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#I'm at school :∆
medusas-graveyard · 1 year
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Family, Dear.
Danny is, quite frankly, everyone's favorite little brother. He's shy, quiet, calm, unwilling to be a vigilante, incredibly (scary) smart, and overall is, to put it simply, an obedient kicked puppy. (Well, not really but you get the point.)
The only problem? He has no filter.
...
"I heard piano playing last night, I wasn't aware you knew how to play." Bruce comments as his family all gathered to eat dinner together, all seated on the dining table.
Danny looked at his adoptive father's direction, "that wasn't me playing?" He tilted his head questioningly.
"Ah, I see. I'm sorry, I just assumed—"
"That was your dad."
The dining room instantly fell silent, only quiet chocking sounds emitted from some of his family members and Bruce's cutlery clattering against the plate resonated.
"what?"
...
"Mr Thomas? Ms Martha?" Danny called out to the empty room, where a single piano resides.
A melody could be heard from the piano without a player; a familiar song chiming throughout the empty room.
He waits patiently for the song to finish, and by the end of the last chorus a middle aged man presented himself, sitting on the piano's chair, playing the song. Standing behind him with arms around his shoulders, a middle aged woman smiled and cheered to him.
The song ends; they both turn to the now slightly opened door.
"Danny, my boy! You're here! Come, give your grandparents a hug." Thomas chuckled, opening his arms.
He blinks, before nodding and slipping inside to approach the couple. He hugs him gently, before pulling away.
"I'm not here for lessons today..." He says, as Martha petted his hair.
"Hmm? What do you need, chum?" His grandfather asks; Danny turns their attention to the now widely opened door.
They're outside.
Martha and Thomas exchanged looks, before smiling brightly. The former cheered and the latter chuckled, seeing their grandchildren, their son and their dear friend.
"How nice it is to see you again"
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nariarts · 2 months
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Spent a ridiculous amount of time last night obsessively editing my hand written zines in Photoshop to take away any tiny blemishes so they were definitely readable.
Whatever. Understand or don't.
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liquidstar · 11 months
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If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)
At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.
Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.
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marypsue · 10 months
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Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.
All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.
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egophiliac · 6 months
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bring back zooterkins, the best 17th-century swear word
I don't normally do Just Characters Swearing, but. ...this kind of wrote itself and then wouldn't leave my head. it comes from both a piece of character-writing advice that has always stuck with me, and also my conviction that Leona is 1000% funnier as a character if his dialogue has to stay G-rated. let Kalim say fuck, but don't let Leona say bastard.
(I'm sorry)
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ionomycin · 8 months
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Maiden of Light
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heaven-helpus · 2 months
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i don't think my blog is big enough for this but wtvr I'm curious
add what generation u r in the tags if u want 👍
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we need more hero/arch-nemesis duos whose backstory is being bitterly, bitterly divorced
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heritageposts · 9 months
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large zionist blocklist below
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i've compiled a list of all the blogs positively interacting with the @/israel-palestine-bingo blog
there's more info about how the names were complied under the read more, but just to get an idea of how vile the blog is, i just want to quickly mention that the first prize offered in their pinned post, "eight hours of memi mamtera," is the song used in the viral israeli tiktok trend of kidnapping, humiliating, and torturing palestinians in the west bank.
and the "grand prize," which needs no explanation, is "all of palestine! for free!"
some quick info: all the names here have either approvingly replied to, reblogged from, or liked one or more of @/israel-palestine-bingo's posts. for likes, i've only gathered names that appear under their original posts; mostly ones that have not been reblogged, and some with 2-3 reblogs that have not left the immediate sphere of zionists. i've also made sure that these are blogs who have either liked more than one posts from them, or who frequently reblogs from other zionists.
you can also quickly look through the blog yourself (it doesn't have that many posts), or check out any of the names on the list with a quick 'israel' or 'palestine' in the search bar or their blogs.
there are more screenshots at the end of the posts, including ones showing who made the blog (ani-lo-daredevil / katenotbishop), and the bingo board itself (ashenpumpkin).
