#who taught this children to ACT

[cateyeswrites]

TOMMYINNIT AND TUBBO- DSMP

Unknown artist Clingy duo/ we didn’t start the fire by Billy Joel/ clingy duo art by chunkysoup22 / Fallen by Ephemeral Obblivion / Tommy and tubbo art by catducklol / Tommy and tubbo compases/ My Tears Ricochet by Taylor swift / L’manberg festival by theangelincar1 / techno comes home by @peninkwrites /

this is my contribution to the dsmp four years to late after my wife decided to drag me with her and now I understand when people say there is a hole the size of l’manburg in my heart 😭 I been watching this boys for exactly a year now and getting to doomsday has been an insane experience.

[cateyeswrites]

I am in shambles

“He just wanted to watch me...”

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

‘sure they pocketed our money and abused your trust in the music community and passion for classical music. but since you’re now in a group that you love and that makes you happy the only way to heal is to be grateful you got to play the musikverein at 17 even if it was with a bad orchestra’ no. laser beams from my eyeballs for a million years

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

Sometimes I am just so fucking proud of the kid I’m raising. He has more integrity than most adults and he’s just….so kind. The other day his cousin got in trouble and was sent to time-out and my kid comes out of his room and is like “Hey, if he’s in time out then I should be, too. We were both doing the thing, but you just caught him in the act. How long do I need to sit in the corner?” And like…I don’t know many adults that would willingly accept punishment for something that someone else got caught doing.

Then we’re planning another snowboarding trip and trying to get the Three Musketeers to all go (my kid, his nephew, and their friend that lives up the road). My nephew has never been able to go, and my son and his friend have already been a few times. My kid is like “we HAVE to make sure my cousin can come, I want to make sure he learns along with me so that he can be just as good as me. I don’t want him to fall behind! He’s only going to need one lesson, he’s so good, he’ll pick it up right away and be just as good as me!”

Like he hypes his friends up, he makes sure none of them get left behind, he tries to make things as just and equal as his six year old self can, he’s just….so smart and so kind and has so much integrity that I wonder at times how he can be so good having come from me, a literal trash goblin of a human being.

[ablednt]

Granted I have the overall geographical and cultural knowledge of a 4th grader but from what I can tell the nuclear family model really does seem to be a white colonial invention

Different cultures have different approaches but I mainly hear about either large family units where multiple generations support each other and raise their children and grandchildren together or an "it takes a village" approach where children are raised somewhat communally

And I can't really speak on it much or claim that these families were free of abuse or that children aren't often an oppressed group basically everywhere I know of but the way ownership of your children is so engrained into white society is so bizarre

Like once you notice it you can't unnotice it even the most loving well meaning parents don't know what to do about it because everyone is so isolated from their own families and their own communities so you wind up with 1-2 parents who have full legal ownership of their child and are raised in a culture where you don't have personhood until you're 18 and all attempts at self actualization before them are seen as clueless rebellion. Like our culture is so divorced from the concept that a parent is someone who is helping mentor and care for their child so they can thrive as a fellow human being and it's actually so alarming

And ik this problem isn't unique to white and colonized people but it's honestly really soothing to hear about how other cultures approach and view parenting and community as a whole and to internalize it doesn't have to be this way

[tittyinfinity]

you ever see a bunch of adults in their 20s and 30s absolutely dragging someone and then you go and check the person's blog and they're 15 years old

[infizero]

his faceeeeee someone get me OUT OF HERE

[astroreoreoreoreoreoreoreo]

maybe i have lame opinions but I just wanna say- people who say "just don't interact with the community" don't get it. I wanna be able to interact with people who love [insert media here] as much as I do without getting crazy hate from the outside world because some people don't know how to act. i wanna say "people in fandoms should hold each other accountable for their behavior" but that's also not a good solution because at some point it just turns into policing for the sake of appearing normal and there's no fun in that. so I guess instead I'll point to this meme.

there is no "perfect community", there will always be odd people, and being odd isn't a death sentence. Fandom is fandom just "le sigh. we cringe on" and keep moving

i guess my girlfriend would want me to say "kill the part of you that cringes, not the part that is cringe"

"I hate (insert media here) because of the fando-"

[gillyeowalters]

Because it is the anniversary of his death, I wanted to share a small story about my grandfather.

Before I knew that I was intersex, I identified as a trans man. And I went the way any trans man has to go if he wants to transition in my country. My parents thankfully were supportive but I was afraid to tell my grandparents. My grandparents were German and lived/were raised during the third reich. While both of them never said or acted in a way that suggested that they had fascist views (my grandfather was until he died part of a leftwing political party), but there still was this fear in me. "They are old, they grew up surrounded by abhorrent beliefs...". And then there was my aunt. Who would constantly claim that my grandfather was homophobic.

