#and that's what i did

[thestarrysparrow]

Me, to my bestie: I js wanna put em in a blender :>

My bestie: what? Me, aggressively shoving lid on: I JS WANNA PUT EM IN A BLENDER

Guys! I put em in a blender :> Edit: Guys I ACTUALLY put them in the blender look

The lids on! They're in there! Ranchers go *AGGRESSIVE BLENDER NOISES*

[arthursfuckinghat]

The Miles We Walked (And Will Walk)

[short fic based on this, also on my ao3]

It had been a long time since John had stepped foot in Valentine.

And honestly? He never planned to again, not after that business with Cornwall and those damn sheep.

But after meeting with Sadie, as per her request, Rachel was getting fussy. The mare knew she could swindle a treat or two from her rider, but this time, she was out of luck.

So, with a huff, they headed down the familiar dirt street toward the stables.

Valentine hadn’t changed much - Same weathered wooden signs creaking in the breeze, the smell of manure and pine, the churned-up mud still thick underfoot. It was like the years hadn’t touched this place. Not much had changed, except him.

"Morning," the stable hand chirped, "That's a fine horse you got there."

Honestly, she was. It wasn't often that John saw Thoroughbreds around, her seal brown coat was especially gorgeous in the sunlight. Quite the horse indeed.

"Thanks, just need some hay and a few carrots for her."

With a nod, the man disappeared out back to fetch the goods, leaving John to let his eyes wander. There weren't many horses here, all things considered. A Half-bred, a Standardbred and a Morgan nickered softly in their stalls to the right.

But on the left, almost hidden away in a shadowed stall, was a horse that caught John’s eye. A dark head lifted, ears perked at his attention, and something about the animal stirred a long buried memory.

His brow furrowed. Wasn't that one of Arthur's horses?

"I'll be damned.." John muttered under his breath.

Carefully, he approached the stallion, hand outstretched. The horse didn’t hesitate, nuzzling into his palm like an old friend. John let out a weak laugh, gently patting it's neck. The big bastard remembered him.

"Long time no see, eh boy?"

The ardennes snorted, leaning into John’s hand, relishing the attention. A heaviness settled in John’s chest for a moment. Arthur had loved this horse, he remembered when the man proudly trotted into camp with it, and to see it here, tucked away and forgotten? Arthur would have been devastated.

The stable hand returned, arms loaded with hay and carrots. “I’d mind your hands with that one, partner,” he warned. “The thing don’t like anybody.”

John gave the horse one last scratch behind the ears, glancing over at the man. “That so?”

The stable hand shrugged, dropping the supplies on a nearby crate. “Guess it likes you. Ain’t nobody wanted it since it was left here. That fella didn’t seem right to me at the time, left a lot of money for us to look after it, but that was ’bout eight years ago now.”

Eight years. John could recall the last time he saw Arthur as if it happened yesterday. The way he fought, the way he pushed on with his horse until neither of them could go any further. He remembered, he was there. Hosea had given Arthur that horse, he remembered that too. How Arthur cradled the animal’s head, giving it one last goodbye, only to join it not long after.

The fact that Arthur wanted his other horse to be taken care of, even after he passed, struck John harder than he would have liked.

"How much for it?"

The stable hand huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You sure you want it? There's other horses 'round here."

John didn’t answer right away. He looked back at the ardennes, at the weight of the years resting on its shoulders, and felt that familiar prickle of old grief rising again. The horse was more than just a memory of Arthur, it was a piece of him. Something alive in the world that still remembered.

"How much?"

With a sigh, the man's eyes met John's. "Four dollars for the feed. The horse.. you can just take. You'd be doin' me a favour, but don't go tellin' folk I sold you that bastard of a horse."

John fished out a few dollars and gave the man what was due, shoving the goods into his satchel before turning back to the horse. The stable hand dusted off the saddle that he recognised as Arthur's, setting it down near the stall as he untangled the rest of the tack that came with it. John unlocked the gate and slowly geared up the horse, murmuring soft reassurances as he did.

“I’ll stable your other horse if you’re takin’ this one out,” the stable hand offered.

John muttered a quick thanks as he finished securing the saddle. The horse was a little jumpy, but John took it slow, carefully leading the stallion outside. He stepped back for a moment, glancing at the ardennes standing in the sunlight. It's grey coat glistened, the dark hues blending once more as the dust shifted. It didn’t look like the animal had aged a day.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” John murmured, giving the horse a pat. “Roca, was it? Arthur was always odd with names, wasn’t he?”

The stallion let out a deep huff, taking in the fresh air, softly nudging John's arm in agreement.

Satisfied, he put his foot in the stirrup and swung himself up into the saddle, giving Roca a nudge as they headed out of town. The ardennes moved steadily beneath him, falling into a rhythm as if it had been waiting for this for years.

“Sorry I ain’t Arthur,” John mumbled, patting the horse’s neck. “But you and me will get along fine, right boy?”

The stallion gave a content huff in response, the tension in the horse’s body easing with each step. John looked out ahead, the road stretching far into the distance.

“Maybe I’ll take you to see him, one of these days.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet promise. John straightened in the saddle, giving the horse another nudge. There were miles yet to ride, but for the first time in years, he didn’t mind the journey.

