#what am i even saying?

[pleafyistired]

Ancap n commie is so hard to talk about. What do i say. That theyre wholly opposite and everything the other stand against? That they know each other so well and deeply? That commie will always express out loud how clearly he knows ancap like the back of his hand, and ancap will never say it out loud, but instead use it silently to his advantage? That theyre petty stupid bitches that will do shit to each other as long as its convenient to them? That they depend on each other and no one talk about it and will never ever ever express it out loud, but their inherent flaws means they need each other to continue existing? Whatever, perhaps it doesn't matter. When you're a monster that is intoxicated by the thing that you stand to oppose at every turn. 

[cillianmurphysdimples]

There's a whole pecking order. It goes Chris Nolan -> Cillian Murphy -> Tom Hardy -> the girl reading this.

Ah, stop! Murphy would be chained to a bed with Nolan and Hardy taking it in turns to torture him to orgasm in some way... Although I think Hardy would give some lovely aftercare, I reckon Nolan would be too busy rushing off to masturbate over the images of total dominance over poor wee Murphy!

[werebutch]

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[melssije]

i feel like who i am is a curse. i don’t know why or how i feel this way, it keeps me up at night. i sit for hours thinking and thinking for a better reason to live or something to make up for the lost cause that i am.

it feels kind of haunting — but it goes deeper than that, beneath the flesh, like tons of hidden secrets all enveloped inside, ready to be plucked apart like perfect impurities, each more surprising and saddening than the last.

like a book you open but fail to finish, you turn every page and it leaves you more empty and filled with dread, not wanting to complete the tale. something you leave behind at a party or at a friend’s house, something you easily forget about. a sweet smell surrounding you, like perfume, but you can’t rid yourself of the scent.

[imhidingfromcastorrr]

me pretending to be the writer/director of a film right now

I wrote such a good script and have the best idea ever for it to be like this show/movie all i need is actors now and film it... should i ask my school friends? Only problem, it's a romance. They might find it cringe. NOW WHAT DO I DO😭😭

[joshuamj]

Hero.

[coddda]

I wish we could have met in some other way.

Lawlight Week Day 2: Soulmates

If you saw me repost and re-edit this several times uh No you didn't </3

Still frames/Individual gifs:

If you know what every frame is from you get a free cookie. by the way

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[aniseandspearmint]

I am curious, bc I just ran across one of those, 'everyone remembers where they were when 9/11 happened!' things so-

This isn't meant to be a commentary on the event, just whether or not you remember where you were/what you were doing when the news hit.

As an example, I was home sick, doing dishes, when mom yelled for me to get in the living room RIGHT NOW.

[soaked-doors]

“Those two things can exist at the same time. Like you said, it's all—it's all tangled up together, you and me.”

double page spread for one of my favorite luzo fics of all time, poly philtatos (the most beloved by far) by my good friend - @swordsmans!

I knew I wanted to do a double page spread the second I finished this fic and I drafted abt a dozen ideas before landing on what would ultimately become this. There were so many snippets and moments I wanted to illustrate but I ended up doing more of an abstracted version of the fic as opposed to 1:1 drawings of scenes 

funnily enough while the fic itself is told in zoros pov this spread is framed mostly through luffy’s eyes - his tears literally frame comp for their reunion, the moment he loses zoro, and the centerpiece of the first page which is this weird abstraction of him on the beach seeing zoros corpse-not-a-corpse in the waves just beyond his reach. 

gyro put the crane wives’ never love an anchor on the playlist for this fic which i heavily used as inspiration in picking ornamental things for the spread (the anchor, the fleet of ships by luffy, and the nautical rope splitting the second page). also just like. overall really heartbreaking lyrics guys 

there are smaller elements throughout the spread that are 1:1 references though (all i will say for these is if you know, you know hehe) i wish i had more time to do a lengthier piece for fanart for this fic bc it's one of the few luzo fics that have been rattling around in my brain forever now - once again please please please read poly philtatos if you haven't. gyro is a masterful writer and they deserve all the love! ok byeee

[ryllen]

[ x ]

[theophagie]

I thought I was losing it but no, kh1 Sora's fast swimming animation really does change after you've been to Atlantica. It's a small detail, but also a cute and smart one 🥺

[egophiliac]

NEW BIRTHDAY THEME IS OUT!!!!!!!!!!!

BIRTHDAY SLUMBER PARTY, HERE WE COME

I think the theme is more loungewear than straight-up pajamas, but hey, I'm not complaining! (and -- look, we still have the groovies, I'm not giving up hope for animal kigurumi until I gotta)

[aethersea]

I do think Blazing Saddles handled its one depiction of native americans very poorly, and the full extent of its representation of chinese workers on the railroad is they were literally just there. not even one single speaking line. unclear if this is worse or better than the redface.

it's fucking phenomenal at lampooning antiblack racism though. extremely blatant, extremely funny satire, which is constantly and loudly saying "racism is the philosophy of the terminally stupid at best and morally depraved at worst, and we should all be pointing and laughing at them 24/7"

plus the main character is a heroic black man who has to navigate a whole lot of bullshit but is constantly smirking at the extraordinarily stupid racists and inviting the audience into the joke. the one heroic white character is a guy who was suicidally depressed until he met the protagonist and they just instantly became buds, and he's firmly in a supporting role the whole time and happy to be there. the protagonist saves the day with the help of his black friends from the railroad, and uses the position of power he was given to uplift not only those friends, but all the railroad workers of other minorities too, in an explicit show of solidarity.

anyone saying "Blazing Saddles is racist" had better be talking about its treatment of non-black minorities. it had better not be such superficial takes as "oh but they say the n-word all the time" or "they have nazis and the kkk in there!" because goddamn if that's the full extent of your critique I very seriously suggest you read up on media analysis. there is too much going over your head, you need to learn to recognize satire.

[ainsi-soit-il]

The thing about being religious is you'll talk about your beliefs and/or experiences with non-religious people, and they'll sort of pat you on the head and say, "Yes, what a nice little idea, I'm glad that you have your beliefs to comfort you!" and every time you have to bite your tongue because your religion isn't just a "nice little idea" to you, it's a cosmic truth that underlies all things, and furthermore, although God Himself has comforted you, that doesn't mean that faith itself is comfortable, but if you put any of that into words, they'll look at you funny.