#didn't they tell you?

[brassknucklespeirs]

Scary Dog Privilege [Joe Toye x reader]

Why hello there, did you miss me? Thought i'd just drop by and...oops looks like i accidentally posted a snippet of this new Joe Toye x reader i'm writing...my bad...totally an accident...

『-』 It was easy to see how Joe Toye was the man everyone painted him out to be, yet where others saw him as strong-willed she saw him as stubborn, and in the place of being a good leader, she had seen a pushy prick who expected those around him to bend and shape to his will. His sense of arrogance truly did stun her when she first arrived to the front, and though she never really got over it, she learnt how to play the ignorance card for the sake of her sanity; or perhaps for the sake of her position in Easy company, for she wasn't quite sure if she would be kept around if she bad-mouthed one of her sergeants. Yet it was in moments like that, when Joe used the consistent excuse of needing to watch the line to keep his glare off of her that she would watch anything but the line. She hated herself for it sometimes, knowing that her lack of normality had caused her to seek out any familiar comfort she could around her. The familiar comfort in question being the picture of a handsome face. He was all sharp angles from side on, with his sculpted jawline and large, curved nose, and she found herself flitting her gaze over his features in moments of quiet. A little too easy on the eyes for someone lacking any means of a soft spoken personality, she had thought to herself once as she forced herself to look away from him. 『-』

[to be continued...]

[hermit-frog]

[massiveladycat]

leo shouldve learned how to cope with his trauma and his need for validation instead of rick slapping a girlfriend on him and calling it a day. in this essay i will-

[mythicalcoolkid]

You don't wish your disability was worse or more visible, you wish your disability was taken seriously. Please stop confusing the two, I guarantee you would not get the support you need JUST by being more severe or more visible. Please listen to visibly disabled people when we tell you it isn't better on our side

[asthedeathoflight]

I think an underrated angle on 2x05 is something that either Jacob or Assad said in some interview somewhere, which is that in that episode Louis is addicted to heroin. Thats why he has that whole stash of drugs that he gives to Daniel, that's why he gives Daniel the drugs even though he's already got him alone. He didn't just use those 128 boys for sex he was using them to get high. Bring them home, get them to shoot up, and then drain them to get that secondhand high.

It clarifies something that's always confused me about that scene, which is why Armand saves Daniel the first time. He wouldn't save Daniel as a person, he clearly knows Daniel needs to die, but he's not seeing Daniel as a person there. Daniel is just a substance. He rips him away from Louis to stop him from using.

And i think that adds a whole other layer to the fight he and Armand have to think that this is Louis on a bender, with Armand cleaning up after him because he's not stable enough to. Louis in the bed for a week isn't just healing from the burns, he's going through withdrawal. Him at the table with Daniel giving him the "bright young reporter" speech is probably the first time he's been sober in months.

It adds another layer to Armand's desperation, that Louis has been running from both Armand and himself in this way, and of course Armand wants to erase that memory. Of course he wants to pretend that that fight never happened. Not just to protect himself but in a way to protect Louis from having said those things. When he describes the fight to Louis afterwards, he says "you said the worst things you've ever said to me." And he doesn't really know how to forgive Louis for that so he just wants to bury this rock-bottom moment and move on like it never happened. After all, Louis was high, he didn't really mean it, but if he remembers then maybe he might think that he had a point. Better to wipe the whole experience away.

[arealtrashact]

'The cage is open. You can walk out anytime you want. Why are you still in there?'

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[quadrantadvisor]

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[aquanutart]

THEY'RE BACK!!!! my childhood manga!!!

[thy-valhallen]

Cass, pointing at Jason: we're twins

Tim:

Jason: *6'3" 200 lbs of Latino rage and muscle*

Cass: *5'1" 120 lbs of Chinese murder and love*

Tim:

Tim: you're just not

Cass, patting his shoulder: it's okay. easy mistake. we're fraternal twins

Jason, holding up a gun: yep. twins.

Tim: ... good for you

Cass: :D

[atti-rambles]

thing i made for a friend to explain the carnies

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[soyochii]

Quick doodles before I evaporate.

[nikkisticki]

RULE

[scurvyboy]

college fiddauthor my beloved

images of them doing the nasty:

[frownyalfred]

I'm sure one of the Batkids has tried that whole "I'm locking you in this room to go sacrifice myself" schtick with Bruce and assured themselves that the plan would work because Bruce was 1) already injured and 2) down to just his armor, no utility belt or weapons/devices.

but what they didn't account for was the fact that Bruce would absolutely, 100% bust down that door with his bare hands, splitting the knuckles open and fracturing his fingers and ruining his gloves and armor if needed. he would break that door and probably the wall if it meant getting to his Robin before he did something dumb like pull a last-minute self-sacrifice plan.