blocking tip: fastest way to mass block users (on desktop) is to go to settings -> the blog your blocking them from -> scroll all the way down to 'blocked tumblrs,' and then copy-paste the name your blocking
names listed below in alphabetical order reminder again, block don't engage
2peachy acleverforgery ani-lo-daredevil apollo-enthusiast ashenpumpkin <- credited for making the bingo board, reblogged/liked almost all of their posts. aureatecorvid avi-on-jumblr (main @/clear-what-i-was-seeing) awstheticshit bambahalva bleepiesheepie bluenorther blueredfetch bones-and-crows britneysmeanshirt cannibalism-is-my-love-language captain-navii casavanse celepito chubbybubba ciitrus--fruitz coffeelovinggayidiot da-socks davos-is-the-one-true-king dchan87 disregardenedgnostic elder-millennial-of-zion faggotry-enjoyer fdelopera flowercrownsandfairylights fluffel677 fluffy-art-moss george-lucas-is-god got-chavi icereader12 illegitimatetenenbaum inklingm8 its-hila jewishlivesmatter just-illegal karinhasdacookie
katenotbishop <- the main account of the person running the blog. her sideblog is @/ani-lo-daredevil
kelluinox kingofslush letaot-ze-magniv lingonberryjamistakenwhat lovelyhairedpianist magic-coffee marrymepadfoot marvel-ous-posts masters-puddle <- pornblog mixmangosmangoverse morganas-simp mossadspydolphin multifandermissesanakin nameless370 namiko026 nevleg32 notcrazyiswear oakstar519 perfectlynormalperson psychologeek queerius randomname3 redvodyanoi rhysaka sally006 sbinklebooper scp-1296 shinekocreator <- commented, 'but is this the 8 hour version?' on a post where someone ''won'' the song used in the tiktok torture videos. snakelung sort-of-a-demon soxiyy stuffandatherstuff tearsandice tedious-waffle thebejeweledwatercat the-library-alcove thirdmagic thisgingerhasnosoul timegirl tolaat-bli-toelet <- the person running the bingo blog. mainblog is @/katenotbishop transmascpetewentz tribulation-of-somnolence unexistencerpg viktorrotkiv wanderingmadscientist whiterose-blackrose whitesunlars why5x5
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note: @/tolaat-bli-toelet changed her username to @/ani-lo-daredevil (her main is still @/katenotbishop)
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and from the same post,
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the last post was also reblogged by the creator of the israel-palestine-bingo blog
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sabertoothwalrus · 6 months
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does anyone wanna hear my chilshi thoughts
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teaboot · 1 year
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When I was a kid, I regularly lost reading privileges for "having an attitude" and "acting out".
It wasn't as simple as being told not to read during other activities- one of the first times it happened, I remember being six years old, watching my stepfather pull fistfuls of books off my bookshelf and throw them to the floor in a heaping mess while I cried and asked him to stop.
It was weird. Every other adult I knew described me as exceptionally well-behaved, but at home, it was the opposite, and it was blamed on "learning bad habits from that shit you're reading".
Because I couldn't read at home, I spent all my free time at school in the library, reading with my friends.
When I grew up and moved away, I realized that my family life was toxic and abusive, and the "attitudes" I was being punished for were standing up for myself, standing up for my younger siblings, and resisting actual, real-life psychological abuse. Because I'd learned from what I'd read that my family wasn't normal, not like my parents said it was, and in my stories, the heroes were the people who spoke out when it was hard to.
It is insane to me that there are students right now who can't access books. It is insane that books are being outlawed. It is perverse that we are stealing away an entire generation's ability to contextualize their lives, to learn about the world around them, to develop critical thinking skills and express themselves and feel connected to the world or escape from it, whatever and whenever and however they need.
That is not how you raise a compassionate, thoughtful, powerful society.
That's how you process cattle.
It's fucking disgusting.
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biowho · 3 months
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The first woman I ever fell in love with should at least have a tarot card if she's not going to be in Veilguard
here's bethany
Edit!!! I’ve never been more happy to be wrong
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mooshroomterrarium · 5 months
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umm big stretch or something idk
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inkskinned · 1 year
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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.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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lazylittledragon · 6 months
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'i'll just do a couple of doodles of mombin™/platonic stobin parents' nevermind, borderline graphic novel
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egophiliac · 9 days
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doylist explanation for why Gidel is only in Fellow's non-idle lesson animations: probably something about space constraints and making sure two sprites in one seat aren't covering anyone else when they're not in focus
watsonian explanation for why Gidel is only in Fellow's non-idle lesson animations: he snuck in and is hiding from the teachers, don't give him away 🤫
(I've reached my limit of unsuccessful attempts at pulling them before I need to save keys for Halloween, so I've been living vicariously through youtube videos...but the fact that Gidel just pops up from under the desk to wave his arms around happily is really testing my resolve. D: I'm gonna die when they finally get to do alchemy...)
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