigeo likes it, and why he’d always asked to accompany their mother on trips to get new seeds. Ritsu hadn’t really understood, then, how pretty it could be, how full it could feel.

Shigeo had always been right about loving the little things. Ritsu wishes he’d seen that sooner.

His brother ambles down the aisle ahead of him and he listens to the quiet patter of his sloppy footwork, moving around a table of seed trays. His whistles carry across the barn, sort of aimless in their own right instead of leading the wind and the chimes somewhere worthwhile, but the sounds soak into the overhead plastic nicely, so he keeps going.

He pulls back a layering of vines and leaves to scan the contents of another shelf, and then he notices Shigeo stop in his peripherals. His dirty shoes stay planted in the corner of his vision, leaves burying the toes, and Ritsu looks away from the products.

He means to say something, to ask him what’s up even if saying things to Shigeo very rarely results in productivity, but he stops when he realizes his brother’s head is… tilted.

He’s looking at him with as much inquisitiveness as his dulled down awareness can muster, pale eyes flickering across Ritsu’s face like he’s working out some puzzle. He instinctively stops whistling, brain lagging behind on this new info of this new behavior, and the sound fizzles out into a little huff of air that leaves the greenhouse feeling oddly empty.

Shigeo studies him for a moment longer, blinking slowly, and then he straightens his head out as Ritsu stares back. His brother’s gaze lingers there on his mouth, like he’s still confused, like he still expects something to happen.

Ritsu blinks once, twice. The wind chimes call as wind pokes at his greasy spikes, as it prods at the ends of his jacket and fills the silence with a different flavor of itself. The interest in the zombie’s eyes fades a little, gaze straying to the vines around them.

Very tentatively, Ritsu wets his lips and blows. The whistle grabs his brother’s attention immediately, and he’s suddenly tilting his head like a curious dog.

He can’t help the laugh that spills out and makes the whistle a mess of exhales. His shoulders shake a little and he hurries to keep the tune steady and consistent; a few seconds pass and Shigeo tilts his head the other way, exhausted eyes big and more alert than they’ve been in days.

Ritsu experiments, and ventures around with the sound—goes lower and higher and watches his brother twist his head back and forth like he’s trying to understand calculus. There’s something very innocent about it, about the look in his eyes that reminds him of when they were kids and their father would show them magic tricks.

It’s muted by the ever-present fog there in his pupils, but Ritsu thinks he sees a spark of that life in them, of that curiosity born from a mind that knows little. He gives him a simple sensation, a simple experience, and his brother is eating it all up like he’s four again, like he’s new and everything is colorful and unknown and big.

Ritsu watches Shigeo tilt his head back and forth, watches the rusty gears behind his window panes move. He changes tactics, because some sad part of him tells him to, and whistles Shigeo’s favorite song instead.

He remembers the name, but he doesn’t need the name because when he thinks of the tune he thinks of his brother, and that’s all that matters. It’s happy, because Shigeo likes happy music. It’s chipper and yet it meanders, like it’s willingly getting lost, like it’s wandering where it wants to and it’ll eventually find its roots again. It’s happy the whole time. The whole adventure.

Shigeo stops tilting his head, and the gears behind his eyes churn a little bit faster. His gaze clings to Ritsu’s and his brother makes actual eye contact, sinks his own being into Ritsu’s head when he’s least prepared for it. The recognition in his gaze has his soul souring.

He keeps whistling. He doesn’t want to stop, because Shigeo feels like Shigeo right now, and he doesn’t want that to stop.

His brother stares. Ritsu’s grief tints the music.

I saw that you might actually kill off some characters in your lights out au and pls pls pLS PROVIDE SOFT CUTE DOODLES OF THE DECEASED BECAUSE MY HEART CANNOT HANDLE IT- ESPECIALLY WALLY ORZ

Also me, the dark side that loves whump fics: Suffer! Make them cry! Make me cry! Do your worst!!!!

ah, but if i provided soft scribbles Then! you would all know Who kicks the bucket(s)!! and i'm not sure if i'm ready to share those details yet <3

Tony Becker is one of the only times that I've seen that a character has actually been doomed by the plot when people say he is

but hey at least tumblr live is gone now rite guyz

Who was gonna tell me that Yonah FUCKS !!!!!!!!!

I finally sat down to watch it and sudddenly realized why it made people so upset with Kotoko -- it's "get the audience's ass" pt 2 (part one being Baptism of Fire)

What an Incredible, Precise, Scathing commentary on the public's view of punishment. On how we treat "justice" in the news when it's two parties we don't know. On how hypocritical we want justice but don't want our actions to have any consequences -- we want it to be done but we don't want it to be our fault. She makes a HUGE point about people ignoring mental stress and only feeling bad when people are physically suffering. Before getting attached, people did want the prisoners to get hurt and feel remorse. In real life people are constantly wishing pain onto wrongdoers so they change their ways.

She's making excellent points, as well as the voice drama overall emphasizing the fact that it's the right thing to do to get attached. She's 100% correct, but by framing her as a villain, Yamanaka encourages the audience that we should care about people. We should find out about everyone's lives and get attached before making judgements about them. This project remains about human understanding and love and I am amazed.

And from a character perspective, I just loved her view of the situation! I was worried from the bits of the vd people were posting that she was just going to be painted as a flat, villainous character, but she's so so deep. I love a character who will get their hands dirty to make a better world for the innocent characters they care about. And her speech when hugging Es really revealed how much that burden weighs on her. She isn't violent for fun. She doesn't enjoy it. But her heart is so broken by a world of injustice, she will take on this painful responsibility since she has the power to and others don't.

After careful thought...

I am now convinced RVB is, in a nutshell at its core, two twenty year long dimetric slowburn romance tropes comprised of viewing each from the lens of 'I'd die for you/I'd live for you' while accounting for the repercussions of those choices on the lives of those around them while also examining at the same time the 'Inability to let go/ever start' and how it ultimately locks your mind in a perpetual state of 'What if?' without taking the risk of DOING all by asking the simple fucking question

Ever wonder why we're here?

gwen says in itsv that she had been spider-woman for two years and she was fifteen in that movie. so does that mean that she was only thirteen when she got bitten and watched peter die…