[koobiie]

shoutout to everyone who wants to infodump but cant string together coherent thoughts to form sentences and instead just look at you like this

[unforth]

Y'all I know that when so-called AI generates ridiculous results it's hilarious and I find it as funny as the next guy but I NEED y'all to remember that every single time an AI answer is generated it uses 5x as much energy as a conventional websearch and burns through 10 ml of water. FOR EVERY ANSWER. Each big llm is equal to 300,000 kiligrams of carbon dioxide emissions.

LLMs are killing the environment, and when we generate answers for the lolz we're still contributing to it.

Stop using it. Stop using it for a.n.y.t.h.i.n.g. We need to kill it.

Sources:

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[bahoreal]

obsessed with this

[spookygibberish]

OK SO I WAS WALKING DOWN THE STREET IN THE RAIN AT 2AM AND I SAW AN ANIMAL RUNNING DOWN THE ROAD AND SO I GRABBED IT AND

IT WAS THIS

[bugbuoyx]

i made tumblr pride flags! feel free to ask for more edits

[foccaccia]

the worst part about being an adult is thay its no longer socially acceptable to just roll down a really big hill and then run back up it and roll back down again. "oh is this a syphilis metaphor" passerby would ask. "is this for a tick tock". no i just wanna come home covered in dirt and scratches and bask in the the solace of childlike mirth

[jabberwick]

Human Bill Cipher

(Based on Alex Hirsch's "canon" design)

And just to be clear, writing dissertations at me justifying why he should instead be a conventionally attractive twink will involuntarily cause me to draw him with even fewer teeth.

[shinynewmemories]

No but the Hunger Games really said "what do you hate more- the atrocities or the people who commit them against you? Because like it or not there IS a difference. If you hate the people who commit acts of pure evil more than you hate the acts themselves, what will stop you from becoming just like your enemies in your pursuit of justice? What will keep you from commiting those very same acts against THEM when the opportunity arises? And what then? The cycle of pain and suffering will never stop. Round and round it'll go. Nothing will ever change. But. BUT. If you hate the atrocities. If you hate the vile, senseless acts MORE than you hate the people who did them to you. If you are able to see that evil is evil regardless of who does it... The cycle ends with you. No, you may never get justice. But you will never be responsible for making others, even your enemies, suffer the same crimes you have. The atrocities will never be committed by you, never by your hand. And that's the way you change the world. It's the ONLY way" and that's why I am sure it will never stop being one of the most relevant works of fiction ever created

[redsray]

the funniest part of any Robin meeting the JL is that every Robin is so distinctly different from the previous one in terms of personality and vibes that the league literally gets backlash. and like, I don't blame them. not to mention that they are non-meta children that dress as a traffic light and fight crime alongside batman in gotham on a nightly basis. i'd also be a bit concerned. Batman, literally The Night of Gotham personified in the League's eyes, coming into a JL meeting: This is Robin, my crime-fighting partner. 11-year-old Dick Grayson, dressed in the brightest primary colours possible, vaguely hidden murder behind those eyes, never stops moving even for a moment: Hi! Superman: That's a child. That's-- Bats that is a child. You let a child--? Batman, deadpan: You try to stop him. Would you rather he try and murder a grown man with a wire?

Batman: This is Robin. 12-year-old Jason Todd, with the biggest grin on his face, about 3 books in his hand, stars in his eyes and a distinct street-kid drawl: Hey!!! Green Lantern: That's ... that's a different child. What?? Jason: I stole his tires :) Batman: Tried to. Jason, stage whispering to the League: basically did. Green Lantern: that is a different kid, right?? I'm not seeing shit??

Batman: This is Robin. 14-year-old Tim Drake, bo staff clutched in his hand, a wary and tired expression on his face, more on the quiet side, the literal walking definition of don't judge a book by it's cover: hello Flash: Where do you even find these-- Tim: I found myself.

Batman: This is Robin. 17-year-old Stephanie Brown, literally blonde, with a shit-eating grin, eyes full of nothing but mischief and the most explosive personality you've ever seen: hiya!! Superman: I give up. Stephanie: I know, I have that amazing effect on people.

Batman: This is Robin. 13-year-old Damian Wayne, a literal wet cat that will hiss at you, has a sword, the most judgemental stare you'll get from a teenager, ready to jump anyone there: Green Lantern: WHY DOES HE HAVE A SWORD?! Batman: ... he came with the sword.

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[post-grammatic-stress]

If you've ever told a person who's had to be bedbound for a period of time that you wish you could "just stay in bed", DO IT.

Stay in bed. For days. But don't get up if someone needs you to, or you get bored, or you get antsy. Don't do anything other than rest. Just lie in your bed, whether you need to get stuff done around the house or socialize or anything else "productive". You'll have to cancel on people, you'll disappoint them, they won't understand.

And if you're thinking, "well, i CAN'T just be in bed. There's stuff that has to be done - I have plans", maybe ask yourself why you assumed a disabled person doesn't have plans or things to do or desires.

[julnites]

Red riding hood comic collab with the wonderful @yeehawpim (go check out their blog for loads of great comics!) 🌷 See the layouts he did here!