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#fuck me I hate everything
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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comradekatara · 19 days
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> be zuko
> try desperately to ingratiate yourself within the avatar’s friend group (to no avail, of course, because you have terrible social skills, and previously tried to kill them, also)
> try to fight off the human wmd you previously hired to blow them all up
> fail miserably, because he is indestructible
> watch as sokka effortlessly kills him with a very precise boomerang throw to the brain
> suddenly recall every single time you got hit in the head by his boomerang
> feel immense gratitude for what you had previously dismissed as uncle’s obnoxiously stringent and paranoid over-emphasis on the importance of helmet safety
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arunneronthird · 1 year
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okay fine i can deal with damian being a weeb but he'll be one on MY TERMS
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thatexygurl · 4 days
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there's so many things in tsc that just come at you all at once, so it's hard to focus on just one thing to break down, but the most glaring thing that stood out to me is how hard it is to really put someone back together. especially someone so shattered that it's nigh impossible to glue them back and pray they don't crumble under your ministrations.
if jean is neil's foil, then jeremy is andrew's direct antithesis. whereas andrew is a steady bedrock because he's been broken too many times to know how to weather the storm, jeremy is too soft hands and an even softer soul. he cares and cares and cares. so empathetic and so gentle it almost breaks your heart. you pray for the impossibility that jeremy can survive knowing the truth because if he doesn't, then what hope does jean have? so you pray he can be steady too. that he can weather the storm as well. that he will not break when knowing that just under the surface lies shark-infested waters.
but then you remember the beginning. "even knowing everything could go completely sideways, you'd make that choice every time"
in every other universe, jean has not survived. but in every other universe, he did not have the trojans.
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suntails · 3 days
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toot toot!
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Got a crack idea about Gonzo being married to Ms.Beagle and is Barnaby's stepdad lol
why would you say this? im obsessed
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instantly reminded me of those family photos w/ a stepparent where the kid is Visibly pissed the hell off
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lotus-pear · 9 months
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never forgiving bones for fucking up this scene
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aroaceleovaldez · 6 months
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Nico and Percy's dynamic through the series is eternally funny to me, because it's just. like.
Percy's having a constant mental struggle between his fatal flaw of loyalty with a promise he made to Bianca to protect Nico, versus his Big 3 kid desire to maim other Big 3 kids / Poseidon descendant urge to totally maim Nico specifically. He hates Nico so so much. He thinks Nico's annoying and weird at best, and creepy/sketchy when he's older. The only positive thoughts Percy has towards Nico are "He's Bianca's brother and Bianca was my friend and I owe her/He's Hazel's brother and Hazel is my friend and would kill me if I was mean to him," "He's a powerful asset and useful ally (if questionable)," and "He's kinda pathetic and I feel maybe a little bad about it." Percy has multiple occasions throughout the series where he strongly considers - and on one occasionally actually goes through with - throttling Nico.
Meanwhile, Nico is following around Percy like a lost puppy. He explicitly can never bring himself to even dislike anything about Percy no matter how hard he tries. He has a whole bit in BoO where he's mentally going "UGH he's so stupid BUT IT'S ENDEARING HOW DARE HE." He's totally smitten. He's making deals with his dad for Percy. He's making convoluted plans to help Percy stand a chance against Kronos. During the entirety of BoTL it's like he's playing tsundere - "I'm helping NOT PERCY SPECIFICALLY with this quest! Me helping Percy would be SILLY because I DEFINITELY HATE HIM." Then he proceeds to show up to Percy's birthday party to basically ask him on a weird date and spend the entire next book scrambling around trying to help him or protect him or impress him. And Percy could not give less of a shit.
Just. That dynamic is so funny to me. Percy is the founder of the Nico Protection Club in that he's the one they're all protecting Nico from and meanwhile Nico is throwing himself at Percy to the point where the literal god of gay love calls him out on it.