The problem was, back then, there were no openly out gay people in our area, so I never got the chance to see my grandfather interact with someone who was queer. So I just believed her. Because she was so insistent on it. And because it confirmed my fears and my brain loves to be constantly afraid.

But I knew I wanted to come out. I had to, eventually, because I had stopped my estrogen treatment (back then, I did not know that I got that because I was intersex) and went on testosterone instead and first physical changes began to show. We all lived in one big house, so my grandparents would eventually notice.

I was so afraid that my father at some point offered to talk to his parents. I waited outside in the hallway that led to their kitchen and listened.

My father explained, easy to understand, that I was going to transition from female to male because I felt terrible in my body. My grandfather asked, "Is that why the child* is so depressed all this time?" I had been in and out of multiple clinics for manic depression at that point. My father gave a yes. And my grandmother made the incredibly selfish comment, "Can't that wait until I am dead?"

Before I even got time to be upset, my grandfather slammed his fist down on the table. I had never seen or heard him do anything like that before. He was a very calm and collected man who preferred to leave the room before he got too angry. "No, it can't wait. The child gets to get well now. And if that is what is going to help, then it needs to be done."

From that day on, he never used my deadname again or used the wrong pronouns for me. Sometimes, he would stop in a sentence to think and remind himself, but he did always address me correctly.

He celebrated with me when my name was legally changed. He built the bed frame for me and my boyfriend's bed when we moved in together, just like he had built the first adult sized bedframe for me when I outgrew my small bed. He drove my boyfriend to his chemo sessions because my grandfather also had cancer and knew how terrifying it was to go alone.

Did he fully understand what it means to be intersex? To transition? No. But he understood that one of his loved ones was suffering and that he could help to alleviate that pain. And so he did.

He taught me calligraphy. He taught me how to sew. He taught me bookbinding. He gave me many gifts.

But the biggest gift he gave me was, that when someone hated me for what I am, I could stomach it. Because this man was willing to unlearn the bigotry he had been taught for decades so he could love me for who I am.

*in my grandpa's dialect it was normal to refer to children as just 'the child' (genderless)

EDIT

I was blown away by how many people have reblogged this post. I believe my grandfather would be very happy to see that he can give some hope and love to others even now.

I do not want him to stay faceless; so here is a piece of art I made for his obituary, with a slightly altered quote added now.

Dahlias were his favorite flowers. Orange ones especially. They reminded him of the home he had to flee from as a child.

EDIT 28/03/25

Happy birthday.

[s-a-u-l-o-f-t-a-r-s-u-s]

Shelley Duvall wasn’t a demure 70s coquette for your moodboard or a nutcase driven mad by Kubrick’s harsh directorial hand. She was a woman with no prior acting experience or training who jumped into the industry and made her mark. She was an unforgettable personality on the screen; so down to earth and approachable yet aloof in her own way. She had a gift that can’t be taught in a drama college; her onscreen manner felt natural. Contrary to urban legend, she didn’t go completely insane after the Shining. She produced 3 successful children’s television series throughout the 80s and 90s and earned a Peabody award and two Daytime Emmy nominations. She was passionate about creating quality entertainment for children.

Many who worship celebrities only worship an image or a constructed narrative, and, admittedly, there’s no way for any of us to have known Shelley as a person beyond her work in film and television. Still, when I look at her I see someone who worked hard to create so many wonderful things, and I think her talent was so much greater than what people gave her credit for.

[anothermonikan]

Man high school was fucked up. You ever think about that. Thank fucking god I'm not in high school anymore

[blackpearlblast]

[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]

@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.

This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.

The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.

I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

One of the things which really annoys me about Dick Grayson’s characterisation by both DC and the fandom is how they treat his being Romani (I say this as a gypsy from the circus myself) also before people cancel me for saying gypsy - I am not American and it’s not a slur where I am from. I am a gypsy myself so please don’t freak out about my using this term which feels comfortable and accurate to me

I know this is a common complaint, but being a gypsy or Romani is such a niche ethnic identity, and so often I see people treat it almost like a nationality. For example, the idea that Dick Grayson grew up not knowing English is so bizarre to me… of course he knew English, he may be Romani and speak it, but he is also American. The shopkeeper who he is buying food from doesn’t speak Romani, nor do the local authorities whose permission we need to even put on a circus/fair, so it makes sense that he’d speak English to them. He works in the circus: his family’s livelihood depended on his being able to draw a crowd - if he can’t interact with the people he’s taking the money from, how does he expect to make it in what is essentially a customer service job (I speak from experience here). Also, historically, by the late 18th century, the vast majority of Romani-speaking gypsies also spoke another language as a first language, and by the 20th century, I could argue that this is about 99.99999% of us, if not all.

