#It's basically a poem.

[hubba1892]

"When you woke up this morning this was not even close to your thought process. […] It actually happened. Seven." - Peter Drury’s full-time commentary as Liverpool beat Manchester United 7-0

[jazzyjesse]

working at a grocery store has only made me even angrier about inflation and how food, water, and shelter isnt free

like just looking at groceries (not water or shelter) i see just a few bags (maybe around 5 or so) of food costing over $125 USD regularly. I've seen orders upwards of $600. and sure those have been bigger orders but no food should cost that much.

my coworkers and i shouldn't be complaining about the price of food when we get employee discounts.

a single bag of food for myself (usually containing some small pizzas, crackers, milk, and cereal) regularly costs between $50-60. minimum wage in my state is 15/HR. thats about four hours of work for one bag of food

a coworker who works on the front end of our store prides herself on being able to catch theives. everyone says how good she is at it. and sometimes it makes sense, sometimes people are just stealing to steal. but how do you ever know?

when the card reader we take outside is broken we are supposed to have the customers come inside to pay for their groceries if they're paying with EBT. there's a woman who's a regular who has a few small children and when she comes to pick up groceries they're usually asleep in the car.

am i supposed to make her choose between leaving her children alone in the car or waking them up and taking them inside?

four hours of work for one bag of groceries. is this not also theft?

four hours of work. let that sink in. four hours for one small bag of groceries.

we aren't supposed to accept tips but if we don't accept tips then how else are we supposed to afford our groceries?

i haven't seen a single person stealing food. you cannot steal whats already stolen.

although im no longer a christian, the teachings of my childhood have stuck with me, and in the bible it says "When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and for the foreigner residing among you."

society has reaped right up the the very edge and beyond of its fields, so it's up to us to reap what we can

four hours of work for one bag of food

[di-42]

My husband finally reads some poems I wrote, inspired by Good Omens.

Husband: this one is basically pornographic.

Me:(after immersing myself in Good Omens fiction for 4 months)*squeals with excitement*: aaawwww, really? I'm so glad it comes across that way, I wasn't sure I'd managed! *big smile*

Husband: ...

[angel-archivist]

I thought my life would be different somehow.

[moistvonlipwig]

- Clare Harner, "Immortality"

[sheiireen]

In times of drought, shed tears of sympathy.

In summers cold, walk in concern and empathy.

Stand aloof of the unknowing masses:

Better dismissed as useless than flattered as a "Great Man".

This is my goal, the person I strive to become.

- The Origin of Deku, the greatest hero.

[ya-boi-alex]

Some WIPs that I'll never finish sadly. If anything, maybe I'll redraw some of them one day. Artstyle changes n all

[littlest-bugz]

I loved you so violently, so viscerally, that you became the flames I burned in, the waters that drowned me.

On Visceral Yearning

credits - credit help always appreciated!! Beau Taplin || Unknown || Franz Kafka || Unknown || Prince Rabbi || Edgar Allen Poe Unknown || Unknown || Unknown || Me || Unknown || Franz Kafka || Unknown

[purpurussy]

still thinking about this post by @vinecrawler and honestly "Summer" by Chen Chen is such a lovely sweet poem and it's so fucking dnp coded too. i mean it's about the experience of growing up queer in the 21st century but this is the dan and phil website so everything is about them specifically <3 someone with more patience than me needs to web weave this shit right now

[thismakesense]

Welcome, angel of freedom, risen upon a dead world!

Ough ough I barely post my art anywhere at this point but the patho brainrot is real so. Have an Eva Yan she's so... Ough

[adobe-outdesign]

Neopets has a lot of interesting ways to do lore reveals but one of the most insane was when they gave us backstory in the form of a poem about two children drowning in a well

[yuri-is-online]

congrats on 500 followers, you deserve it!! ^_^ i adore your writing! for the masquerade event, may i request prompt 11 with trey, jamil and rook? thank you so much!

11. There is a really lovely moon outside tonight that you find yourself admiring, but if you would just turn around you would find someone admiring you.

Annon my lovely annon how does it feel to have such a wonderful beautiful brain, this is perhaps the most perfect line up of characters for this prompt. I'm happy you like my writing and really hope you like this.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, I can't speak French so none of that for Rook, sorry I do not trust google translate. So many references to music in this one... the other event quests can be found on my masterlist.