#pjo#percy jackson#nico di angelo#Percy shows up at CJ and squints at Nico like ''hm. why do i feel like i hate you? like i just wanna punch you in the face?''#and Nico just immediately goes ''huh no idea anyways i have to go-'' and jumps into Tartarus#but not before he gives Hazel essentially a detailed explanation of ''this is Percy i cant say much but please dont let him die <3''#and Nico's whole Tartarus trip was basically a whole ''im doing this so no one else has to''#only for Percy and Annabeth to fall in like one book later and Nico proceeds to spend the next book internally screaming about it#and then Cupid calls him out on it and the next book#Nico's just like ''at this point im hoping i keel over within the next week just so i can force this dumb crush to chill the fuck out''#Nico staring pointedly at Will: ''For my own sake i need to form another crush RIGHT NOW so i can finally get over Percy.''#''this has been so bad for my health''#Nico's crush on Percy is just too funny to me. horrible pick my guy. terrible job. love that for you. he could not be less interested.#Percy LITERALLY TRIES TO KILL NICO and ditch him in the underworld and Nico is somehow STILL like ''but i love him''#Percy basically chokes him. beats up his dad. tells him ''go get smited by your dad for me.'' and ditches him.#and Nico's opinions/crush on him DO NOT CHANGE#though also Nico's reaction to Percy beating up his dad + skeletons is SO funny. his jaw is on the floor. he's flustered about it.#he just witnessed Percy be incredibly hot and proceeded to go ''yea i'll do anything for this man. collect reinforcements of 3 gods? sure''#nico you absolute DISASTER with HORRIBLE TASTE. you can do better. raise your standards.#which tbh is funnier when you factor in sun and the star. Nico just wont stop crushing on guys who dislike him and everything he stands for
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breadmecoshy · 4 months
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Oumota comic, Part 1
Headcanon - Kaito has nicotine withdrawal during the events of Danganronpa V3 (among other things, what happens to him there). Just a cute little comic
Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/breadmecoshy/747478711136354304/jhgfd?source=share
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This headcanon was born out of Kaito's official art with a tobacco pipe, and how irritable and aggressive Kaito is sometimes portrayed
I think he started smoking with the handouts of his older comrades at his astronomical internship. Maybe he thought it was cool, or maybe he just didn't want to be perceived as a child :D
To be continued! (and only Kaito and Kokichi will be in it, I promise)
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hazel2468 · 4 months
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At this point, “OP is a Zionist” means “OP is a Jew who has spoken about the rampant and violent antisemitism in leftists spaces and it makes me feel icky that a kike dares to express their opinion because I’m a racist bigot, so I’ll call them a Zio and that means I can get away with being outright racist about Jews because it’s acceptable to hate ‘Zionists’- and if any other Jews call me out, I’ll just say they’re Zionists, too!”
You absolute fucking ghouls couldn’t be more transparent if you tried. You’re not allies. You’re not good people. You do not care about human rights. Your “activism” is the smokescreen you put up to hide the fact that you get off on hating Jews. Your “activism” is about nothing more than making you feel good and getting your little brownie points from other antisemites online.
We see you. We know the deal. At least the fucking Nazis had the guts to say outright that they want every Jew dead. You’re so cowardly that you have to couch it in social justice language and beat around the bush.
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inkskinned · 7 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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brainrot-yumm · 2 years
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currently completely livid that this fucking art piece isn’t done yet. It’s due by noon tomorrow and I still need to color in the entire fucking background. I’ve been working on this for literally over 20 hours and there’s still a full candle uncolored. I want to die.
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zorosdimples · 3 months
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i want him to fuck me like his life depends on it, like he can’t live without me, like he loves me with his entire being
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missmeinyourbones · 1 year
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SUNA + THE FIRST TIME HE SAYS I LOVE YOU
send in a character + trope for a blurb
...
you should've been asleep. you're always asleep before him, so why would this time be any different?
suna knows the drill like the back of his hand by now. you fight off your inevitable slumber as hard as you can, trying to stay awake for no good reason until you eventually ignore his annoyances and succumb to sleep.
tonight shouldn’t have been any different.
