#needing to be accomplishing more

[thehardkandy]

one of those saturdays where effectively it's been very productive. i got my assignment submitted and am officially ahead on my school work. ate breakfast ate lunch. washed towels. did my own laundry. scrubbed the stove. but i am just annoyed and restless like i should have gotten more done arhgghghghg

gonna see about getting some sushi and chilling out

[turtleblogatlast]

I love Raph and haven’t said that enough so to be more specific I love that Raph is a soft boy who loves bear plushies, a gross boy who eats an assortment of things that are definitely better left alone, a smart boy who is more than capable of taking down villains through planning and fortitude alike, a strong boy who is dedicated to training his muscles and fighting prowess, a teenage boy who loves his brothers but is more than happy to tease and roughhouse with them, an angry boy who sometimes lets his anger take a hold of him to cover the fear, a gentle boy who is generous with hugs and affirmations to those he loves, a capable boy who takes on more than should ever be expected of a teenager, a good boy who just wants to be a hero and slowly comes to realize the cost of that duty, a good boy who has no reservations about putting himself in the way of harm coming to his family, a good boy who’s a great brother and son and person and deserves only the best the world has to offer.

[fridayiminlovemp3]

the fact that this is real is beyond horrifying

[operationslipperypuppet]

i think kristen should get credit from yolanda for the miracle she performed when she resurrected herself

[junotter]

All the jokes about Ken and horses are good but I just wanna say it's such a good parallel to how actual young men get swept into misogyny and the patriarchy.

Like they're told to believe it means men get to be cool and manly and have this power but with that comes extremely rigid commands of what they can be as a man and a cycle of self hatred for never matching those gender roles perfectly. Patriarchy tells men that if they just do exactly what is expected of them, then they get all the "cool stuff" that comes with. That doesn't work though when there's only a small group that actually gets that power, but men will keep trying to fit into those roles in hopes that they can.

In the end there are no horses or the myth men are told, it's just endless cycles of self hatred and ingroup fighting.

[mysteryfeesh]

Guys they all have two hands. No guys hear me out-

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[englandsgirl18181234]

I'd say sorry for the sudden political spam but I'm really not. We finally have a good option and we need to grab it with both hands and run with it as far as we fucking can. So here's some facts that people seem to be ignoring when they say you shouldn't vote for Harris.

Harris was not a fucking cop, she was a district attorney and attorney general. Stop fucking saying otherwise, it's misinformation and you need to understand that.

Harris is documentedly pro LGBTQ+. When she was elected Attorney General, she co-sponsored legislation to ban the gay and trans panic defense which passed. She also officiated the first same-sex wedding in California after Section 8 was overturned 20 years ago.

In her entire time as District Attorney she never sought the death penalty. She also created the San Francisco Reentry Division, with the first of its kind reentry program Back On Track for first-time nonviolent offenders. 200 people graduated from it with less than 10 percent going on to commit another crime, compared to the 53 percent of California drug offenders that would do so in less than 2 years after release.

When she was elected to Attorney General of California, she introduced the Homeowner Bill of Rights, considered one of the strongest protections nationwide against aggressive foreclosure tactics.

In 2015, Harris's California Department of Justice became the first statewide agency in the US to require all of its police officers to wear body cameras.

So to reiterate:

Fucking vote for Harris.

Voting third party right now is not the fucking way. All it's gonna do is split the fucking votes that we need to keep Trump out of office. None of the third party candidates have the numbers to actually beat Trump. It's not going to fucking happen, stop saying it will because you're lying to yourself and others.

Not voting at all is even fucking worse than voting third party and you're an idiot if you think otherwise. Not voting isn't a fucking protest like some idiots are spouting. It's not making a fucking point. It is giving the fuck up and being a coward about it. It is actively choosing to not make things better when you have the fucking chance and I am disgusted that people actually think it's a good idea when we are on the verge of a second term for a literal traitor and convicted felon that actively thinks disabled and LGBTQ people should die.

Someone is still going to be President. Full stop, that is how elections fucking work. THERE IS STILL GOING TO BE A PRESIDENT. There is still going to be a president whether you vote or not. And our only real options right now are Harris or Trump. So use your fucking vote to make things better in the only way we can right now.

Yeah, there are things Harris needs to change and things she isn't on the right side on. But Trump is worse in every possible fucking way. So we need to lock this down and push for improvement, not decide shit is hopeless and fucking give the bad guy the win now that we finally have a fucking shot!

You didn't want to vote for Biden? Great, you're not! Now take the fucking miracle that just dropped into our fucking laps and run with it!

[beaulesbian]

And what's with the third sword?

[windydrawallday]

"You have another copy of the keys, right?"

