#imagine being this lucky

[seethestarlights]

when emma falls in love | kansis city night 1

[literalsunhobi]

there's this brazilian army i follow who just happened to be in nyc this week and got to see jk 😭😭

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Into the pit? More like into the daddy issues

[chinelacanta]

i like to think that ever since they met it was mutually ON SIGHT bullying <3

they’re both losers (said with love)

[inkskinned]

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.

[sharkylad]

Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.

Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?

Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If the Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.

The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.

Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.

It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.

I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.

He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.

[deeva-arud]

A considerable amount of makeup was used to cover Deeva's freckles and face marks, and Cater also had to use magic to make her clothes his size. They did this as a joke, but they sure were committed to it! 💪

Original style swap challenge by @ashipiko ! (see her post here!!) If anyone wants to give it a try, go ahead, it's really fun!!! <3

[kedreeva]

Might be a silly question, but if someone needed to handraise a male peafowl, could they wear some sort of face covering and use a hand puppet like wildlife rehabbers and zookeepers do to prevent imprinting?

The ONLY reason anyone would "need" to handraise a peacock is if the bird is in need of major medical attention that requires more handling than usual. Rehabbers use hand puppets for feeding chicks, but peafowl are precocious- they aren't directly fed by their mothers or fathers, they are just shown foods and they eat by themselves. They're also pretty perceptive little shits with excellent eyesight right from hatch, and do NOT like things that look like peafowl but Aren't (they seem to have an uncanny valley, I have video of chicks freaking out when shown not-real peafowl), so I would think a puppet wouldn't work anyway.

The good news is pretty much no one should "need" to hand raise a peacock; most major medical issues should be culled, not raised, and ones that ARE raised should be handled by experienced keepers that can deal with the problems that occur. This is a part of responsible breeding.

And any chick that isn't a medical issue should never be a "need." Peafowl breeding season is during the summer, when people all over the place are hatching a bazillion chickens, turkeys, guinea, and quail every day- including large box stores like TSC, FFH, and other farm stores, and local feed mills often have local bred chicks. You should have no problem finding companions for solo peachicks (or groups), and you should be able to leave any groups of chicks alone enough to not imprint them.

[professorjirt]

I’ve discovered my favorite genre of Bagginshield art is where Thorin is a lovesick idiot who is Losing It and Bilbo is unbothered or oblivious to Thorin’s suffering LMAO

[great-and-small]

Finally some good news ☺️

[turtleblogatlast]

“Hey, Hueso.”

Hueso sighs.

Moving his gaze to his left, he sees Leo casually leaning up against the wall next to him. The turtle isn’t looking at him, instead he seems to be staring at nothing at all. Strange, but not necessarily unheard of from him.

“We’re closed, Pepino.” Hueso states, moving a little away to continue closing down his restaurant-

“Can any portal be portal-jacked?”

Hueso pauses.

It’s a simple enough question, one that Hueso’s fairly certain he’s given an equally simple - if not a bit harsh - answer to. Granted, it was more in regard to the likelihood of bad portals being jacked rather than any at all, so maybe now that Leo has admittedly become much more competent with his portals, he’s just worried it’ll happen again.

The invasion certainly made the boy more…cautious. Quieter, too.

“Well…” Hueso runs a bony hand down his face, “From what I know, the possibility always exists, Pepino. However, it is far, far more unlikely to be portal-jacked when the portal is made by a master, rather than some reckless amateur.”

Leo nods his head, almost vacantly. If Hueso wasn’t paying so much attention he may have missed the way Leo seemed to look a little sick. Despite himself, concern builds within him.

“So-“ Leo starts, his voice soft in a worrisome way before he clears it, “So…if the portal was just- really strong, it could still be jacked if made by a beginner?”

Hueso watches closely even as he nods in answer, “Sí. Your own portals are strong, no?”

Leo shakes his head, “No, like- imagine a portal way stronger than mine ever were. Something huge and stuff. More, uh. More locked up dimensions and time, less…just space.”

“Hm.” Hueso frowns, considering the strange question. “Well, in truth I have yet to come across many portals on that level, but there’s nothing to say that it’s not possible-“ The smallest furrow of Leo’s brow makes Hueso hurry to add, “-ah, but there’s also nothing that says it is possible.”

“So…it could happen? It’s not a definitive “no”?” Leo asks, the smallest of shakes present in his tone.

Hueso puts a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “No lo sé, Pepino. I haven’t come across such portals enough to give a good answer to you.”

Something in him hurts a bit when Leo visibly plasters on a grin. “Ah, man. Well- Gracias, Hueso, this was just a stupid thing to get all hung up on anyway.”

Hueso looks closer at this annoying, insufferable, horribly quiet and reserved boy. He sees the dark circles peaking, barely visible thanks to the mask. He sees the scars of healed injuries never to be forgotten displayed all across the boy’s body. He sees the look in Leo’s eyes, a depression and worry that is…hard to look at, in someone so young.

He sees all of this in Leo, and as much as he sometimes wishes to deny it, he cares enough about him to gently ask. “Are you okay, Pepino?”

“Oh- yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Hueso, I’m not about to whine to you again or anything.” Leo laughs, backing away out of Hueso’s reach. “It’s just a little question, just something that’s been bothering me, y’know? Wanted to ask an expert.”

“Pepino-“ Hueso starts, not quite sure what to say. The words “you can come to me whenever you need to” are true, and yet he can’t bring himself to say them before Leo already is swinging a katana.

In the light of his blue portal, Leo sends Hueso his signature, manufactured grin. “Thanks for listening, Hueso!”

And then he’s gone. Just like that. Standing tall and confident with not a shred of that worry and reservation and fear left behind. It was the look of a soldier heading off to a battle he knew was terrifying, but one he also knew he needed to keep a brave face for.