Trey

If Trey had to pick something about himself he liked he would probably pick his height. It made certain things easier, like walking through crowds and looking at things in the far off distance. It makes these little emotions he has when he sees you easier to deal with, he can always excuse himself and observe from afar. Trey prides himself on being realistic about these sorts of things, prides himself on his restraint and ability to keep things calm.

But it's hard to deny the truth. Painful even. He can feel the ache even before he sees you, his hand even twitches with the desire to reach out and break your reverie. But he can't, you aren't exactly alone, you walked out on to the balcony with Ace and Deuce close at your heels. They're joking with you, distracting you from the moon and stars he thinks you wanted to observe, but you can't seem to bring yourself to be annoyed with them. That's fine, Trey can be annoyed enough for you both. He would never call himself "massive" but he is certainly blessed with a broad set of shoulders.

And an exceptionally creepy (Rook had insisted it was fancy, très magnifique) bird mask that sends the dynamic duo fleeing back to the ballroom "abandoning" you to your fate. He would be tempted to laugh but he does not want to talk to you just yet. You shake your head in amused affection, relaxing onto the railing and letting some of the night's tension roll off your shoulders. He does the same, trying to give you space but not avoiding you when you move closer.

"The moon is beautiful tonight." Trey says after he's let you have your moment, surprised when you turn to him with a flustered look on your face. "That's what you came here to look at, right?" You cough, not helping his certainty but the shy smile that flickers onto your face suggests he has not made a misstep, not exactly anyway.

"It's a nice night." You say. "Stay with me, won't you?" There's emotion to the request he's tempted to read into. Tempted to classify as the same longing he feels and barely swallows when he looks into your eyes.

"I'll stay as long as you like." He says softly, and tries not to smile too much when you lean your head onto his shoulder.

Jamil

He is in love. You look like a ridiculous child and he is in love, Jamil is smiling at every move you make like he is actually happy for once. It's all he can do to pull himself away from his hiding place out to the courtyard you have decided to to stargaze in, as much as he wants to continue admiring you he would rather no one else see him in this horrifying mood.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie~" You are dancing, he thinks, but it looks more like you are jumping trying to catch the moon in your hands, the rest of your silly song devolving into fits of giggles as you twirl, obsessing over the way the fabric of your costume follows you as you twirl. "Jamil!" You notice him the second he joins you, your hands immediately reach out for his. He lets you take him, lets you guide him in a jerky series of movements he knows aren't real dance moves. You're happy, and seeing him has made you happier.

"Just what are you doing?" He's almost laughing himself now, letting you guide him through your made up dance. "Wouldn't you rather be back in the ballroom?" You hum and shake your head.

"It's too busy in there, I wanted to look at the moon." Your dance slows to a gentle sway, Jamil takes advantage of the lull to take control of the flow, guiding you into a more structured dance. The silver light seems to kiss you, as if the moon is happy you came to look at her. Too bad, Jamil doesn't intend to let your attention wander back her way.

"You know, the view of the moon from Scarabia is especially beautiful, perhaps you would like a change of scenery when you're ready to leave." Jamil helps you twirl your costume, doing his best to guide you back towards the ballroom. He might have been spending his time hiding among the furniture of the ballroom, but he had a plan for tonight. One that involved you wrapped around his finger and waltzing well into the hours of the morning, and while he is not exactly picky about where-

He would very much like everyone to see just where you are ending your night.

Rook

The music in the ballroom drowns the tiny hymn that comes from the balcony. Even if anyone else had been looking for it, they would have found it impossible to hear, but Rook is no casual observer. To the casual observer, Rook is merely standing near the windows and their curtains, the Prefect's strange tune barely recognizable even there.

But then recognizable is not the right word. Rook highly doubts anyone in this world other than him had heard this song.

Initially you had walked onto this balcony because Grim had mentioned seeing a piano there earlier and that had struck you as odd. Why stick a piano out on a balcony if there was going to be a ball with live music inside the actual ballroom why stick an instrument out in the cold? You had thought it would look lonely, but the moon has decided to make it look romantic. Seeing no one around you settle yourself at the keys. And begin to try and play along with the tune in your head.

