#they will stop and sit there

[badolmen]

WARNING 18+

19

[morganbritton132]

No one tells you when you get a Big Serious Job™ how many fucking abbreviations you’ll be forced to learn.

[adriles]

when we’re done with our overwhelming grief we’ll eat i guess

[lgbtlunaverse]

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

[seventeendeer]

when you’re pet pet petting your sweet little baby cat on her sweet little pumpkin head but then she starts to get overstimulated and her little tail is swooshing back and forth and you can Tell all her ancient beast instincts are kicking in telling her to maul the shit out of your hand, and she looks SO forlorn because she actually wanted more cuddles but also there’s only so much a little animal can do to contain her impulses and she looks at you w the biggest wettest saddest eyes like

[lotus-pear]

HAPPY 114‼️‼️ take these silly doodles i did

[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.

[e-vasong]

I think that Daniel should get a little cat that he names something cute. like typo. and it should be the silliest dumbest creature in the world, and Armand should be so jealous of that cat that it still somehow makes him look stupid in comparison.

he's just like. you, feline companion to my beloved. most loathsome of creatures. i see through your foul ruse. my daniel may be taken in by your charms, but i will not be played for the fool. you seek to replace me in his esteems, and you may yet distract him for a time. but he will see the truth of you soon enough. your cruelty. batting him in the face with your dreadful claws while he is trying to rest. begging for your meals at the wicked hours of the morning and night! you will visit no more of these horrors upon him. know this, 'typo.' if you did not bring my daniel such joy i would see you removed from this home and cast out into street like a beggar. i suggest you watch your back.

[crescentfool]

december 31st but i make it silly (based on a tumblr post, below the cut!)

everyone say thank you xenia, i made adjustments for the december 31st context but nyx avatar is still fitting.

original draft of the last panel. i considered putting the bi flag but i didn't know how to squeeze it in. we love ryoji mochizuki in this house.

[moonlightmagical]

this might be the greatest season of dimension 20

[feddy-34]

everyone all "waaah waaah kamala was a cop she's not a good person" who gives a FUCK name a single presidential candidate who was a good person. y'all dgaf about this country you just wanna ring up morality points online

[oobbbear]

Best dynamic

[kosmogrl]

[sketchesofthespontaneous]

Yeah so I saw this pic of the goth on the luggage rack again and thought

“Yeah, Johnny’d do that.”

[spielzeugkaiser]

How it started-

How it's going!! They are a family and I am!!! also draw the hug you want to see in the show but they are forgiven because them meeting in brokilon was still soooo tender my HEART-

[nibeul]

call me crazy but maybe they should stop making documentaries about serial killers. especially when the victims’ families weren’t consulted or compensated. just a thought