#they are always watching//

[glevils-inbox]

No. You're not the one in my walls..

IM IN YOUR WALLS.

MUAHAHAHSHAHAYYAYAYAAHHAHAHAHAAHHA

I will find you.

[ef-1]

For those not tapped into Australian politics, King Charles is in Australia to conduct his "historic first tour to the commonwealth realm" i.e visting countries that King Charles is supposedly a monarch to.

Indigenous senator Lidia Thorpe had requested an audience with King Charles for weeks prior to this visit, she wrote countless letters to speak to him. Unlike other commonwealth nations and other former Brisitish colonies, a treaty with Indigenous peoples in Australia was never formed. Their land was never ceded to the British Crown. After being denied and ignored, Lidia Thorpe, draped in a traditional possum skin cloak, stormed in the Great Hall during the reception for Charles at Parliament House in the capital shouting the following:

I literally can't even look at these photos without getting goosebumps.

[nb-marceline]

(full article here)

[stevenrogered]

Dame Maggie Smith as Muriel Donnelly The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2015)

[starridge]

puppet hour was brutal

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[kensatou]

studio trigger understood the assignment. i would let her wreck me.

[antlergrave]

ANSWER ME

[kayascodelorio]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 2.05 ‘Don't Be Afraid, Just Start the Tape’ | IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA 3.06 ‘The Gang Solves the North Korea Situation’

[nidbaesenpai]

Happy one year anniversary ISAT! To celebrate I wanted to share the lil strips I made for my friends when they reached the end of the game! They're all meant to be snippets of life post game and a glimpse into the world I'm making for Loop.

[littlefankingdom]

Bruce died(?) again

Jason: Well, it's my turn.

Dick: What are you talking about?

Jason: Everytime Bruce is gone, one of you starts to act just like him, pushing everyone away, acting as only you can be right, and fighting anyone that gets in your way. Dick did it, Tim did it, even Cass kind of did it. So, this time, I will do it.

Tim: Isn't that how you act all the time?

Jason: Whoa, fuck you. You are so banned from historical drama movie nights.

[desertduality]

something about the way the hermits try to blend their bases together when they're close by is just really sweet to me. I don't really know how to explain it other than like. it's art. they start out with their empty plots of land and then they shape it and change it and they start growing into each other. the lines blur. it's like they're all given a slab of marble and they carve their own statues but they make the statues hold hands. i dunno.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Elizabeth Afton bets on losing dogs in FNAF..

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

shattered glass B-127

[morganbritton132]

I want a fic where Tim unwittingly becomes the rebellious kid after his dad dies because he has a hard time adjusting from his latchkey kid with absentee parents life to the almost constant adult supervision at Wayne Manor.

Like, Tim spent years sneaking around to do Batman shit and even when he got in trouble, if he waited long enough his parents would either leave town or forget about it.

Now he’s getting the ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ talk from Bruce for skipping school and supplementing half his meals with energy drinks and is just like: ???? Nothing has changed??

Tim gets hurt on patrol and Bruce tells him that Robin will not be out in Gotham the next night, and then gets mad when he finds Tim on a rooftop in his civies taking pictures. Tim is just like: Robin’s not out. I followed your order. What’s the problem?

Tim disappears for a few days following a lead and gets grounded for not telling anybody where he went (even though he did. It’s in the Batcomputer) and for missing school which he interprets as meaning that Robin is grounded (can’t patrol). So it’s confusing when he gets in trouble again for inviting Kon over to hang out because he’s ‘grounded’ which doesn’t even make sense because Bruce isn’t even home??

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.