#y’all know how it be
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
fruitbasketball · 8 months ago
Note
This made me think of you 😭
https://x.com/nickzararis/status/1799102940898336917?s=46&t=Gn3bm8I1pVcEJgVdpfpC_w
lord 😭
5 notes · View notes
hamletthedane · 1 year ago
Text
I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.
What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.
What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.
What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.
The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.
And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.
But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.
I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.
28K notes · View notes
visenyaism · 1 month ago
Note
no you're being terfy for trying to shame women who DO want to be feminine and cutesy, we're still women even if we're not your perception of women
Explain to me how it is transphobic to say that you should not joke about how you are bad at math because you are a girl because that is misogynistic. Actually, explain to me why it’s cutesy to say that girls are bad at math. How is it feminine to say that girls are bad at math. How is that particular message factoring into your gender presentation. What is feminine or cutesy about thinking women are worse at any implied skill than men like either the skill level or the gender are immutable absolutes. What is going on
3K notes · View notes
yuutaguro · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
me when my father took me into the city to see a marching band 💀
1K notes · View notes
lycandrophile · 1 year ago
Text
it’s so funny to me that people used to try to warn me “if you go on t it won’t make you androgynous it’ll just make you look like a man” because 1) i do want to look like a man, that is famously a major part of being a trans man but also 2) t literally has made me androgynous?? like they were wrong on both counts. i got most of the looking-like-a-man changes that i wanted (deep voice, broader body, hair all over my body including my face) and i also give every single cis person in a five mile radius a stroke every time they try to figure out my gender. the assumption that trans men wouldn’t actually want to look like men and the assumption that cis people are good at correctly gendering us once we’re on t are both weird as hell.
4K notes · View notes
fleur-dans-la-nuit · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Dick gaslights himself 💀.
These images aren’t mine, they’re from the Wayne Family Adventures comic on Webtoon. I just used them as they’re easy identifiers of each character, also in the same style.
2K notes · View notes
alabasterpickles · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’m back with more extremely specific content that I’m extraordinarily late to enjoy!! Anyway — my sister got me into the Arcana last month and I’ve been really enjoying it (never got into it when it was releasing for some reason)
I’m very slow to make art these days and I have some other drawings of my faves in process still, but I figured I’d share some recent sketches with you all for the hell of it (I’m impatient)
1K notes · View notes
britcision · 2 years ago
Text
Guys I have spoken to teens on this website and it never occurred to me before but
How are the kids finding us these days
Y’all seeing the memes and posts on other platforms and just following over? Are we “cool” again? I’ve only been back since mobile was a feasible option but I find this fascinating from an anthropological perspective
I’ve got a decade on most of my cousins and I doubt any of them have even heard of tumblr but they’re hitting 20s now so have we looped back around?
Guys is tumblr retro????
Please do not tell me your actual age just give me the vibes
9K notes · View notes
housecow · 7 days ago
Note
seeing you outright mention you have death feedism tendencies is like a shotgun to the chest (positive)
i have a medical phobia that’s somehow twisted itself into death feedism ngl. also, evil feeders. 😳
someone hellbent on keeping me as fat as possible for as long as they can—knowing what cocktail of drugs keeps my heart pumping, dumbing me down and keeping me pliant with edibles hidden in my food, waking me up every few hours for feedings and funnel sessions instead of letting me sleep so the weight piles on faster than it should..
somewhere deep down i know it’s not good for me. maybe my feeder tells me about all the health problems i have while the feeding tube is in my mouth and i can barely think, but i can’t focus on what they’re saying without getting overwhelmed. if i don’t remember later, it doesn’t really matter, right?
maybe occasionally i’d “come to my senses,” during a lull in the feedings. when my feeder is busy and away for a while, after i’ve made my way through a small mountain of snacks and the mini fridge (full of shakes laced with THC to keep me docile) is just out of reach. maybe i’d try to get up, only to collapse back down because my knee problems finally caught up to me and fuck, it hurts to even try to walk. maybe then i’d finally take a look at where i am, how i’ve given up my life for someone’s (and my own, let’s be real) sick pleasure.
i’d have to deal with that realization for a while. maybe i’d start to cry, unable to handle the reality. eventually, though, my feeder would come back. they’d find me in this state and console me, getting the funnel ready because they can hear my stomach rumbling and it’s been too long since i’ve eaten. they’ll coo into my ear about how it’s all okay, how i asked for this and it’s what we both want.
they’d give my belly a shake, grasping the lowest roll in their hands and enjoying the way it makes my entire body wobble. they’d press a kiss onto the vast expanse of fat above my belly button, an area they were so excited to see expand under their care. they’d struggle a bit to lift one of my tits, eager to see how my breath hitches at the thought of their mouth on me. these are all distractions. they’ve mastered this game of manipulation and there’s no way i’d be able to find my way out of their control. their touch, the food they offer me, even those moments when i’m not high or in a haze of fullness and pleasure, were meant to further ensnare me and ensure i’m theirs for as long as i live.
my health, my life, is in my feeder’s hands. they know what’s best. as long as i keep eating, keep taking the pills they hand me, keep ignoring how hard it is to move and breathe, it will all be fine. or, that’s what i’d tell myself.
737 notes · View notes
souplups · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
east is up
1K notes · View notes
royaltea000 · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Mama a monkey behind you
871 notes · View notes
aziraphalalala · 1 year ago
Text
What if it’s 4am and you can’t stop thinking about two ageless eldritch horrors divorce-kissing? What then?
3K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Thoughts and doodles
.
(Please do not use, or repost my works anywhere without explicit permission from me thank you <3)
881 notes · View notes
theswedishpajas · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
FINALLY breaking myself free from the chains that are rendered Fords… STANLEY, MY LOVE, I AM HERE TO AT LAST APPRECIATE YOUR FACE HOW IT DESERVES!!!!!
315 notes · View notes
yourlocalabomination · 7 months ago
Text
Gotta teach them young.
Tumblr media
877 notes · View notes
whipbogard · 13 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Catching up with Ram V’s run on Detective Comics and whoever decided to make him wear the grey suit, let me kiss your hand 😩💕
369 notes · View notes