The other thing I often see is how Dick Grayson is portrayed as being the Bristol-raised kid who doesn’t understand Jason’s Crime Alley upbringing. And yeah, whilst Dick lived with Bruce from a young age, and might (even based on his personality) have a better chance of mixing with the rich kids, let’s not act like Dick didn’t know struggle as a kid. Even if his parents were fairly comfortable economically, he spent at least half the year living in a trailer/vardo, which people associate with being working class. All gypsy kids are taught to fight from a very young age because whenever we pull on somewhere to open (aka put on the show), we expect a hell of a lot of racism from the locals, which often included getting jumped, often by multiple older gadja/gorja/non-gypsy children - and hell, even adults! As well as knowing how to defend ourselves, this also leads to a lot us developing a bit of a defence mechanism wherein we can talk ourselves out of a situation, or endear ourselves to people quickly in the first place so we don’t get fighting (keeping us safe, and keeping us in the good graces of the locals so we can continue earning a living there) - perhaps this could be explored as part of the reasoning behind the famous Dick Grayson charm? Anyway, all this to say, Dick would fully understand what it’s like to be the poor outsider who has to fight at every corner just to exist, and justifying his existence to others who view themselves as his ‘superiors’.

My final complaint is a small one: every single gypsy I know grows up absolutely BELTING Cher’s ‘Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves’ and the fact that I’ve not seen Dick pouring his heart into that song, screaming the words ‘I was born in the wagon of a travelling show’ is honestly a hate crime which must be fixed immediately.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Something very strange happened, and I think we need to have a talk about the way some people who don't know about Catalan culture misrepresent the Tió (our pre-Christian Christmas present-bringer, a log who poops presents 🪵🎁).

I have a relative who is a teacher in an adult school, she teaches Catalan language (mostly to immigrants). Some days ago, they were doing an activity about Catalan holidays, and two of her students said that Tió should be banned and that it's the worst thing they have ever heard. My relative was very shocked and asked why they could say such a thing (imagine, it's like saying Santa Claus should be banned in the USA). Their reasoning was that they completely misunderstood everything about it. These people are native Spanish speakers and assumed that the Catalan word "tió" (meaning "log" 🪵) means the same as the Spanish word "tío" (meaning "uncle"), even though both words are pronounced differently. They believed that the Tió represents a man and that we tell children to beat people up, so much until they poop themselves, threatening them to give us things. They said it promotes violence to children and that it's disgusting. Nothing further from the truth.

This is not an isolated incident because a few days ago I saw a post on Tumblr repeating this same mistake. I texted the person who posted it saying that it's not called "Poop Uncle" but "Christmas Log" and they said that this was what they were taught by their teacher (this person is from a different continent), and haven't taken down the post. I have also seen comments on Instagram repeating the same and making fun of how gross and violent it is.

The real meaning of Tió

The Log is a way of symbolically passing down our relation with nature. This is how the tradition works:

In early December, we get a log and bring him home. We take care of him: we keep him in a warm place, with a blanket over him, and we feed him things like orange/clementine peels and walnut shells. On Christmas day, all the family comes together. Children get wooden sticks and go get ready in another room, meanwhile adults place presents under the Log's blanket. Children come back and hit the Log while singing a song. There are many local variants of the song but they all come down to asking the Log to poop us good food. When they have finished singing the song, the children remove the blanket and discover the presents that the Log has pooped. Years ago (now this is only done by some farmer families in rural areas, but back in the day this was generalized), the Log was burned in the house's fireplace and its ashes were spread on the fields, believed to act as a magical fertilizer.

Notice what this whole "ritual" has been about: we take care of nature, nature takes care of us, we are part of a whole and there's no real difference between "nature" and "us" because we all give life to each other. After the winter rest, we wake up nature (the Tió) so it will bring fruits and light again.

We take a log from the forest and bring it home. We do this for the Winter Solstice because it's the time of the return of light and the rebirth of nature after the winter sleep, and wood symbolizes the most important things for human life: food, warmth and light. It's difficult for us to imagine nowadays because we are used to electricity, but for our ancestors who only had oil lamps, fire and candles, darkness was almost absolute for many hours in winter, and that's why the Winter Solstice was very important because it meant that light is coming back. We want something from the Log, his fire will allow us to cook, it will give us light, and keep us warm. So we offer him the same: we feed him (notice what we feed it, too: a kind of compost, which is complimentary to human food), we keep him warm, and we love him. Then, we hit him with sticks (mimicking the motion of cutting down a tree) and ask him to give us food, and he does. Then, our ancestors used to burn him for warmth and light, and then take him back to plants spreading his ashes so it will give life to the fields. Which in turn will give us food again, which we will poop and it will fertilize plants again. And it's a cycle that never ends, we're all part of a whole.