Rook holds himself back from going to you, telling himself to wait until you look his way, but you don't. You are content to sit and pluck at the piano, seeking the keys that match the memory of another world, another moon. He waits and waits, but still you only idly glance up at the night sky, and never his direction.

"What sweet torture," he murmurs into his mask "to be so ignored by such a perfect sight." As the music finds a stride you still hum, to his great relief. The pitch and quality of the melody matters little when observing someone's most private reflections. What matters is the far away look in their eye, the pride with which they rest their finished fingers on the keys and think aloud some words unlikely to be theirs but fitting all the same.

"Their song interweaves melancholy with moonlight, quiet moonlight so sad and lovely that it makes birds dream in their trees, while fountains sob in ecstasy..."* Your eyes finally turn his way and you startle. He pries his mask free from his face to reassure you of your safety; to you, it is like he has appeared from thin air, but you know him well enough that your surprised smile is more a courtesy than genuine surprise.

"Just how long have you been here Rook?" Your fingers twitch with embarrassment at the keys.

"I was lured here the moment you began to sing my lovely trickster." He bows, mask placed over his heart in genuine devotion. "Truly the power the your soul's voice has to command my steps is frightening." You sigh, embarrassment twinged with joy as you move yourself to make room for him by your side.

"Well then why don't you sit next to me and listen to just how badly I can butcher this piece." He very much doubts you could do such a thing, but who is he to deny your every request?

"My Trickster, I would love nothing more save you."

*Clair de Lune, Paul Verlaine 1869, translated by John Argo 2017. As a note to the interested reader, the linked song is named after the poem. I'm rather fond of it as I once owned a music box that played it.

[etherealspacejelly]

one thing about me is that i love answering questions. you could ask me the most ridiculous hypothetical known to man and i will consider it with scientific curiosity and sincerity

[krash-8]

something something i am terribly sad for my age and i think it might be a little in my head, or uncalled for, or my hand on my friends pantry doorknob as she tells me i can eat whatever i want because we’re at her house now (which warms me inside more than i want to tell her, and that fact is starting to burn) or cookie dough i made for the first time in the middle of the night because it’s easy and people like it and it’s a way to say i love you without actually telling. im glad i know my way around a kitchen but im not too sure when i learned. i’m pretty good so long as i don’t leave the stove on; i’m forgetful when it matters but i remember when it counts. i’m not too sure when i learned.

i want to cook for you, and i want you to like it, and i want my head to stay calm when i think of my body and how I could be spending this time to fix my grades and I need to do better at a lot, and most of all i want to cook for you and i want you to like it and i want so hard to believe my kitchen is any kitchen where i open the pantry and feel like that’s fine. i want to feel like that's fine.

don’t you wish milk was cheaper, and eggs, and the water bill and the price of gas so we can leave? don’t you wish it was easier for a kid who isn’t quite right to get a job around here? don’t you wish the job could pay for any of that at all, or at least be something worth my time? i think I'd like to be somewhere near you for at least forever. I wish I was always sure you loved me back and I was able to manage to drop eggs one way or another without the end of the world. i can make myself useful and bring you something I worked on to prove i love you, and I promise I'm trying, I'm not sure for what, but I know I really really want to stick around so please please let me, and do you still mean the thing you said about me being able to eat from your pantry? when do you want me home? I love you, so I can make us something nice.

[hypnospilot]

So there's this tiktok post from a Christian who is genuinely asking what atheist funerals are like since all the comfort and discussion cannot center on the afterlife. Like, there is no concept of where the person is now, or seeing the person in the future like at theist funerals.

And this response just describes it so perfectly that I am stunned and wondered and compelled to share with everyone I know and everyone I don't.

[katerinaaqu]

By the way...I am sorry to ruin it a bit for "shippers" of the homeric poems who use the term κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ (dear to my heart) as a sign of two characters being romantically involved I might need to warn you that is not necessarily so!

And to make it a bit more interesting and traumatizing for those who do not see it as platonic as well gotta tell you that Agamemnon calls Diomedes that in rhapsody 10 when Diomedes needs to choose whom he shall take with him to the spy mission in the Trojan camp!

Then the king of men Agamemnon spoke again to them:

"Son of Tydeus Diomedes, dear to my heart, choose your partner out of those who volunteer"

(Translation by me)

So yeah...food for thought! 🤣🤣🤣🤣