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#should i talk to someone
lazylittledragon · 3 months
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can't believe we're all adults being forced into the club penguin level of censorship in 2024
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ditzybat · 1 month
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just imagining a teeny tiny tim being absolutely devastated about jason’s death, that he manages to get on to dark forums to contact a mercenary for a hit on the joker’s life.
and who happens to be that mercenary? deathstroke.
tim wires money from his (admittedly very high) allowance to slade, who finishes the job within the week — news outlets are going crazy as nobody knows who pulled off such a stunt — bruce is confused, and dick is both grateful, that someone took the bastard who killed his baby brothers life, and angry, because bruce wasn’t the one to do it.
slade however? wants to investigate, someone finally had the gall to order a hit on the joker and he’s a little curious to see who it is.
only come to find a little boy all alone in a big house who spends his nights following around a vigilante in a furry suit.
and, well, slade hasn’t been the best parent, and probably doesn’t know how to deal with an average kid, but who can blame him when he begins to train tim into becoming a mercenary just like him — after all, how else is he gonna defend himself on the streets of gotham when he gallivants around with an expensive camera, a sign basically saying ‘kidnap me!’ strapped to his chest?
so what if the kid becomes robin and uses those skills in the cape? that’s batman’s problem to figure out.
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science-lings · 9 months
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my dad saw ao3 open on my computer and asked if that was like my writing club and just so you know that's what fanfic writers are now, we're all in the same writing club where we all write about the same media and show each other our little stories and that's kind of cool actually
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lesbinewren · 1 year
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truly do not understand people looking at something with dynamic, colorful, beautifully stylized animation and going “okay that’s cool but what if it just looked like real life instead”
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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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sapsolace · 3 months
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obsessed w these boneheads as of late :]
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roydeezed · 4 months
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One thing for those who have watched The Boy and The Heron or will watch it. The Japanese title for it is How Do You Live? And Miyazaki stated he was leaving it for his grandson, saying, "Grandpa is moving onto the next world soon but he is leaving behind this film".
The deaths of contemporaries and friends such as Satoshi Kon and Isao Takahata and also the expected successor of Yoshifumi Kondo were things that have always weighed heavily on the back of Miyazaki's mind.
He recognizes the industry and the occupation for how soul crushing it was, grinding up either the spirit or the physical body of those who work in it. He loves and hates the industry he stands on the peak of and fully recognizes how it will probably be the death of him. And he knows it'll leave him unable to say a lot of things to his Grandson.
So How Do You Live? is a lesson. For his grandson. For himself. For his two sons. And probably for anyone else willing to pay attention.
Hayao Miyazaki is a flawed man that makes things so important to so many people. And I think more than any other film of his, in this you get to pull back the curtain a bit and see him at work. And what should be this giant unblemished titan can be seen for what he is, a sad old man who had higher hopes for himself and has even higher hopes for the people he makes his work for.
It's a beautiful thing to see another's humanity in their work. To look past the artifice and glam of commercialized art and find humans behind it. And humans willing to show their humanity and mortality is even rarer. And something to be celebrated. So when you watch it. Or if you've watched it already. Understand that this film is Miyazaki kneeling down, weary after years of weaving dreams and making mistakes, reaching out and saying to you that he hopes you can do better. It's an old man who's made all the mistakes of the world passing it on to you, hoping you do better, and making sure you know it's okay if you don't.
How do you Live? By making mistakes. By messing up. But still moving forward. And still reaching out.
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crispyliza · 1 month
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I've got you all figured out fanartists
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anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...