My excuse for POCKY DAY 💥 I've been waiting to post this since last year, time flies...

Tagging these peeps because if it wasn't for all your support on my shippy work over the years idk what it would have been of myself right now @emisatea @sug4r-melon @ivycorp @jarofloosescrews 🐦💚🦡 Thank you so much!

[uncanny-tranny]

Choosing to be alive is a hard task sometimes, so I'm always so proud of people who choose to live for "weird" reasons.

Like, yes! Live to watch your favourite show for the millionth time! Yes! Live to hear rain against your car windshield! Live to laugh, to cry, to make Naruto proud! Do all of this to live, no matter how strange it is. You enrich this world, and no matter what you are living for, it is good enough. I am so incredibly amazed at your resolve, and your sheer willpower. I hope you never forget that part about your spirit because it is spectacular.

[antianakin]

Happy fix-it AU where Padme leaves Anakin anyway because she realizes how bad he is for her, and she ends up retiring because she REALLY doesn't want to be a Senator anymore (it was also maybe encouraged by her Queen after her secret marriage to a Jedi was discovered) and she goes back to Naboo to be with her family. She's left behind her responsibilities but she doesn't know what to do now, she's just... adrift, sort-of in limbo and mourning her relationship with Anakin. She has to keep convincing herself not to go back to him because she KNOWS she doesn't want that anymore, she KNOWS she doesn't want to be the person she was with him again, but the thrill of the secret marriage to someone who was so passionate about being with her is also sort-of like a drug.

Her parents both offer to let her come help them in their respective jobs, but she doesn't really have the energy for that right now. She DOES like helping Sola with her nieces because their energy and innocence seems to be a balm for her heart. One day, Sola asks if Padme can take the kids to a local festival in Theed one day while she and her husband go do something else, and Padme agrees. The girls are old enough and Theed is safe enough that they can wander off on their own away from Padme as long as they know not to go TOO far and come back to her after a little while. As she peruses the different artwork on her own, one artist's work stands to her more than anyone else's, it just hits at the core of her and she's not even sure why. She stands in front of a painting of a bird in flight for what seems like hours, though it can't be more than a minute or two, before the artist himself comes over to speak to her.

He addresses her as Senator Amidala, and she quickly tells him that she's not a Senator anymore and she doesn't really want to go by the name Amidala either, she prefers just Padme these days. He agrees, and something about him, maybe his eyes, seems familiar but she can't quite put her finger on it. They talk about his art for a while and everything he says about his inspiration feels like it's speaking directly to her. Eventually, Pooja and Ryoo come up to her and start pulling at her hands, demanding that she come see something with them. Before she leaves, she finally realizes she didn't even know his name and asks him.

It's Palo. The first boy she'd ever loved. The last time she'd seen him she'd been twelve in the Legislative Youth Program. She knew he'd left politics to become an artist instead, but she'd never actually seen any of his art before or ever tried to get back in contact with him. Now she wishes she had. Pooja and Ryoo are still pulling her away so she doesn't have time to really get over her shock at this revelation before she has to leave him behind and someone else comes up to ask him a question in her place.

He shows up at her parents' door the next day with the painting of the bird she'd so adored, and offers it to her as a gift. He refuses to accept any payment for it no matter how much she insists, but asks if she'd be willing to take a walk with him instead. She agrees. They end up spending the whole day together, just talking. For the first time, Padme doesn't feel like she's drowning in her own feelings or floating with no direction. She feels a lot like she's finally come home.

[the-one-that-weeps]

I find it a little poetic that, usually, plays have 5 acts, but isat has 6. And the sixth one is responsible for breaking the cycle. Like telling the viewer that "hey, it's not over. Your life isn't theatre. So go out and live."

[atchamcrepin]

A still frame from the animatic I'm working on. The japanese text is just a lyric from the song～ 😺

[clownsuu]

Ay. An offer; one doodle of lovelie for the price of answering my question 🦅

Eh? Eh?— Anyways my question is; what’s an art tip you can give that really helped you? Anything special when drawing or do you just have a hand of god?

