#didn't take

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[whyissupernaturaltrending]

a former US president gets shot at and rather than trend himself he causes supernatural to trend instead because everyone is sharing the news via the destiel meme. unparalleled

[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.

[filthystill]

[ AID ] for one muse to find the other in shock,  hiding from something or someone.  (From holly for Jimmy )

jimmy gets a lobotomy.

Normally, he loved it when he makes the evening news. This time was different. There was nothing to love here. No glory. This was a defeat. This was the end of days.

Out the corner of his eye, traitor. Betrayer. Did it all mean nothing to you?

In front of him, drool. Christmas fucking past. If he'd only stamped on his head once more, if he'd only finished the fucking job, he wouldn't be here. He'd be in Alaska, drinking himself to death in peace.

And after everything we've been through, he wanted to say, to the shape in the corner of his eye, you're just going to stand there and watch?

We're going to do to you, what you did to us. We're going to find your daughter. We're going to cut her arms off, and her legs, and leave you braindead. You have done this to yourself.

"Come on..." Shape in the corner of his eye, flicker, spark of the past.

There it is.

The needle is in through his eye, touches something serious, pupils vibrate, and in the shaking he sees green leaves, thrashing water, new to these emotions, don't know how to explain, holy shit, HOLY SHIT.

He grabbed the back of the chair, and thrashed it to the floor, needle slipped out Jimmy's eye, and he was free, for the first time in a month he was unbound, all that hate, it had to go somewhere. Back to back with his betrayer, he fought like a hungry dog. All snapping teeth and high-pitched yelling.

Fell out the elevator, went through the door in hail of woodchips, cheap plywood, he'd done this before. Carried by momentum only he crashes in, violently blows chunks. Kitchen. Kitchen first. Keep that momentum up. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't scan the place for bodies, nobody's home. Nobody lives here anymore. Thick layer of dust over the pad, but, if he wasn't in the state he currently was, he might've noticed the disturbed patches. The fingerprints. The smudges. He's over the sink, fighting with something, noise coming out of him, rumbling like thunder, like lightning he's through the cupboards, every single one tore open until he found bottle, and pills.

He jams two in his mouth, hard crack, he jams the bottle to his lips and fires his head back, the liquid hits the back of his throat, and for a second he's sure he's dead -- his heart explodes, his mind collapses in on itself, they dragged him out of the cold, the beat him, they nearly ended his whole fucking career, he was blind, asleep at the wheel, cocksure, but they beat him. They won. He could still feel the empty space where the needle was, jammed in his eyeball, he was one tap away from demented torture. Sick fucks. Evil fucks. And his body screamed, yelled, buckled under the weight of the poison hammering his stomach, hand grabbed his neck, hard, held his throat open. He's falling back, against the bottle, against the counter, wipes out the toaster, microwave hanging limply by the cable, clatter, hits the ground.

And it's all over. All that noise is fading into the background. And he remembers the rain, against his fur, in that place beyond the lobotomy. Microsleep on the kitchen counter.

Those pills were really fucking good. Really fucking potent, really fucking clean. No food, dragging him under already, he's so heavy, peels sticky face off the cold marble.

He sleeps in the shower for five hours.

It's dark when he wakes up, he feels like a new man, in the grips of morphine and whatever spirit was still swirling around his mind. Luckily he's in a towel when he comes out, now aware he's not alone, figure on his couch, small frame, he knew her. No, not Molly, the other one. The smaller one. Holly. That's it. Holly. He knew her shape, before he knew her name.

He didn't say nothing. Just moved to the end of the couch, perched himself there, started rolling a blunt. Press of a button, bathed in the light of the flat-screen. Normally, he loved it when he makes the evening news. This time was different. There was nothing to love here. No glory. This was a defeat. This was the end of days.

Armed and dangerous. He'd shot his way out of there. Stupid to still be in the city. Knew Dmitri would be out of here. Nobody knew about this place. It was safe.

"Just hope it wasn't all in vein," he says, before his tongue flicks out, "this is it man," blunt in his mouth, he had time to burn, to recover, even without a door. Pigs didn't know shit. He was sure of it. Certain. Still. Light in the lobby, only place illuminated. "It was nearly all for nothing, nearly slipped through my fingers," thick cloud huffed out, sweet burn, her arms wrap around him, shhh it's okay, in his ear, "you know a brain doctor?" He asked, bluntly, as the worry set in, "I was almost fucked, Holly, you get me," poked his eye, laughed, "they almost fucking had me."