#not a shitpost#serious post#ask to tag#tw trauma#cptsd#c-ptsd#and if so we should TALK about it#because it means there are a whole group of survivors out there whose mental health regularly worsens during holidays#like i know i am most certainly not the only person who feels an undefined Dread hanging over christmas/my birthday/july 4 etc#bc too many shitty things happened during those times and now my brain is hypervigilant bc traditionally these are the Danger Times#and this seems like it would be particularly common for survivors of abusive/dysfunctional households (aka most people with c-ptsd)#because holidays/vacations typically mean 1) the whole family is together/being forced to interact#2) and undergoing external stressors e.g. travel/relatives aka 'outsiders' visiting/routines & coping mechanisms being interrupted etc#3) there is social pressure for this to be a Fun Family Bonding Experience which only highlights the cracks in the foundation#and exposes the common Everything Is Fine/We Are A Happy Family lie#4) the cognitive dissonance of feeling tired/anxious/stressed/afraid during a time when you are 'supposed' to be Making Good Memories#and then everyone is angry/tired/anxious/triggered and things boil over and something or someone goes Very Wrong#weird that i'm posting this in october when halloween is...sort of the ONLY holiday i have only good and happy feelings towards#i got lucky there#also i have positive feelings towards Labor Day but that's for socialist reasons
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voiider · 16 days
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I need codependent Danny/Jason as a little treat (for me) and I love the idea of them having some sort of instant connection the moment they meet (bc ghost stuff idk)
Danny who's been dropped in Gotham with no way home (alt universe??) and he's been here for 36 hours and having a Very bad time senses a liminal being and immediately latches onto them heedless of the fact that his new best friend is shooting at some seedy guys in an alley and goes off about how stressed he is and how he can't make it back to the ghost zone and what a bad day he's been having (and it's important to note Danny is a littol ghost boy literally hanging off of Jason's neck as he floats aimlessly) and Jason is like "who are you??" And Danny is like "oh sorry I'm Danny lol" and then just continues lamenting his woes
And honestly ? This might as well happen. Nothing about this Danny guy(is he human?) gives Jason a bad vibe and tbh he's never felt more calm and level headed before so he just keeps up his usual Red Hood patrol and doesn't even think about it when he heads back to a safehouse and feeds Danny dinner (breakfast) before crashing for half the day
The only thing I actually need is Jason meeting up with the bats for some sort of Intel meeting and they're like "uhhh who's that" and Jason is like "that's Danny." And does not elaborate (very ".... What do you have there?" "A smoothie" vibes)
And it takes them a while to realize that these two have known each other for less than 12 hours and are literally attached at the hip
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writer-room · 11 months
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I think another clear theme of Spiderverse is that, as we’re told in the first movie, anyone can be Spider-Man. But in the second movie, Miguel tells us that Spider-Man has rules. Certain things have to happen, certain people have to die, certain people aren’t meant to be Spider-Man. And the message there is that, once someone makes those kinds of rules, you run. Because it’s just not true. Anyone, literally anyone, can be Spider-Man. There is no requirement. We’ve been shown you don’t even need to be bitten by a spider!
And with the amount of people comparing Spiderverse to the queer experience, this is especially important. There are no rules to being queer. There are no labels that are exclusive. There are no labels that are even required. As soon as someone says you can’t be queer in a certain way, or certain identities don’t ‘count’ for whatever reason, you need to run. They are liars. There are no rules, and there never have been. You are queer because you said so, and this is your decision alone.
If you decide you’re Spider-Man, then you’re Spider-Man. And if you decide you’re going to save everyone you can, then you will. It’s as simple as that.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 days
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Reasons to play In Stars and Time: Canon Pronoun Warfare.
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the-amazing-spider-bi · 7 months
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sorry but Jaime Lannister’s characterisation is so funny to me. yes I tried to kill your eight year old but I draw the line at paying people to do my killing for me. you better believe if I want a third grader dead I will do the child murder myself. preferably with a sword so I can look him in the eye while he dies by my blade
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endcraft · 4 months
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i like etho as a mcyt figure because he is like if a computer engineer could be a caveman. like imagine if the guy who invented the watch and the guy who invented the wheel were the same guy. imagine if you were talking to him and he was like oh yeah i also invented the hand axe. and google
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ink-the-artist · 3 months
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holy shit I did NOT realize how popular my "I will remove my teeth, for I want to remain kind despite my anger" quote is. I just googled it for fun to see what would come up, a bunch of people are quoting it not knowing who its from, an artist called Kuma made an album titled that, so bizzare
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dykeinthedark · 4 months
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doing this thing i call "reading every class high school lit book i missed out on" partially because as an english minor i feel like a lot of ppl in my english lectures have already read these books in higschool partially because high school english classes suck balls and i think the way they taught kids to read books was lame and dumb as hell and killed love for reading and i think some of these books they make kids read should never be experienced in a classroom setting
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