#FUCK U DAD

[ignisgayentia]

yooo....... it's so bananas October is here already!!! i'm getting MARRIED this month WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!

[plantamagicae]

I'll check in on you in an hour. You'd better not have moved.

[ 🌱 ] olive eyes carefully watched as the man wandered away from her before she sprung up on her feet and absolutely hauled ass in the opposite direction.

he had taken her away from her exercise routine and she didn't want to lose count! she was at... 32 push-ups! wait, was it 32 or 33?

oh titan, she had to start again...

[distracted-milkshake]

dad called me a piece of shit :/

[vaindumbass]

love all the cute dungeon meshi pride art but chilchuck would not be caught dead wearing any sort of pride merch. you think that man is going to give out any personal information? for free?????

[ohlookitsthearkhamknight]

I love when family fist fights break out in the nursing home room

[yappingbitch73]

I'm giving up, I've tried so hard to be happy but there's no point in trying to even live, I don't even have the luxury of being left alone in an empty living room

[dippypuppyboy]

I literally just need to type this out to get it out of my head, so please don't feel obligated to read this. I hate that my brain is programmed to worry and fear that those around me don't love me anymore and are going to leave. Literally since birth I've experienced abandonment and it just never stopped. I know everyone can't stay but fuck I wish the ones who made me feel alive and whole did. I've had so many friends who I thought would be with me till the end, friends who made me feel like I was truly living, People I spent multiple days a Week with for years. Just block or drop me, pretend like we don't exist when we see each other or talk again. I wish I didn't experience and internalize these feelings. I held onto them and now they make relationships hard. I miss my friend. We went from hanging out multiple times a week to struggling to find time, to talking on and off all day to maybe once if I'm lucky and I text first. I know that this is probably all In my head. The worry. I know they have alot going on, but fuck I miss them and my head is screaming what if they leave too? I hate that it makes me feel crazy. I hate that I'm worried I'll annoy him with my, I hope you have a good days. I just wanna feel better.

[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.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt in Memes 5

Once more, have a prompt entirely in memes because I'm too lazy to properly write one right now lol.

[methoughtsphantom]

Danny adopts Jason and Dan kills the Joker au

Danny adopts Jason not because of the pit but because he sees how hard the guy goes after the Joker. At first Danny thinks nothing of it, but then Jason gets all the core vibes typical of wanting to avenge something. that would be fine except Jason is a bby ghost and the thing he wants to avenge is his own’s death. It’s a feeling Danny almost didn’t have to struggle with, being that a portal killed him (except it was the reason he immediately went to have beef with anyone that crossed the portal. They were essentially aided with the device that killed him and that made him feel… threatened? Frostbite didn’t explain it all that well) so yeah here’s Danny having a bit of a heart attack because the Red Hood is actively seeking to be in the same room as his murderer which baby ghosts are not allowed to what the fuck. He personally won’t do it, (cause he’s never killed someone) but he’s not above asking his older brother Dan to do it.

Danny: think of it as a favor I’m asking of u

Dan: it’s murder, that way surpasses a favor

Danny: 🥺 i’ll buy u a donut

Dan:

Dan: make it a half a dozen and you’re on

[whoviandoodler]

been thinking about pok a lot again and that moment when riz told him sklonda was dating gorthalax (in some capacity or another) and pok just went quiet for a bit before he wished her well and like. he's riz's father to such a degree that it hurts. he died young, got to paradise and then said, ok time to go back to work, chop chop. and he does take breaks to listen to riz at his grave and he works in a beautiful meadow when he's not down in hell and -literally speaking- he does sit down but metaphorically he keeps on going and going.

and i'm just imagining that- obviously he knows that he's dead, right? but the human* brain is weird in that way where you'll know things, and you might even sit with them and think you've processed them, but then something will hit you out of left field and you'll realize there are so many aspects of the situation you hadn't internalized yet, and i think that one of those aspects for pok was sklonda, or rather all the dimensions in which her life branched off after he died. because with riz he'd always been painfully aware that his kid was growing up and changing, but with sklonda it's a bit more complicated, it's a bit easier to process the grief of being apart from her, purely on an unconscious level, as being away for work. he's working, she's working, she probably tells him about her work and about riz and riz includes his mom in his stories and it's like, oh this is horribly painful, that i can't be there, but in a way he and sklonda share a lot of what they used to when he was working abroad, no matter how far apart- they're always connected by their love for each other and the quiet but omnipresent nuptial tie and the state of being riz's parents.

and then he's suddenly hit with the reality of an area of sklonda's life that hadn't been on his mind before, considering they were happily and monogamously married. truly just a matter of like, this is not a space you occupy anymore, you're fucking dead, until death do us part and all that, and she might still love you but she loves you like a dead husband like a source of grief like the man she once knew not a living partner. and it's neither of their faults, it's purely a tragedy, and he genuinely wishes her the best because he loves her, he doesn't want her to be alone nor does he expect her to be faithful past reason and the vow they made to each other. but the grief of it still really fucking stings, doesn't it?

[tiringwritings]

uncle buck has my heart

[suntails]

do you deserve to be loved?

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

so five and lila being a thing is going right next to allison literally sexually assaulting luther in the box of things we are absolutely under no circumstances accepting as part of canon right

[formulanni]

🐎‼️

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls @brawngp2009

[bigfatbreak]

when ppl are surprised that angeal has always been kind of self-centered and manipulative due to his poor upbringing and his manipulative mother making him constantly envy genesis' position instead of actually utilizing his friendship and asking for help from his friend (like zack suggested, and angeal laughed at him)