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#and that's what most ppl do
inkskinned · 7 months
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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.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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caruliaa · 1 year
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staff still hasn't given me polls, what should i do?
🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 their moms 69%
🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 their dads 31%
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grace image os i get to look at her
#edit: edited the og post to what i want but to set the record straight i edited to the post to be mathematically correct right after the#first person pointed it out which was like ten mins after i posted the og post. now fuck offf !!!!! the rest of the tags r from the og post#for some reason i feel very immature making your mom jokes about tumblr staff. which i shldnt !!#bc they suck nd they still havent given me polls. but i ig i feel imature bc it a your mom joke 😭 but still i tihnk its kinda funny#EDIT: edited the post to what i want bc yall were getting annoying . but to set the record straight i edited to post to be mathematically#also its *mum* not mom okay i am NOT !! an american . but if i say mum everyone will j be like 'omg british' like i dont know i am#anyway. i want polls please. give me the rigght to force my mutuals chose between the most inane things#also i tihnk it wld b cool for the cs weekly blog. like w each episode#i cld do a poll of like. out of five stars what do u think of this ep#and it wld b a cool thing of which eps r ppls faves#also i cld have like. whose ur fave in team red whos ur fave in acme etc#id prob just have to go with vile faculty bc theres more than 10 ppl in vile. and ppl wld kill me if i didnt include nel the ell or whoever#it wld b fun !!!#oh btw csweekly thats i thing i want to start. prob on uhhh the 11th of feb ill post abt it more but its basically#a tag/blog for watching cs one ep a time watching one ep every saturday#ya !! :3#flappy rambles#inaccessible#ask to tag#(<- idk. just in case)
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thesarcasticism · 1 month
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what did he mean by this
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stevebabey · 1 year
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part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")
So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.
Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.
Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.
So, it’s an Eddie thing.
But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.
Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.
Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.
And this thing with Eddie… is not that.
So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.
(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)
And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve notices though. He always notices.
It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.
It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.
Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.
But he can’t fucking tell.
-
To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.
Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.
Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.
Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.
It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.
So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.
Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.
But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.
A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.
After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.
But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.
It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.
So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.
It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…
Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.
And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.
Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.
Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.
It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.
“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”
He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”
Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.
“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”
Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.
Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.
“Mm?”
“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.
But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.
Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.
“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—
Unless…?
“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!
“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.
“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.
“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.
Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.
Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.
Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.
Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.
“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.
“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”
There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.
“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.
“Do you want to try again?”
Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.
Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”
‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.
It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.
And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.
It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.
“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.
“Can I... have a hickie?”
now with a part three !
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robotpussy · 3 months
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bruciemilf · 1 year
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Having so many de aged! Jason feelings. I might just burst.
Dick and Tim theorize on how a small, happy little baby winded up in Jason's apartment. It's no secret their brother, a wall of bulk with a tender core, houses the homeless sometimes.
Maybe the baby is someone's? But if so, why was he alone? Jason isn't exactly famous for his unquestionable wisdom, but he's too caring to leave a defenceless infant by himself.
More importantly, why is this baby rolling on his tummy on a familiar brown jacket, evidently craving to be picked up?
"Can you take him? I'm not..." Tim's not good with kids; It's a running joke among them. Even If there's nothing comical about this.
Dick nods. His pride does swell when the baby giggles and coos.
"He has good taste."
" Okay, Narcissus. Let's take him home before your head pops,'' was Tim just a tiny bit jealous this little chubby cheeked thing was snuggling close to Dick, while downright glowering at him?
Maybe. A little. But babies were glorified chunks of meat, shaped just enough like a human to be considered cute. What did they know?
So they get home. It's a pleasant rarity, but they're all in one place.
All except Bruce, of course. Too busy bleeding on the streets to spend any time with them, Dick huffs,
Poor Damian is trying to jump and leap amongst them giants, struggling to take a peek at their young guest, " Grayson! I want the baby!"
" He's not a toy, Dami," they all share a silent look, clearly thinking the same thing. He got it from Bruce,
"What does it do?"
" He's a baby, Steph. He's not even aware he exists!"
" God I wish that were me,"
Duke looks at Babybird, as Dick affectionately took to calling him, with a strange, quizzical look, " He looks familiar. You said you found him at Jay's?"
" Yeah, but I'm taking him to a firestation. I just had to show B. You know he likes volunteering at daycares. Maybe he'll recognize him."
" Recognize who?"
Babybird was chewing on his own foot when the elevator doors slid open. Cass wasn't a wordsmith.
She read movements and actions as one listens to music.
Every member of her beloved family was a song of their own; Dick was motivational and calming.
Stephanie was packed with action, brimming with electrifying energy that just made you want to jump.
Tim was clean and precise with accents of pop. Duke was light and happy and silently confident. Damian was angry, and passionate and brave.
Bruce was powerful, sad, and perfectly tragic.
But when Babybird shrieked, yelled out in happiness and excitement and tried to wiggle out of Dick's arms with a sunshine beam and grabby hands?