It would have been a commendable look, if not for the fact Leo was heading home.

Hueso stares at the residual sparks of the portal for just a moment longer before moving to continue closing. Next time, because there will always be a next time, Hueso will have a fresh pizza waiting.

And, hopefully, a bit of that insufferable turtle he knows so well comes back to grab a slice.

[luckyshrimp]

Drowning rabbit!

[youngpettyqueen]

I know the decision to have Julian's parents have him augmented was made on the fly but imo its pretty obvious from early on that Julian has Family Issues because he avoids talking about his family like the plague and I think they should've incorporated this into the Julian and Sisko dynamic right from early on because I think it would've made for some really compelling stories and moments and could've set up a REALLY interesting Julian and Jake dynamic which they kinda started to do but never fully went for

[corvid-ghost]

The in story reasons of Odysseus and Penelopes namesss

Odysseus, named by his grandfather, someone so fueled by hate, he named his only grandson "he who causes pain". He named a child after suffering because, in his eyes, the whole world suffers.

Penelope, who was born to "Arnacia", but renamed after swans/ducks saved her from her own father. Her own father tried to kill because she wasn't who he wanted.

[starrylevi]

Cute and silly drabble about Levi trying to convince you to quit your job and let him take care of you ♥️

“You’re not happy.” He states as he picks up his cup of tea by its circular top.

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. “I know.” You reply softly.

“So quit.” He shrugs as he brings the cup to his lips.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t just quit, Levi.”

“Sure you can. I’ll even write the resignation letter for you.” He smirks before taking a sip of tea, his eyes meets yours as he drinks.

You chuckle at that. “I wish…”

“It doesn’t have to be a wish, Y/N…”

“I don’t have another job lined up.” You remind him.

“So?” He places his cup back down on the table.

You look at him incredulously. “What do you mean, ‘so?’ How am I supposed to make money, Levi?”

“I would give it to you.” He states simply, as if the answer was obvious.

Your eyes narrow at him. “And what would you get in return, Mr. Ackerman?”

He shrugs. “Nothing I don’t get already. This isn’t an arrangement-“

“So I wouldn’t be your sugar baby?” You ask jokingly.

Levi looks disgusted. “Absolutely not.”

You pretend pout. “You don’t want me to be your sugar baby?”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” You giggle.

“I’m serious. If you need to quit-“

“Levi, I couldn’t possibly do that. What if we break up?” You ask, your mind jumping to the worse possible conclusion. “What if we break up, then I would be without a partner and without a job.”

“Why would you assume we would break up?”

“I’m just thinking of possible scenarios!”

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a breath. “Look, I know it would be a big deal. I’m not saying it isn’t. I’m just stating the option is there.”

“I don’t know, Levi…”

“I know it’s scary, you would have to rely on me-“

You cut him off again, trying to explain yourself. “It’s not that I don’t trust you-“

“I know. I know, Y/N.” He says with a chuckle. “I know how your brain works. Just think about it.” He shrugs.

You pause, digesting his words. “Would I get an allowance?”

This makes Levi chuckle again. “Would you want one?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, man, you tell me.”

Levi playfully rolls his eyes. “C’mere.” He gestures for you to sit on his lap. You follow his command, now you’re snug against him. “Whatever you want, you’ll get.”

You nod.

“I love you, and I just want you to be happy.” He murmurs against your skin.

“I know, I appreciate you. I love you too.” You think about how lucky you are to have someone like Levi. “I don’t deserve you.” You mumble.

“Tch, don’t say that. I’d argue it’s the other way around.

“Absolutely not.”

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He places a small trail of kisses on your skin.

“I guess so.” You giggle.

Maybe you would take him up on the offer.

[moe-broey]

Actually that is another Summoner Thought I am CONSTANTLY turning around in my head. The fact that not only is the Summoner painfully isolated in a way that no one even has the context to fully comprehend, but also the feeling of being Trapped. Like yeah, Askr and the Order are nicies, Kiran is Lucky to have stumbled into their laps instead of like. Muspell, or Eitri. Or even Embla and the Curse Directive.

But that doesn't really change the fact that Kiran was still forced into their position. The threat of being in an entirely new world and not knowing where you would even begin, if you were just. Dropped into a town or something. Esp from modern era to medieval. Nothing but the clothes on your back (hell, Kiran even got New Summonery clothes, so fuck whatever was in their pockets. As if it fucking matters, whatever is in their wallet wouldn't matter here and their phone is gonna die within the day. Two days tops. Again. As if it fucking matters, it's just a camera at this point).

But they fall into the laps of The Order of Heroes, who request their aid, saying YOU'RE the only person who can Do This, we did a very specific ritual at a specific ruin to bring you here. Already, how can you say No to that? Especially when promptly it's shown you DO possess that power they seek, now. And then there's the Basic Necessities. In exchange for your help, we'll give you a roof over your head. We'll give you food and water. You'll have your own room. And we'll even see to any odds and ends, should you ask, if we're able.

Kiran is Lucky. That they have the bare minimum a person could need. That, they didn't have to figure out all that on the fly. And again, Kiran is Lucky that The Order of Heroes is comprised of a good Commander, and a Prince and Princess who are very sweets very nicies and strive to be just and fair and to Do Good. That doesn't change the fact that Kiran's "choice" to serve the Order was essentially okay gun to your head. Do you want to have dinner and sleep in a bed tonight? Or take your chances doing god knows what. God knows where. And probably end up killed, if we're being honest here. Or at least, suffering A Lot. Be it by lack of resources, most likely no outdoorsy survival skills, and then there's the bandit situation and Emblian forces constantly poking Askr's ass.

Like. Okay. Yeah. I guess I'll stay. And I better figure out how to Keep Staying Here or so help me. As if I have a fucking choice.