#<- my dad btw

[fractured-clockface]

im wearing a fnaf shirt, glamrock freddy makeup, and a nametag that says "mikey" i am peak closet cosplaying rn.

one coworker said i look "really scary", another said i look "adorable"

[siyaazu]

That one poem but it's afterdeath yaoi

aka geno being a drama queen bc everyone knows mf can't die lmaoo

they make me wanna die tho and that's different

Geno belongs to loverofpiggies

Reaper belongs to Renrink

[jeananasartblog]

"If you could switch places with them, would you do it ?" "In a heartbeat" Redraw of this

[reginalusus]

Ohhh, Jason. They kill a guy together and he can't stop the puns... Harvey is not a fist-bump kind of guy but gotta keep the kid happy.

Process thing under the cut for funsies:

[nightwolf14292]

On one hand, I love a Jason that gets seriously injured and turns into a scared dog. *Mwah*, chef's kiss, 10/10.

On the other hand, I love a Jason that gets seriously injured and reverts back to his younger self.

Jason, seriously hurt, pointing one of his guns at Bruce: “Don't come any fuckin' closer! You just get yer ass out of here, I don't need yer damn help.. I never want yer help with anything ever again..”

Then you get a Bruce that has to try and calm the dog. That sits at the end of the alley a comfortable distance away and waits for his boy to come back to him. Holds his hand out and waits for the dog to inevitably give in and let Bruce take care of him.

BUT ALSO

Jason, slowly bleeding out on the floor of a random warehouse: “...”

Bruce, who just so happened to be busting the same criminals and probably just saved Jason's life: “..Jay?”

Jason, sounding like he's tearing up behind his helmet: “..I wanna go home now, dad..”

Bruce: “..Okay, Chum. We'll go home now. I'll take care of you.”

GRGGGHHHHH I WANT TO SQUEEZE THEM AND SHAKE THEM ALL AROUND

[lvnesart]

the birthday before

[inkskinned]

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.

[pouletpourri]

I know the circustances didn't make it avaliable, but..I kinda wish we had a farewell scene

[choccy-milky]

adult seb my beloved

[dootznbootz]

POV: You're Anticlea and Laertes of Ithaca and your son came back from Sparta after swearing he was just going for politics

[scourgebff]

tfw u go to live with ur cool dad who definitely isn’t a horrible person and ur gonna be happy and never worry about anything ever again cause this is a fresh start to ur new life

[mobius-m-mobius]

#happy anniversary to remembering this actually happened 😘✌️

Loki S2 Anniversary x Episode 5 - “Science/Fiction”

[bigfatbreak]

So! Which would Gabriel/Cockmoth prefer to deal with, between the two parents?

(My bet is 100% on Trauer Mantel)

they're sort of different problems tbh

[lotus-pear]

HIII SORRY FOR NO NEW ART have some concept sketches for the fic i'm working on instead

[frownyalfred]

joke’s on everyone sending me shit because I’m going to Jewishpost about Bruce Wayne even harder now.

reasons I think Bruce Wayne is a Jewish Dad (non-canon reasons, just things he does that remind me of Jewish Dads I know):

he has longstanding beef with multiple people downtown but won’t explain

currently walking around with an injury he should’ve seen a doctor about at least two years ago

observing his kid do something stupid and hurt themselves “why did you do that?”

either has no adult friends at all or has a bunch but they’re all kinda weird so he never brings them up

happiest with the NYT crossword and coffee strong enough to pass as rocket fuel

loves his children. has trouble saying this out loud, explicitly, to his children

can fall asleep anywhere

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Merry christmas everyone <- 3AM, December 26th