Her father was a love song.
"Jay," The name sounds like Bruce is choking. His eyes are burning with tears, marching directly to Dick, " Jay? Jay!"
" Wh--"
"Dada!" Babybird, -- Jason? They only now noticed the white curl bouncing on top of his head, ( their inner detectives groan) " Dadadada, pap papi pap,"
They can't do anything, frozen in place, as Bruce spends the following two hours planting a garden of kisses on Jason's cheeks, full with laughter, while they read and color and build blocks.
"Uh, Bruce? I'm...I'm gonna call Zatanna."
" In a minute."
" DAD, --"
" In a minute."
It wasn't just a minute. It was an entire week.
As ridiculous as it was? They were starting to get jealous.
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taxinealkaloids · 1 year
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horrible children who are. so so mean to each other
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gerandor · 8 months
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Nandor babygirl you were so unhinged for this
gifs by the ever awesome @deliciousnecks
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dandelion-roots · 4 months
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[ID: a digital redraw of the scene where chuuya shoots dazai in the shoulder. on the top of the drawing is chuuya holding a guy to dazai's head in the red and grey hallways of the prison. on the bottom of the drawing is dazai's pained face. the gunshot is shown stylistically as hectic lines behind his bloody shoulder. over the image is half a quote from goncharov that reads 'if we really were in love you wouldn't have missed.' the signature says dandelion-roots. end ID]
This quote from Goncharov (1973) in relation to soukoku has been haunting me from before I even got to that scene in the anime (the full thing is: Katya- Of course we're in love, that's why I tried to shoot you/ Goncharov- If we really were in love you wouldn't have missed). Violence as a tool for communicating emotions, especially love and hatred, especially love and hatred makes me go feral- how could I not think of the iconic quote that says that katya's miss was a sign of a lack of love/a fake love when chuuya didn't miss? Just... losing it over here.
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tariah23 · 11 days
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oooooo white people in my replies really saying ‘I can excuse racism but I draw the line at homophobia’
Not surprised since this is the site that only talks about racism and thinks it’s a big deal when they see it demonstrated in the cartoons and comics they like *coughs* dungeonmeshi *coughs* (for example at least. I haven’t seen THIS many white ppl talk as in depth about racism on here as much as these fandom nerds, man. I stg. Like “Ohhhh, so you all DO acknowledge that racism is real? Just not in real life even if you could feel it slapping you in the face at high speed. Gotcha.” It’s crazy.
Tumblr is like, 90% white and is extremely centered around them. That’s why you barely see stuff that’s important to black and brown people ever trending here or being talked about. It has to be something incredibly huge to the point where even white people can’t ignore it like they usually do, to talk about it here.
They only talked about George Floyd here because the topic of his death became world news. Even people in other countries were talking about it. Before him, it was probably Ferguson and Trayvon Martin… most of them are still trying their best to ignore the genocides because it’s a “touchy subject.” What do you expect from white people who live in their own bubbles of comfort and refuse to pop it with a needle??? They find comfort in their privilege and faux ignorance (they love playing stupid to avoid conversations about important things outside of fandoms like, are these mfs born with half a brain dedicated to fandom or what.) That’s literally all these mfs make a big deal out of, especially on this annoying ass platform. The ao3 mfs will go to war for the site that allows racist ff and cp like it’s no big deal. I wonder how many people here even donated to the site while actively scrolling past dono posts from folks who really do need help. They act like they’re doing a civil service by defending this site that makes over the amount of it’s intended dono goal in minutes.
Then you already know as soon as you even bring up racism in the stuff they like, they start ganging up and harassing black bloggers especially, calling them TERFs and the whole nine. Anything to make that person look bad for being concerned about the racism that they have such an intense aversion to. God, it’s absolutely exhausting knowing that these people would have no problem choosing a cartoon character over your entire existence if they COULD. Isn’t that fucking sad, man?
#:(#it’s like what can you do#as a black person I get why sm black bloggers here have ‘don’t follow me if you’re white’ in their bios#they’ll call it racist or whatever (it’s fucking not you guys just treat black ppl like shit here and most of us feel unsafe to interact#with y’all. you guys always turn on us at the drop of a hat)#i remember commenting on a HS post funny enough years ago#because the punchline of the post was literally the white mfs saying nigga#and I was so annoyed that I told them off and one of my white mutuals unfollowed meanjsjsjsl#like right after that#and another unfollowed me because I talk about racism and the like a lot like this is a really well known artist too so I was like 🧍🏾‍♀️?#because I talk about racism a lot??? it’s weird lol#like they’ll tolerate you for a while then when they feel offended they start to act weird and act like you’re not supposed to talk about#the stuff that effects you#tkf replies#karmelarts#they don’t give a shit about anything if it doesn’t personally Involve them#they act like they can’t relate to anyone or anything it they aren’t marginalized themselves (being gay or trans which they treat as a#personality trait)#notice how you never see movies/ shows about black and brown ppl trending here? it’s always white centered shit no#matter how hot and popular that show might be#you’ll never see something like the wire snowfall or power trending here#all of the black ppl are on twitter anyway so#sm black ppl got ran off of here by annoying white ppl
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turtleblogatlast · 29 days
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No but like every time I think about Splinter and what he had to go through just to keep the boys alive, my heart hurts for him so badly. Is he perfect? No not at all, but none of them are and by god does he love his sons.
