#(it just wasn't did)

[herd-reject-arts]

So I'm leaving work and something darts in front of me, maybe 10ft away, too fast for me to see what it is. Peek around the tree blocking my path and I see this

Just like... a whole ass hawk. Dude's gotta be about 1.5ft tall. Massive fucking bird. And it's just staring me straight in my soul like this, even as I try to move ahead. It didn't budge. And there's only this path back to my car unless I want to walk on a busy highway. So I have the option of Death By Raptor or Death By Truck.

So I walk in the poison ivy filled patch off the sidewalk. Guy still isn't moving. Still staring me directly in the eyes. And I do this thing when animals are behaving strangely where I'll talk to them, so I'm just like, "Hey, man. I don't know you. You don't know me. This feels really threatening. I'm just trying to get to my car, dude. Can I get some space please? You're a big fucking bird. I see those claws. You could kill me right now, but I'd appreciate if you didn't, ok?"

It didn't move until I was about 2ft away. Again: I'm as far from it as I can be without walking into the street. It clearly wasn't going to budge. I walk past, thing flies up (silent, btw. Scary) and lands on a brick wall a little further ahead

Anyway. Weird guy. Nearly shit my pants when I noticed a bird big enough to carry off a fully grown cat was just... there, staring me in the face, unwilling to move away from me, a human, something it should see as a threat. I watched behind me the whole rest of the way to my car, just in case this bird decided to help me shed this mortal coil. 10/10 experience. Super cool guy.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[notbrucewayne48]

"aphobia doesn't exist"

bitch literally not that long ago an aroace youtuber animator was insulted by almost half of its community for being it

[golyadkin]

in every universe...

[wearenotjustnumbers2]

If you watch the interview, you'll know that the girl here and another one sat in their tank and shelled kibbutz for 17 hours straight, and yet they're being hailed as heroes.

From the beginning, we knew Israeli forces were firing at their own people. We knew that Hamas doesn't have the weaponry to result the destruction we've seen. But since nobody believed, now the truth keeps unfolding about Oct 7.

Watch the interview with Yasmin Porat who was at one of the kibbutz's. She said Hamas treated them humanely, she said they were scared but they [hamas] didn't abuse them. The interviewer was taken aback. The interviewer asks if "terrorists" killed all the bodies lying in the ground but she said: "NO, it was UNDOUBTEDLY our forces." Her exact words. Google her name and listen to the interview.

[emil1863]

Adding onto the Cora lives and Law still gets tattoos train

[inkskinned]

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.

[stil-lindigo]

scorched earth.

a comic about a princess who died in a fire.

(this is a sequel to bite of winter, a comic about Snow and what became of her after her death.)

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creative notes:

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all my other comics

store

[sysig]

Permission to headbutt: Granted (Patreon)

[egophiliac]

so excited for Kalim to save the day by swiper-no-swiping this dip. you can do it! I believe in you!

god I hope this reads properly

[suiheisen]

you think YOU had a bad day at work?

bonus: sid shrieking "no!!!! NO!!!!!" loud enough to be heard in the stands and on camera

[nebuladreamz]

IT'S FINALLY FUCKING OUT AND I CAN FINALLY POST THIS!!!! (Go watch it NOW)

Thank you so much to @ohno-the-sun for hosting the map, this was the most fun first experience I've had with being a part of one :D

[magnetic-rose]

at the end of episode 3 when joel and ellie are getting their supplies from bill and frank’s house, they find a box labeled “woman’s shirts.”

tess is the only woman they’re friends with, which means this box was for her. so whenever they’d go to the clothing boutique, they’d find something for her and set it aside for when she visited next time.

i just - they loved tess. they cared about her. they thought about her even when she wasn’t around. they’d go to their little boutique and pick out clothes for her that she could take back home to the qz. “paying attention to things is how we show love.” “i leave you all of my weapons and equipment, use them to keep tess safe.”

and bill talked a bit more about tess in his letter but we don’t get to fully see it:

“... and she decide you’re...”

also bill’s telling joel some wine pairing for food that he can share with tess, probably because one of bill’s love languages is cooking and he thinks joel should wine and dine her. how cute is that.

[allthegothihopgirls]

one of the rumours the batkids looooove to spread when they join bruce going interstate or abroad for business, is that he's the biological father of all the kids.

this means bruce, talking to potential investors, or eating out with business partners, is frequently subject to the "your kids... there's a lot of them.... all yours.... how????"

sometimes the kids like to add depth to the lie, mentioning they all have different mothers, or that bruce engineered them all as lab babies.

the worst part is how many people blindly believe it. playboy billionare bruce wayne? sure he's swung a few women in his life, maybe he's just not overly careful??? or, with all that money, and no desire to wed, it makes sense that he'd seek alternative routes to have children.

[prahacat]

when the horrors catch up and you take an evening off to batch-process

[rythyme]

is anyone gonna tell f1 tumblr that the first ever live action omegaverse show is a sports drama about gay racecar drivers. because that feels like something they'd want to know.