#just mentions but still

[lifblogs]

I’m cackling. Too real.

[multi-lefaiye]

sometimes i see posts on my dash reacting to discourse that aounds absolutely nightmarish and count myself lucky to have avoided it myself

[normalhorsez]

just complaining

dont know what we're going to do

btwn desperately trying to replace my laptop asap so i can stop beinf useless and take comms to Do Anything in oue situation and the $300 ggrampa is demanding by the 15th AND the $25 we owe tomorrow

and moms inevitable medical bills when shes home

i dont knwo

i relapsed with self harm after four years and im the most suicidal ive been in a long time

i hate money being used as a chip to abuse us and the passive aggressive notes he writes and leaves for us to find

im so tired of everything

[imsosocold]

Shelly strikes me as the type of person who was really man hating before he realized he was a man while Matt strikes me as the type of person who was really misogynistic before he realized he was a man.

[noodles-and-tea]

Just some more thoughts on that jayvik dbh au

[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.

[batsyheere]

Bruce tries to adopt Ellie, who is immediately against it. She keeps throwing him off her trail and he keeps tracking her down. She's honestly concerned, and normally she would handle her problems by herself- but this is Batman.

So when Bruce gets a little too close and Ellie is just so tired... she calls for Danny.

"Mom!"

Cue college student, perpetually tired and overworked Danny "High King Phantom" Fenton appearing from the very shadows Batman normally does himself, seeing the situation and going off at this "clearly older man" chasing his daughter in the middle of the night.

Cue the most elaborate "stop trying to adopt my kid before I adopt yours" series of battles

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy one year anniversary to In Stars and Time!

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara

They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them

But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd

The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>

[hootyhoowoo]

Craning just a little, Shen Qingqiu looked past the lord’s shoulder.

Luo Binghe stared down one of the most powerful cultivators in the human world, and scoffed. His lips twisted into a smile that was anything but happy. Shen Qingqiu’s heart stuttered - though maturity had given his former apprentice’s features grace and refinement, they were of course still familiar to him. But he hadn’t ever seen such an expression on them before. It was the kind of look that taunted the person across from it, as if to say ‘come pick a fight with me - I’ll enjoy watching you lose’.

The bolt of heat it shot right through him was entirely inappropriate, and he immediately decided to pretend that it never happened.

-

‘I Wish You Were My Husband’ -by Feynite Chapter 4

[egophiliac]

queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎

I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic Idea: Online Siren

Danny makes a mistake. Or maybe he struck gold. Depending on the perspective you were looking through.

It starts one night when Sam, Tucker, Danny, and Jazz get together for a private party on Tucker's birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Foley had let them have the whole house to themselves on the agreement that it would only be the four of them. They would be keeping an eye on the security camera and motion detectors around the property. At the slightest hints of Tucker having a house party, the pair would return from Mr. Foley's sister's house to shut it down.

The group of teenagers were more than happy not to invite anyone. It's not like anyone would show- at least not with good intentions. They had an entire night plan- coffee drinks based on their types, video games, boardgames ones, painting hour, karaoke, movies, and cake after presents.

They all pitched in for pizza, and Sam offered to buy everyone breakfast in the morning. The party started at four and would end at ten the following morning. The boys would sleep in Tucker's room while Sam and Jazz crashed in the guest room together.

Danny hadn't had that much fun in such a long time that he didn't even shy away from Sam's video camera while singing. The youngest Fenton has always had a fantastic singing voice, but his stage fright has stopped him from showing off his skill in front of anyone who was not close friends or family.

The following morning, while eating at Tucker's favorite breakfast restaurant, Sam checked her phone after noticing all the buzzing. Danny could catch her face turning pastly white at whatever was on her screen. She taps aggressively, nearly frantically, which gains the attention of Tucker and Jazz.

"Sam? Everything good?" Jazz asks gentely.

"I..no..I'm sorry, Danny," She whispers after staring hopelessly at her screen. "I meant to save it in our private share, not...the anonymous one."