The fact that all of them are alive, and grew to thrive despite the circumstances surrounding them is a testament of how much Splinter loves his boys. He raised four babies following the most traumatic time of his life, all alone with nothing but the sewers to house them (to hide them.) I feel like he’s not given the credit he deserves for all he’s done.
And I get that it’s easy to hold up his flaws and faults when it comes to parenting, I myself like looking into them because flawed characters are super interesting and said flaws make them more realistic and engaging, but he tries, and again, so many others would have given up on the boys or failed along the way but Splinter didn’t.
He’s their father, for all his faults he did his damndest to make sure they survived.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt splinter#rise splinter#he’s not perfect as I’ve said#and he’s got a whole slew of flaws and faults#but he’s a person - we are all flawed#he loves his sons dearly dearly dearly even if he struggles along the way to show that#parenting is not easy! especially as a traumatized mutant who is forced to do it alone#side note but I think this is one of the reasons why it kiiiiiinda ruffles my feathers to see so many people assign parentification to Raph#and in turn make Splinter out to be way worse and way more distant than he is in canon?#like idk I just don’t see what so many others see ig but maybe that’s just me#i guess my thoughts are like- let parents have flaws without villainizing them?#they’re still parents even if they mess up?#we can discuss the repercussions of a parents actions on a child while not casting that parent as an awful person#parents are peopleeee#I could go on but yeahhh#idk it bothers me seeing splinter’s efforts undermined when he’s been through so much#idk if ppl realized this by now but I love me some flawed characters#tho I do think in this fandom the ones whose faults are discussed the most are like#Splinter mostly then Draxum then Leo#of the main cast#and in Splinters case in particular his faults are made to cover his good qualities which makes me sad#because he is SO INTERESTING#they’re all flawed characters and tbh so interesting because their flaws are ALSO their strengths in many aspects
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inkskinned · 8 months
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they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?
they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.
you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.
you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.
mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.
you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.
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introspectivememories · 2 months
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the funniest possible thing that could happen is if mercedes keeps hiring childhood best friends for their team and everybody's holding their breath waiting for them to tear each other apart like brocedes except it doesn't happen bc everyone else is normal about each other and brocedes is just that fucked up that they would've torn each other apart even if they were on different teams
#i like to think that in this hc both nico and lewis were waiting for the new team to tear each other apart just so they could feel like what#happened to them was an inevitability. except the new team doesn't tear each other apart and now they have to deal with the fact it was#their faults. not competing for the championship or the stress of being on the same team but just them. ripping each other apart for even#the slightest advantage. just them digging their fingers into the rotting carcass of their childhood friendship to hit each other where it#hurts. just them cannibalizing their childhood dream for even the most miniscule chance of beating each other. and what do you do then?#when the reason your friendship fell apart is bc you two couldn't put each other before the trophy? and what do you do when you know that#you wouldn't be you if you chose each other? what then? maybe it was inevitable. maybe it was fate.#auugh i love the inevitability of tragedies!!! this all came bc ppl kept saying that albon in merc would be brocedes 2.0 and like no!!! no#will ever be brocedes 2!!! nobody has the drama or the ethos/pathos/logos to be brocedes 2.0!! you dont have the frosties or the dreams or#greece!!! you dont have greece!!! and more importantly!!! nico and lewis were /weird/ about each other!!! no 1 else on this grid is weird#about each other the way nico and lewis were/are!!! nobody else is obsessed with each other the way they were!!!#anyway breakdown over#nico rosberg#lewis hamilton#brocedes#f1
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nonbinaryaubrey · 29 days
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sunnys mom isnt a perfect parent but she isnt fuckinggg. evil. which i feel is a thing a lot of people tend to fall into. kiiind of take her flaws as a parent and interpret them as malicious and that shes a bad person when she isnt!! shes a grieving single parent and shes not going to do everything right!! but she still loves and cares and she tries. shes not flawless shes done things wrong probably but!! shes not a fucking evil or awful person
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Also I am. Constantly forgetting how fucking funny Hunter is. We never give him enough credit for how funny he is because his life is so fucked up but I swear 90% of his lines are just bit after bit after bit. He's not even trying either. Anytime he actively tries to make a joke it falls flat but if you just put him in a Scenario he'll find a way to be so over invested and yet out of touch/at odds with whatever's going on. He's so autistic
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bruciemilf · 1 year
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One of my biggest pet peeves is the justice league being labelled as " The Avengers of DC" and its like. No? The avengers are law enforcement. The Justice League are volunteers
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