#long post

[climbingthefloors]

moo deng vs the world

[staff]

Tumblr Tuesday: Roan of Art

It's fine, it's cool. This is happening. Chappell Roan is Roan of Arc, champion and savior of sword lesbians and queer kids the world over. And, of course, the art goes so hard.

@inkeyjay:

@eerna:

@nakakabaliw:

@polartss:

@slothliart:

@vickychendraws:

@loren91:

@caratbow:

@starspilli:

@lucidpeech:

@xieliancore:

@cheesy-cryptid:

@limeariee:

@boopbeepbadoop:

@looceyloo:

@dandelionfool:

@stardroppoetry:

@formulanni:

@starlightrise:

@tranjerine:

@faithschaffer:

@fluffielox:

@arinmoss:

@boociforme:

@rebe-draws:

[bigfatbreak]

they both got bonked for being silly.

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [PART 3]

The beginning of a delightful new partnership!

Bonus below:

[ym523]

C0mm for @allymcfee ❤️Bg ripped by @bhaalbaaby 🩷

[christadeguchi]

this is porn to me

[sdktrs12]

Practical Magic (1998) dir. Griffin Dunne | Costume Design by Judianna Makovsky

[choiyeonjuns]

YEONJUN :: GGUM

[sirfrogsworth]

Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!

So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.

I am becoming a social butterfly. 

And it is exhausting.

But also good.

First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.

And that went great.

But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart. 

The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after. 

I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.

We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.

He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form. 

So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.

I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).

The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.

So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.

This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.

So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.

Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.

Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.

My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.

I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.

On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view. 

My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.

As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.

The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.

After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla. 

Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid. 

We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again. 

Dinner ended and it was picture time.

I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option. 

I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.

I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal. 

Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.

My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.

I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.

I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.

I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.

This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.

There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.

I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.

A literal rainbow of options.

I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.

And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night. 

And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot. 

I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.

After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.

But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)

So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

[ultyso]

Sudan updates as of 9/17/2024

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[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

not be able communicate by words means… constantly be misunderstood. misinterpreted. not have any way show own perspective, your side of story. your story always written talked about interpreted read thru other people.

someone did something wrong you. someone hurt you. someone say wrong thing…

someone make up malicious thing about you. maybe that you rude ungrateful bad temper behavior problem. it now become truth it now become you because there no way you correct them.

you can’t educate them. you can’t explain it to them. nevermind that, for example, you severely disabled n having symptoms that impact quality of life, or have symptoms that dare inconvenience people - can only watch as people around you speak “for” you not with your interest in mind but of their own selfishness - that people who can communicate by word say you only do that because you lazy, you selfish, want attention, on purpose, just want to for no reason, faking, inherent personality flaw.

not just big things. more often it those small things that build up every day, happen tens n hundreds of times each day, every day, every week, every month, every year… more often it those small things that add up that break you.

imagine everything bad, incorrect, & bad and incorrect thing said about you in your life. n now imagine you not able defend yourself, explain yourself, or even say those wrong not true.

n any attempt of yours to maybe protest, not enough, people not understand, or downright not listened to, made fun of. at first you shake head make noise meaning no all calm. after while of it not work you get frustrate n it start showing. you get impatient n snappy, why none of you understand, is any of you even trying. but people around you with privilege of able communicate n defend self thus never have experience of not have that, find it such basic of skill that they no longer see it as acquired skill but instead see as innate, born in, natural, cannot imagine person not have it just like can’t imagine living person not breathing—they only see their perspective n only see their interaction n not the many, hundreds n thousands, of previous communication where no one understood you (or even tried to). so they mock you (sometimes they the one who on purpose provoke you to see your reaction like you monkey in cage for their entertainment), geez big reaction why can’t you be patient. n you get label, impatient, rude, explosive, anger issues.

you protest in only way you can without words. you do it by sounds n noises n movement. you raise voice you scream you smash thing around you you hit yourself in frustration you hit other people who don’t understand you because you frustrated at their incompetence n how much they failing you. because. show me another way person can communicate without words. show me way that one can continue do after tens n thousands of misinterpretations n miscommunications n malicious interactions, n still remain calmly, “appropriately.”

you communicate in only way you can with only emotion you can feel at this point: anger, frustration, helpless. be misunderstood, even smallest innocent one, become trauma become trigger. miscommunication alone can set it off, make you see red n see billion of previous miscommunication where everyone failed you n left you to fend for self. then the backhanded jab that sometimes follow, that make thing exponentially worse.

you communicate in only way you can with only emotion left you can feel that consume you. loud sounds, screaming, get physical. it not earn you be understood. it only earn you this: be called impatient, irrational, explosive, land mine, rude, ungrateful, annoying…

“behavior issues.”

and that’s another misinterpretation of you you can’t defend yourself against. cycle repeats.

n other verbal people only listen to other verbal people. so these descriptions of you become “your truths”.

n the true you left there. to rot.

a lot people with no functional communication (either because no ability, or because circumstances) labeled as have behavior issues. yeah, no fucking shit. try it for a while. anyone would “have behavioral issues” in these circumstances.

no one seem to care. so okay fuck yeah am difficult kid, have behavioral issues, make your life miserable. yeah am terrible person, have inherent personality flaw of no fault but my own. except now do it on purpose, make it true now, put ability to control own truth in own hand. because you all seem want me be that so bad. so now you get it. don’t complain now, you all asked for it really really nicely.

but deep down. at most basic. hidden beneath. really just. want be understood. want be helped. want people to learn my communication.

