#and they will live up to that

[maudiemoods]

If life is a never ending loop of dirty dishes and laundry then that means life is a never ending loop of home cooked meals and comfy clean clothes

[yourmajestybee]

EVERYONE NEEDS TO LOOK AT HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON UNTRAINABLE THE STAGE PLAY RN

[redsray]

I love this. They are all protective of innocent citizens in their own way, no matter whether they're in costume or not.

Dick during galas with one woman on each side of him already, but if he sees any other one feeling unsafe he's just like 'oh, no problem, the more the merrier!' and he will make any creepy men coming up to them the biggest scene he can to get them to go away. Even if he has to inflict some physical harm to do it.

Jason who doesn't tend to go the playboy or fake relationship route but can and will play the protective relative if approached by a scared person. Oh, you're trying to creep on this poor girl? Hardly, that's his cousin now. Never heard of her? Now you have. She's with him and one more word out of you and you get a punch to the face.

Tim running errands in the WE offices and noticing that most employees lose some tension whenever he enters the room, as if knowing nothing can happen while he's there. He immediately gets suspicious and the creep responsible for making them all uncomfortable is fired by the end of the week. The secretaries are free to interrupt whatever he's doing, no matter how important, if a customer or the like is making them feel unsafe. Tim will glare and will sue.

Damian, seeing a group of guys eyeing some of his classmates in frankly disgusting ways and just... stepping in front of them to block their vision. 'Accidentally,' of course. He sits behind some of the girls in the classes they share so none of the other boys can. He threatens anyone he sees bullying anyone else; he originally got laughed at, because what can some rich kid do, but after he got one of the strongest kids on the floor in just two moves no one messed with him again. Since Damian joined the school, bullying has gone down significantly. He also sits with people who don't have anyone to sit with, just to keep them company. He doesn't talk much, but he will listen, or show you his sketches.

Duke, who was someone who witnessed the safe and protective vibes all of his (now-siblings) emit first hand, attending a social event and realising that some younger kids stick near him when they seem anxious, too. Dick slides by at some point, asking him to take care of a young teenage girl for a little bit while he deals with some other creep, and Duke is shocked to find out she feels just as safe with him as with the other Wayne kids. He finds that he does great with comforting his own age group, comforting them and being just as good of a protector as his siblings. When he tells this shocking discovery to them, Tim replies with "you've had this effect since the start, Duke. Remember We Are Robin? you've got the natural vibe, just like the rest of us."

Steph always thought she wouldn't give off the same vibes, considering, well, she's not a man, but was actually pleasantly surprised. Young women are actually drawn to her chaotic energy, the loudness she brings to the galas she actually attends. Damn right she will be your over-protective bestie who's willing to fight tooth and nail to keep you safe the entire night. And damn right she will understand what you're going through better than anyone else. Usually, she will be approached by any of her brothers with young women who need some comforting from someone who truly gets it.

Cass, who will conveniently stand behind women with shorter dresses or skirts if she spots men trying to look where they're not supposed to and just glare. Cass, who is a comforting and quiet presence that you can feel watching your back, who will give you reassuring smiles and warm hugs if you need them. She can and will 'accidentally' spill drinks on creeps, getting girls away from uncomfortable conversations. She sees someone getting creeped on? Oh, she suddenly needs opinions on something. C'mon, let's go over there and chat about it. Cass, who isn't physically imposing and generally won't resort to violence, but still sends terribly cold shivers down creeps' backs.

The Batfamily, by proxy of being raised by Bruce (undercover pro, lies every other word) and Alfred (actor in another life and in possession of the world’s blankest poker face), are probably the best at just running with something (a con, a secret identity, an undercover job, etc) and acting it out 100% believably. With zero hesitation.

Someone runs up to Red Hood one night in an alley and says “pretend to be my boyfriend! please, he’s following me!” and suddenly that’s not Jason Todd, Crime Lord. That’s Todd from the upper east side, and what the fuck man? leave her alone, you’re fucking tripping!

Etc etc.

[aholefilledwithtwigs]

I once had a landlord offhandedly mention that his mother had set this house on fire before. He and his wife lived on the first floor, and i rented the third.

Apparently his mom didn’t like his wife. So she set their house on fire. The house i was living in.

He assured me that everything was fine now and that this was years ago, just kinda laughed, smiled, and said ‘You know how moms are’

Yes. I know how moms are. I know how fucked up moms are as well. I have known many fucked up moms and fellow children of fucked up moms.

Attempted murder through arson is not typical mom behavior, even for a fucked up abusive mom

Oh, and his mother lived next door 🙃

[nat-20s]

name a more iconic thing to happen for the fictional qpr community than Donna Noble quite literally meeting her soulmate and being like hmm. there's no one I've ever wanted to fuck less

[liquidstar]

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.

[snowspot]

all the world will be your enemy

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[scramratz]

My hottest take (and I genuinely do believe this) is that most trans women pass perfectly well. They just don't pass as supermodels. Every "nonpassing" trans woman I've ever met looks like your average midwestern cis woman.

[platoapproved]

What was that you said about memory? "A monster," was it?

[chiptrillino-art]

(ID in ALT Text) Happy very, very late Mother's Day!

I am not saying that zuko is sokkas substitute for kya. or they look in any way similar! The whole concept here is that something was happening at the moment, be it how they were laying in bed, how the hair pooled over the pillow, or how sokka was able to hold onto it. It just brought sokka back. It triggered a memory, and suddenly he relived a brief memory. Making him suddenly miss his mother again. hope you enjoy!

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[novaneondream]

Anyways what kind of music do you think Eri listens to

[doctormori]

the devil made me do it

[tau1tvec]

Well ???