[uncanny-tranny]

I think so many people are so deeply alienated from themselves that they have no clue how to exercise their free will and autonomy. For some, this alienation runs so deep that they are afraid of their own autonomy and humanity. It is completely understandable why one would have those feelings, but it can be worrisome.

I want to help others who feel this way, so here are small things I have done to exercise my free will:

Add "guilty pleasure" songs to playlists and actually listen to them (I have a ton of late 1990s-early 2000s music I listen to now proudly that I never listened to in the past out of shame)

Getting the décor item, bath set, bed spread, ect. in the patterns you like, even if it's "childish" (I got a dinosaur-themed wastebasket from the kids' décor section and I adore it)

Taking a new route to get to a place you go to often

Eat dessert first

Celebrate well, and often

Collect things that are "odd" or don't seem like an "acceptable" thing to collect (somebody on my "for you" page collects dandelion crayola crayons and it was so cool!!!!!!)

Incorporate one new piece in an outfit you wear frequently (e.g., a new chain, a necklace, ribbons, bracelets, ect.). Challenge yourself to add onto the outfits if you feel up for it.

Sing along to songs without worrying that you sound "good" or your intonation is completely accurate

Read a book from a genre you weren't allowed to read as a kid (comics, thrillers, mysteries, anything!)

Walk without having a specific destination or goal

Pick up a new craft without expecting yourself to master it or to ever be "good" enough. Get your hands messy.

I don't want to shame anybody for not feeling as though they have free will or that they are exempt from exercising it. However, I wanted to give ideas so that you might read this list and find your own ways to express your intrinsic autonomy and will. You deserve to be a person, to feel alive, not just living. That is what our lives are for.

[roninkairi]

You can only reblog this today.*

*PLEASE READ THE TAGS

[sparrowlucero]

The greatest injustice ever faced is that I almost certainly started the still thriving "clown husbandry" tag on here, but any discussion about it (from a know your meme page to a youtube video with 500k views) says it's a joke of "unknown origin" or credited to this post, likely bouncing off of mine (which was actively circulating at the time with like 30k notes):

This is a tragedy for many reasons, most of all because it wasn't just an offhand joke but actually a direct response to some of the funniest online hate I ever got:

They're erasing the truest history of tumblr: its desperate need to seethe and argue over every obvious joke with more than 10 notes.

anyways here is the canonical pet clown. according to me

[pangur-and-grim]

I was worried last weekend, because I thought the dog might stress Belphie out. turns out.......I had it the wrong way around.

[barghest-land]

3 days in the arctic. not much time to draw, but a lot to see 🌠 kola peninsula, august '24

[secondbeatsongs]

for anyone too young to know this: watching The Truman Show is a vastly different experience now, compared to how it was before youtube and social media influencers became normal

before it was like, "what a horrifying thing to do to a human being! to take away their autonomy and privacy, all for the sake of profits! to create fake scenarios for them to react to, just to retain viewership! to ruin their happiness just so some corporate entity could harvest money from their very humanity! how could anyone do something so evil?"

and now it's like, "ah, yeah. this is still deeply fucked up, but it's pretty much what every influencer has been doing to their kids for a decade now. probably bad that we've normalized this experience"

[nabesthetics]

[inkskinned]

having good & true friends will literally save and protect you in a million unfathomable ways. like okay we have written so many times about lovers. but the way a platonic friend laughs and cries with you. the way they hold your hand at 14 years old and at 34. the way they keep a little silver tie to you, touching base over and over and over. how you can go years without talking, only to re-meet and discover: oh shit! you're still cool!

there are people who have been in my life for more than half of it, and i have loved every version of them. do you know how fucking beautiful that is. yeah love will save the world. but the way friends love you is gonna save the you.

[silvermoon424]

This is a subject that really interests me because I (28 years old) had computer classes in grade school where learning how to efficiently type was a big focus. As a result I have a very high WPM (words per minute) count and am an excellent touch typer.

However, I've heard that they started phasing out computer classes in a lot of schools because it's assumed that kids/teenagers already know how to use a computer in this day and age. But smartphones are more popular than computers now, and as result a lot of Gen Z/Gen Alpha kids are able to text very quickly but their typing skills aren't as good.

[eggsistential-breakdown]

tdp season 6 shitpost doodles

[rin-hanarin]

Dragon Age: The Praise Kink Simulator

[draconym]

Last night I had a dream that I was at the grocery store buying produce to mail to my spouse in Oregon. I was dead set on sending him a box of apples, but every single apple I picked up had this face on it when I turned it around.

I ended up not being able to find any faceless produce to send him. I was worried he wouldn't consider them vegan if they had faces.