its always amusing to me in fic when like, tim or dick (or to a lesser extent damian idk whats going on in his team-ups) go missing and only bats are looking for him. like girl if tim misses the weekly young justice get together batman is going to have 5 to 8 teens/children/adults (depending on if ray and traya come to these events and if reddy goes since trayas there. i think ray and traya are there i could take or leave red tornado not the point) knocking down his door demanding to know what hes done to their robin. and when they find out he's missing? they got together an ARMY to invade zandia when anita's dad was missing. an army. batmans going to have a meta on every street corner in three hours whether he wants them there or not like??? girl tim "unlike batman i have friends" drake is not only missed by the bats
idk the titans well enough to say anything specific about if dick went missing however i just dont buy that they wouldnt notice and i double dont buy that they wouldnt muscle their way into the search. like be serious.... donna troy? roy harper? wally west? garth whatever his last name is? kory anders? vic cyborg? gerfield logan? i dont know any other titans but do you think any of these people would mind their business. i dont know them so idk but like i kind of doubt it
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Hello wackus, my internet finally let me load ao3 and by gosh am I so delighted because those 2,895 words wrecked me!!!
It can only be assumed Adrien found out, stopped (or killed hehe) his dad and has just be floating since. It is so potent in his every word and action yet Ladybug is so blind to it!
Her annoyance at first, the fact they’re still dancing around each other even when they’re dating “another person”, the platonic marriage and the guilt. All the guilt he’s shouldering because he doesn’t know and she can’t know, Ladybug’s insists no one can know.
“It was just like that,” he sighed, addressing the night. “In my dream.”
Ladybug watched him, feeling the same shadows that had claimed him consume her too. “What happened then?”
“I woke up,” Chat Noir murmured. “My father woke me up.”
FAVOURITE LINE OF THE YEAR. So badass. So sad
The subtext, the little drama queen he is. Of course he’d say something so dark and foreboding like that in the same conversation he asked to platonically marry LB and have platonic children together.
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
helloo my dear sizzle <33 i'm so happy to hear you liked my little wish fulfillment angst fic <333
i've seen a ton of speculation about just what exactly is going on with chat noir in rest your head (upon my shoulder) hehe. all i can say is, i wrote it to be pretty open for reader interpretation >;)) there's definitely evidence to support a couple of theories isn't there? yours are pretty solid, 100/10, excellent job close reading!
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Well the stranger things finale was fun! I have been through so many emotions today, but I needed that distraction I think.
My one(? at least) complaint is that Max got got.
Like.... maybe El brought her back to life (question mark is she actually alive or just her body?), and maybe she'll recover and she has her friends around her when/if she wakes up, but she was got.
She died.
The depression won.
And that sucks. I think most of all I wanted Max to be okay, to show that you're able to heal from that dark place, y'know? And it sucks that she didn't.
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like... to get an idea of what all id need to do. for anyone curious ig and also to just... totally beat the allegations of yucky little beast:
survey the damage... bc shes obviously in VERY bad shape. so id need to see if i could even get her eyes out or if id maybe. need to dremel into them to get them free so i could start on faceup removal
get the eyes out. this is very scary bc of the hot glue and also the mysterious gray substance. if it IS apoxie sculpt like i think it is then good god. thats going to be the worst 7 bucks ive ever spent or smth
clean the head. im really hoping that its dirt and not.. the alternative on the forehead and other parts of the face. if it IS some mold or fungus, ive got pony experience here (as in. i have dealt with that a few times on MLP) so I'm not... too worried? My guess is its surface level grime that should go away w the faceup being removed.
attempt to remove the faceup. the paint rly looks like it goes ALL the way around her head (poor thang) so ill probably test with acetone at the back of her head. for whatever reason i feel very much like her head has to be fragile so id rather test the more strong/easy to use chemical in a lesser seen spot. i really do not want to be scrubbing with rubbing alcohol for 5 years. bc the faceup looks like at LEAST a few layers of paint with a bad sealant so (as someone whos removed two full body resin paint jobs) i know acetone would be quickest (but alcohol is safest. but we will see)
assess the damage AGAIN. i predict that she is severely yellowed (due to the cracks on the cheek) but the question of if it is either just. in those spots where the faceup cracked or if its all over is really unsure. i mainly want to get her to try retrobrighting (which ive done on older MLP with great success and it seems to be something that works for this kind of vinyl as well) on her and just. fix up a doll that is beyond repair for most people lol. from what ive experienced with resin, i think the yellowing could either be all over (and the head was painted to try and hide this. although this clearly did not go well lol, altho i think its a sealant issue and not a paint issue, as it kind of looks like when ive fucked up with MSC (a common sealant for bjds)) or it could be just... shes been in sunlight and where the paint cracked got unevenly yellowed (i experienced this most recently with my big blue boy, where all the blue paint kind of. protected his resin and the non covered parts got more yellow). so its kind of a toss up. or a mysterious third thing you never know.
once shes all clean (which i assume will take a while due to well... how bad of shape that she is in), ill probably sit with it for a few days and then get milliput and sculpt a new nose. this will not be fun for me i think because I just... am not a sculpting fan (funny thing when this project WILL have a lot of sculpting) and much prefer sanding. I'm not too mad about the chin being sanded down (as the original had an INSANELY pointed chin which I really didn't like. I hate sanding vinyl so this works for me) or the eyes being opened (other than.. having to figure out the size on my own and pray for the best). Most of the mods are not... bad to me and are partially why I'm drawn to miss yucky bc like... the diseases but also the fact that the mods do mostly make the head cuter for me
Redo the faceup. I would love to keep the elements of the original with the big eyelashes as I find them cute, but the BIGGEST order of business is eyebrows good god. I'll have to paint over the mod that I did but I'm not super worried about it (maybe falsely I've never painted a vinyl head in full bc I have exactly one vinyl doll) and then hope i can get the head right on the first try. depending on how bad the yellowing is (and if im able to retrobright her to a lighter skin tone, as the body i have is pretty light (altho it doesnt match any skins from this company so. its a whole thing its ok)) i might just paint the whole head (or even come up with a story or reason why its mismatched. I have a lot of heads and bodies like that so I don't mind fully lol). It's just kind of a scary tossup on how bad of shape everything is.
Done <3 i really dont think itll be TOO bad but i also like... think i wont know fully until i get my hands on her if i do. She would be pretty tiny too (as in 45 cm or so, or for the americans, 1.5 ft) but I do love that scale of doll so. it could work.
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
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