"hey," a finger prods against your cheek, testing the waters.
when a groan bubbles from your throat but your eyes remain closed, suna knows you’re at the ‘barely hanging on to consciousness’ stage of your sleep schedule. he uses a hand to gently squeeze your cheeks together.
“stop.”
it comes out slightly muffled by your squished lips. he huffs a laugh through his nose, “what?"
you groan into the pillow, escaping his loose grasp.
"go to sleep," he whispers, and though you can’t see him, you can practically hear the menacing grin on his face through his tease.
if your eyes were open, you’d roll them. "i’m trying to."
and it’s routine, comforting to the two of you. suna waits there in the dark, like he always does, until your breathing evens out and replicates the deep inhales of when he knows you’re out for good.
he brings his finger back up to your face, but this time, instead of poking your cheek with the incentive of aggravating you, he runs it softly across your cheekbone and then down your jawline with purpose. he’s sure to notice how your eyelids don’t flicker at the sudden touch, how your breathing never hitches with his lingering fingers.
you’re asleep by his side. and just like that, vulnerability oozes from suna’s core.
so he mans up in the most pathetic way possible and presses a kiss to your head. between the space of skin and lips comes a muffled whisper that he’s been dying to say for ages now, but hasn’t quite found the courage to say clearly. 
"i love you."
it’s quiet for a moment, not a sound filling the room beside the air conditioner rattling in the window. and while suna plans to continue caressing your face, he freezes when he feels the smile growing beneath his fingertips. 
you open a single eye groggily, voice raspy when you perk up with a teasing, "what'd you say?"
"nothing," he responds quickly, trying his best to defuse the situation while simultaneously not making a big deal out of it. "you're hallucinating, go back to sleep."
"i was sleeping,” you continue to press, “but i heard something weird."
suna grimaces at your choice of vocabulary before grounding himself in your light tone. you’re not angry or upset, at least not enough for him to hear it in your voice. so he slowly eases himself back onto his pillow. 
"if you heard something, which you definitely didn't," he enunciates, "i don't think it was something weird."
"well if wasn't weird, then what was it?"
through the darkness of the bedroom, he can just barely make out your hopeful eyes, and he can imagine the giddy smile on your pretty face, so he exhales and swallows his pride.
"true," he admits, before hissing out in defeat, "and fucking embarrassing."
your laughter warms the bed and suna feels like he’s floating.
"true and embarrassing," you repeat through sleepy giggles, "just how i like 'em,"
his face is flushed as it hides in his pillow. "are you done making fun of me yet?"
he hears you shuffle in closer before he feels your breath on his arm.
"i will be if you say it again now that i'm awake," you barter.
"technically you were awake the first time i said it."
"rintaro," you whine, and when he doesn't give in so easily, you elaborate. "now that you know that i'm awake."
a bit more confident in his conviction, he brings his hand up once more to find your cheek. 
"i said i love you," he whispers, "like an idiot."
your laughter returns, and when you wrap your arms around his torso and press your nose in the crook of his neck, he can practically feel it warming his bones.
you place a kiss to his neck with a sigh of victory, "that's what i thought.”
a few minutes eventually pass in his hold, and suna would say you have to be asleep now, but he’s learned his lesson the hard way and isn’t one to make the same mistake twice.
and he’s glad because right before he drifts off himself, he feels your head rise from his chest and a gentle kiss placed on his chapped lips.
"i love you, too,” you press into his mouth like a secret, “idiot."
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crunchchute · 2 months
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Mr. Raglan
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bamboozled-distress · 12 days
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omniman doesn’t even need his whole redemption arc, him simply saying “i think i miss my wife” has like actually altered my brain like he’s already redeemed to me like do you know how insane it is for literally everything he’s done and how uncleansed he is and how he knew he couldn’t go back and through everything when he knows he’s going to die he just. he misses his wife. he misses his wife he misses his wife he misses his wife he misses his wife he misses his wi
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