“many behavior is communication” yes, those kind of behaviors should be respected n valued n listened, but try behavior your way out of correcting n explaining everything just said in post to person who just don’t seem to get it

without rely on good grace of nice people around you who keep on play guess games n give out guesses in words you can nod or shake head to. now, that’s cheating.

people not nice to people who *have no choice* but to *only* rely on behaviors & vocal noises to communicate

n, even if every single person nice. behaviors n vocal noises alone, not enough.

this written with full time experience in mind

[tea-cat-arts]

Sometimes I wonder what Jiang Cheng could've become if his parents didn't instill a mix of "crippling fear of failure" and "impossibly high standards" in him. Cuz like, his dad was holding him to the vague standard of being as good as wwx, his mom yelling at him whenever he goofed around like wwx, and then both of them expressed disappointment when he's less successful than wwx. The thing both of them seem to ignore though is that wwx got where he is entirely because he had the freedom to fuck around and find out- he trained tirelessly because he made training fun for himself, he was innovative as a cultivators because he experimented and persisted through failures, and he was able to act in line with the Jiang clan moto because his actions had less political pull than members of the main family. Jiang Cheng on the other hand- if he fucked around he got told to "stop stooping to the level of servants." If his achievements were lesser than wwx's, he got either dismissed by his dad or yelled at by his mom to try harder. And if he picked fights with the Wens, they'd have an excuse to destroy his clan. Like ya- no shit that'd create an adult who's terrified of failure.

The kite game serves as such a good metaphor/embodiment of this set back- with Jiang Cheng never being able to shoot as far as Wei Wuxian because he pulls back and shoots closer the second he misses.

And its sad too because he's shown to be pretty brilliant when he's in "fuck it, we ball" mode. Like, when he's not freezing up, he manages to pull off things like rebuilding his entire clan from the ground up, leading armies and taking back territories from the Wens, and I'm fairly sure he's the only character we see counter the Lan music cultivation techniques (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on that last one. Also feel free to add any of the other cool shit he did that I'm blanking on at the moment, cuz I know I'm forgetting something).

That being said- even with his anxiety, he's still one of the top cultivators. Imagine what a force of nature he'd be if he could sustain "fuck it we ball" mode

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm gonna be annoying about the immunity syndrome, please bear with me:

1. spock calling out humans

2. bones on his 'inject jim with something before asking' agenda

3. no peril gets in the way of jim being able to tease spock

4. mcspirk arguing about which of them is allowed to risk his life for the ship

5. jim going through it and me also going through it even if I know they'll be ok

6. spock might be risking his life but he's sure as hell gonna be a menace about having been chosen over bones to do it

7. AN-TI-BO-DIES (affectionate)

8. scotty is going through it as well

9. whatever the hell this was

[splat-details]

Ebb & Flow + Muck Warfare

[barbaricjester]

Thinking about an AU where Stanley actually did make it big. He's still living out of his car when some music agent hears him singing to himself or playing guitar or something, and they offer him a chance.

In a matter of weeks, he's got a song made (he goes for a rock/metal genre) and he drops a single. By a stroke of luck, it explodes. Suddenly he's handed a check with more zeros than he's ever seen. He's practically handed a nice apartment and an entire team of people to help him make more music.

Stan throws himself into it. He crafts a whole rocker persona, starts calling himself Knucklehead because it sounds cool. He's half convinced it's all a dream, half sure this is his greatest ruse yet. Soon he's released another single. Then another. Then an album. Then they're asking if he wants to do live shows.

His music plays on radios, on TV. There's posters with his face on them (he keeps his mullet for the scruffy rocker look). He hears people rave that his songs are raw, are real (they are; they're all about past mistakes and fighting for survival and being a disappointment).

One day, Filbrick Pines gets a letter in the mail, from the son he's seen on TV the past few months. It's a check, for exactly one million dollars. "Told you. -Knucklehead" is all the message says.

Stanford, who is still in college, has watched from a distance as his brother rose to stardom. He's proud of him, and one day he gets a letter in the mail, too, which is just Stan gloating for three pages before he asks if they can catch up, admits that he misses his brother. Stanford packs up and goes to him immediately.

Idk where this all goes, but I've been unable to get @pinkchup 's art of Stanley playing guitar out of my head since I first saw it. Just- Stan getting a chance to get on a stage, scream sing his feelings, and prove his dad wrong. Yeah.

(OH and years down the line, when Stan's retired, Dipper and Mabel discover that one of their favorite classic rock/metal singers, Knucklehead, is actually related to them when they find a box of Stan's old merch in his office. O.O)

[rennebright]

KIVOTOS-criminals by L.L.L [Twitter/X] ※Illustration shared with permission from the artist. If you like this artwork please support the artist by visiting the source.