"What?"

"I...post poetry anonymously on this voice website. It's audio recordings only." She explains, placing the phone on the table. Her voice is hesitant. "Last night....I accidentally posted the video of you singing from the Karaoke machine I saved. The one from the Realms. And some of my followers saved it and shared it. It's trending."

Danny feels his stomach drop into his legs. "What?"

"No one knows who you are!" Sam blurts as Tucker quickly pulls out his own phone. A few seconds later, Danny's voice blares out of his speaker, the melody blending well with his singing. The Karaoke has a recording option that deletes background noise, making it far more professional than four teenagers dancing around the Foley's coffee table.

"Dude, this sounds amazing," Tucker says after a moment. "I can't believe I finally have a recording of your singing. Just look at these comments!"

The song is an open domain in the Infinite Realms, telling the tell of the first King's fall. It's rather popular for its revolutionary themes and near musical lyrics that blended with the rapid flute melody, so finding a ghost willing to share a Karaoke version took nearly no effort. People online think Danny was the songwriter.

The song on Sam's page had ninty-thousand listens, with just as many downloads- each download places ten cents in her account. So far, Danny's singing has made nine thousand dollars. It's only been twelve hours!

It got so much traction because Damian Wayne had made an edit with a popular anime and posted it on his personal account. His small usage had exploded Danny's song in only a few hours.

"Take it down!" Danny hisses, slapping a hand over Tucker's screen and glancing at nearby tables. "Sam, please take your post down."

"I did! I swear! But it's too late to stop it from spreading on the WorldClip." She tells him, and Danny's heart feels like it will explode until Jazz gently speaks up.

"Sam, can Danny have those nine grand?"

His best friend blinks momently, thrown by the question before she nods, "Of course! It's his money."

"Hmm." Jazz taps her fingers under her chin before turning Danny's face towards her. It's not until her gentle pats on his back that he realizes he is hyperventilating. "You should post more on that anonymous website. Sam can write the songs, Tucker can make the music, and you can sing."

"What!?" He choked, shocked she would even ask him. Tucker and Sam are eyeing them with wide eyes, frozen in their seats. No one knew where the fear had come from, but the two knew how badly Danny reacted to the idea of performing.

Tucker first met Danny when the boy panicked in the music room. After it was announced, the students would be singing Twinkle Little Star in the first grade. It was the first time Tucker had ever called nine-one-one, too.

He was praised as a hero, while Danny was scolded for overreacting. Tucker had held his hand until the sobbing boy's parents came to pick him up and has never left his side since.

"Danny, this fear has always left you in shambles. I think it would help you. This could be a form of exposal therapy," She says, then shrugs her shoulder. "Think about it. No one will know who you are, but your music could reach thousands without you ever having to show your face. You could pay for the college you wanted to go to in Gotham this way. All of you."

Neither Danny's nor Tucker's parents could afford to send them to Gotham University despite it being their dream school. Sam's parents refused to pay for a "useless" degree such as Botany. They had been growing uneasy with the realization dreams were not always promised as the end of the senior year approached in only a few short months.

They would never ask it of him, but Danny could see the genuine hope tucked in their eyes as they waited for his response. He licked his lips, feeling his heart still beating a mile a minute under his rib cage.

He didn't like being this paralyzed by an irrational fear. He also really wanted to help them reach their dreams.

So Danny opens his mouth and whispers, "Only until we can get to Gotham to find jobs"

Jazz's smile is bright.

________________________________________________________

A few months later, Damian practically runs Tim over in his rush to connect to the game room's surround system. Jon is hot on his heels and has the decency to shout an apology as the pre-teens rush by.

"Hey! Watch it!" He still screams at their backs, irritated. "I could've dropped my croissant!"

"Sorry again Tim!"

"You're fat anyway, Drake!"

Tim rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on his plate as Dick rounds the corner that the children had appeared from. "What's got them rushing?"

"Online Siren just dropped a new song." Dick laughs. "Dami is a bit of a fan."

"Online Siren?"