We give to the forests, the forests can grow with the remains that all living creatures leave on its ground: leafs, excrements, the remains of parts of our food like nuts and fruit peels. These things give life to the forest. And the forest gives life to us: gives us fruits and wood (=light and warmth). We take these things, and in return we give to forests once again.

Nowadays, the part about warmth and light is often lost to kids, but the part about food is still obvious, even if subconsciously. This is why the Log is not the horrible barbaric tradition that the "haha poop and violence" crowd would make you believe.

And don't get me wrong, it can still be funny! We're the first ones to make jokes about it. And you can, too! But don't spread false ideas: the Spanish word "uncle" appears nowhere near this tradition because it doesn't have anything to do with uncles nor with Spanish-speaking cultures. It's called the Christmas Log (Tió de Nadal, Soca de Nadal, Tronca de Nadal, Tizón de Nadal, etc depending on the area, all meaning "Christmas Log") and it's celebrated by the Catalan people and a part of the Occitan and Pyrenean Aragonese people. The word "poop" (as an imperative verb, as in "please poop for us") appears in the song, but not in the name.

I know that, now that misinformation has gone viral, a post won't stop it. But I hope at least people with a genuine interest can learn some more. By all means, keep laughing! Make all the memes you want! But knowing the whole story will give you understanding. And, please, don't argue in favour of banning our cultural practises, we've had enough of that for centuries.

[cardhamine]

SYSTEM VANNY!!!!!

Pls yap abt system Vanessa more I need to know more so curious!!

here’s some misc things. I’m eepyyy

I think vanessa and vanny are both artists, ness works more realistically and likes acrylic while van’s the one with the spraypaints n cartoons<3 it would loveeeee to fuck around w ink tho i think.

Vanny’s age is weird, ness was 8 when they first split and van was around 12 then but she hasn’t aged much more than 2 years. Sometimes its age changes randomly though, but it usually defaults back to 14 these days.

I think it’s easy for Greg to tell who’s fronting because ness makes an effort to have good posture (ahh the back pain demons) while vanny is a hunched over beastie (used to bunny feet also). On the flip side, vanny spends a lot more energy masking,(afteraffect of dealing with ness’s dad) at least until greg makes her a new bunny mask. It makes her feel safe.

Ness definitely fronts more often but vanny specifically avoids work and other responsibility-related things like the plague, little beast. She takes over cooking for ness tho, as long as knives aren’t involved.

Vanny knows JACK SHIT about repairing robots but she knows some coding. Ness is the tech expert of the two.

[ventique18]

Since Malleus knew how it felt to be deprived of affection and how easily it could drive one insane, he would probably learn from his experiences. Maybe he'd rain his own children with love and affection; nuzzling them every other minute, taking them everywhere he went, showing them off to everyone he met, letting them play in and make a mess of his office. 'Dignity' be damned-- it was much more shameful for a parent not to act like an actual parent in pursuit of regality.

His children would only know this side of him. The man who'd prank his knights with them, who'd build colorful blocks with them, who'd cheer the loudest during their kiddie Spelldrive (he didn't want his kids to lose to the Kingscholar bloodline), who'd even give them unsolicited relationship advice. The man who loved his children to death.

So when, by accident, one of his sons saw a glimpse of his past, the boy couldn't help but tear up when he asked his dad about it.

"Dad, you really are strong. Being so unloved growing up, and still raising us so wholeheartedly..."

"Unloved? I resent that. I had plenty of it."

"But you were alone most of your life! I saw how you had to eat your birthday cake alone year after year--"

The father chuckled. If it were long ago, it would have been a bitter one. But now... "The number of times I was verbally told I was loved matters not. What mattered was that it was there. It was there in fluttering bats bidding good night. It was there in hopes for the future stored in little gifts. It was there in... the final 'see you later', as he asked me to bring back a millennium of stories for us to talk about when we meet again. When ever that would be."

"Dad..." The boy gazed at him, even as he refused to look back.

"He was a brilliant man, that Lilia. Until the end, he never did tell me he loved me." He sighed, as if he was merely talking about the old man forgetting to put his socks in the laundry again. "And yet he taught me how beautiful it was to feel love. To be in love. I managed to reach your mother's heart, because he taught me that I had far too much love inside me to keep to myself. And then it was your mother who taught me how to properly express that love. She taught me that love is patient, and it is kind. Like a warm hearth at night."

Finally, he turned to the boy and met his eyes, "And now, it is my turn to teach you. You must never forget this home. Bring it to your own house, and build upon it.

You must never forget just how much love it took for it to finally reach you, too."