(Btw your one of my favorite artists and I love seeing your work homie, number 1 inspo fr. Keep on cookin 🦅💞)

WAHHH THEY LOOK SO SCRUNGLYYYY (despite his many, m a n y crimes)

[lovebunnie]

scout often felt like whatever emotion he felt at a time, he felt it down to his bones. there was no subtle emotion to him. it was as though the switch in his brain could only go either on or off, max speed or a snail’s pace.

he knew he had a motor mouth, but that was only because he had shit to say; all the thoughts in his brain needed to come out and he kinda sucked at spelling so writing it down was a bust. if scout kept every emotion he felt within himself, he feared it would suffocate him under its weight.

when he was a kid, he got away with his big feelings by being the youngest in a family of nine, the baby through and through. as he stood now, he once again finds himself the youngest of nine, still the baby who was either an empty lighter or a forest fire.

scout hated the repetitive nature of his life. he hated his own predictability.

case in point, he sat outside of medic’s infirmary at the ass crack of dawn, and try as he might he could not convince himself to go to bed. all because he was in there. his ass was numb from sitting on the floor. the noises inside had stopped hours ago.

it just wasn’t fair, scout thought to himself. he wasn’t supposed to feel like this towards the man who walked out when he needed him the most. where was the logic in waiting up for good news about your deadbeat father? scout had long ago accepted what had happened, but here were those big feelings that told him to stay put.

it was old news. the scout hadnt needed a dad growing up and just when he thought he had finally convinced himself of that notion, some french asshole came into his life and never had a kind word to say; he was an enemy to scout first, before he was his father. and it took months to not get overwhelmed by anger and the truth of the matter. everyday the spy would sneer scouts way and it was his dad and the spy would make a quip about scouts reading ability and it was his dad and every time he would call him annoying or obnoxious he was still his dad, he would say the words while being his father.

medic was doing repairs on his medigun and before the match had politely asked the team to promise not to get maimed while he was between parts. no medigun meant no quick fixes, it meant long surgery and weeks in recovery.

the spy was shit at keeping promises, scout thought.

suddenly, the door opened and medic stepped out whilst delicately removing his gloves.

“doc!” scout leapt up on wobbly feet. “there ya are!”

the medic was obviously taken aback by the presence of another person. “ah, herr scout. it is rather late, is it not?”

“dunno, theres no clock in the hallway and i dont have a watch on me-”

with his bearings gathered, scout took in the haggard doctors appearance as his jaw clicked shut. blood was splattered on his white coat, haphazardly and carelessly with no direct source. medic had produced a handkerchief from his pocket and was dutifully attempted to scrub the blood off his hands and out from underneath his nails; evidently, his gloves could only shield from so much.

his face was lined with worry and he was obviously exhausted.

it was his father’s blood on medic’s face. he was in there and there was obviously a battle fought between doctor and patient.

“it is nearly 4am,” the medic said. “scout, what are you doing here?”

and wasnt that the question, thought scout. he was wondering the same damn thing himself.

because truly, what business did he have waiting up for spy of all people? what was he hoping to gain, a moment of lucidity from a man high on medication, a spark of realization about their situation? what good was acknowledgement if the circumstances were like this, sterile and forgotten by the time the stitches healed.

scout had sat and stayed, and it was far more than the spy ever did for him.

those big feelings rose back up, and scout stood rooted in righteous fury. “is he gonna make it?”

“could this not have waited until tomorrow?” medic asked. “i still need to disinfect my equipment and write my reports from the match.”

“im sick of waiting,” scout growled. “everyone else can play dumb all they want, but im askin ya to spit it to me straight, doc. is he gonna make it?”

before medic could reply, scout felt his chest constrict as those big feelings swallowed him whole and began to feast. “because its not fuckin fair, alright? i shouldnt care about that asshole after what he did to me, or didnt do for me when i was a kid. i grew up just fine without him and he couldnt give a damn about me so he doesnt deserve my time. i shouldnt be here, i shouldnt care, but i do. and it eats me up inside like im the only person who freakin realizes the situation. thats my dad in there and hes dying and everything tells me i should care about that and i do and i hate myself for it, that jerk didnt do anything for me my whole life, why do i care? why does he get my compassion when he hasnt earned it? i should know better and ive been here all night because my dad is hurt and i cant help him and i hate his guts-“ scout gripped medic by the shoulders and ripped the question out from somewhere deep in his chest, “is my dad gonna die, doc?”

tears ran down scouts red cheeks and he had a wild look in his eye. he looked like a frightened animal that had been cornered and was lashing out in protection; medic considered that comparison to be somewhat accurate.

“the spy will live.” medic chose his words carefully as he pried scouts hands off his shoulders. “the spy will live.”

and with nothing more to say and no answers to the questions, the medic brushed past scout and walked down the hallway.

scout looked at the door leading into the infirmary. he thought about walking in and staying by spys side the entire night, greeting him in the morning and helping him drink water when he couldnt sit up. he thought about what would happen if he became the bigger man and stayed when spy needed him, despite the pain it would cause. he thought about shoving it in spys face that it was easy to be somewhere where youre needed. scout thought about becoming everything spy couldnt be.

scout hated the repetitive nature of his life.