"That's right, you were in space for five months. Online Siren is this anonymous singer that everyone is going crazy over on the internet. He's an amazing singer, but because no one knows anything about him. Not even Babs."

Tim raises a brow. "He could be using autotune."

"Maybe, but Tim, I'm telling you. Listen to his music, and you'll find you can't stop. Siren is a fitting name."

"He can't be that good," Tim mutters, following his eldest brother into the game room, where Damian and Jon have blared the speakers to the loudest setting and dancing around.

Tim draws up short at the sight of Damian Wayne actually crying as he sings along to the lyrics, acting as if the singer was right there in front of him and he was a long-time fan.

Then, the music invades his ears, and Tim feels like he is ascending on a different plane. The smooth, near silk-like voice glinds into his chest, rattling his bones, and his knees shake when the man holds a soft, seductive "Oh" for a few seconds longer then necessary.

It sends shivers down his spine.

"What is this!? It's so good!" He screams at the dancing Dick, who laughs.

"I know, right!?"

"It's too good. I think this is a real siren." Tim continues, pressing his hands over his ears. His mind flashes back to the few months he spent with his team, running for a mind-controlling alien that had nearly trapped them in the third space sector. "Dick, we're in danger! Get around from the speakers! Mind control!"

Dick stops dancing with a sigh, muttering under his breath as Tim rushes to the control panel of the speaker system. As soon as he slams it off, Damian releases a screech of an angered cat and launches at him, demanding his music back. Jon flouts nervously on the side as the two youngest Waynes brothers roll on the ground, yelling insults and taking dirty shots.

"I wish I could enjoy things with my siblings without them ruining it." He mumbles, striding forward to break up the fight, only to scream when Tim pulls out pepper spray, yowling like a madman.

"Mind control! Mind control!"

"My EYES! "

"Drake, stop!"

"You'll never get me Siren! Never!"

".I'm going to go get Mr.Wayne!"

"Make haste, Jon! Bring my father to stop this baffoon-my eyes! Drake, you bastard!"

[arczism]

sanji x the bear

[grayeet]

I love the pale garden and how it's like a parallel to dark forests. I love how the two divert expectations.

Dark forests, despite their name, are saturated and full of life. Even compared to regular forests, there's a lot more biodiversity than many of the "basic" biomes. There's three whole different trees found there, giant mushrooms, and plenty of flowers. They're one of the biomes capable of spawning a lush cave underneath it. It has its dangers just like any other overworld biome, obviously, but it's nothing overly more than anywhere else. Traversing it can be tricky sometimes and illagers may take residence in the biome's woodland mansions, but it's ultimately a very colorful and lively environment.

Opposing it is the new pale garden. Usually white and light colors are seen as pristine and good, but the pale garden takes it the opposite direction and goes right into uncanny valley territory. It has none of the color of dark forests, none of the biodiversity, none of the liveliness. It has trees and moss that look familiar, but something is off. It has a signature mob, but even the creaking is just a puppet of the trees, not really sentient, not really even plotting against anything. There's "life", but, once again, it's wrong.

I think the pale garden is a wonderful addition to Minecraft's world building as it is, but the deliberate parallel to dark forests? Delicious.

[faunandfloraas]

Honestly I think a lot of people who have never made a gif for tumblr don't get that it does actually take time and effort, its not just rip it from a video and post it- you have to download the video, in my case I have a video player installed that grabs continuous caps, figure out what parts you need, you have to open those in photoshop or gimp, depending on where you got photoshop you might be paying for it every month and then on top of that is actually sizing, cropping, colouring, sharpening, adding text, etc. etc. like it is something that takes time and effort for which the only real reward is creating something that makes you happy and hopefully people reblog it with a nice or funny tag, so maybe keep that in mind the next time you think gif makers are being mean or unfair for being upset about reposts. It is its own little artform that is fairly unique to this website, and that's a big aspect of why I have always loved tumblr, if all the gifmakers stopped posting things would be a lot more boring around here.

[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.