#LIKE WHAT IS THE LUCK

[madame-mongoose]

I need everyone to meet the kitten im adopting, Augustus. Out of sheer luck I checked the rescue group I was in today and found this little bundle of joy!! His mama sent me pics and a video of him. He's not ready to join me at home yet, he's still too little, but I'll be getting him next month!! I'm so so excited to have him with me 😁

[zytes]

this manatee looks like it’s in a skyrim loading screen

[mfshipbracket]

[andstuffsketches]

finally watched Reign of the Supermen

[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.

[foolsocracy]

he should've been at the club

[dandyshucks]

being in love with a fictional character will make u produce art u didnt know u were capable of

~

[if ur part of the "fiction doesnt affect reality" crowd: please fuck off lol]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 341

Danny sighs as the sound of a falling shelf reaches him, quickly followed by twin snarls. He takes a breath, even if he hasn’t needed to breathe since he was fourteen, and counts to ten as he pauses in making dinner. 

“Ellie, Dan, what’ve I said about throwing each other into the shelves-” 

He stops as he comes to the living room doorway, both of the gremlins freezing mid-stuffing an unconscious vigilante out the window, feathers puffed up. Dear Ancients he does not want to deal with this today, but it’s not like life ever cared about what he wants in any situation. 

“Elnath, Jordan, you better not be about to toss that person out the window-” 

[starcurtain]

Even leaving aside the obvious ship bait here, this is one of the best examples of character comedy Hoyo has posted in a long time.

The fact that Jade sends Aventurine a bunch of rocks just knowing that his incredible luck will allow him to suss out, without even cutting the stones, exactly which ones are worth processing is funny as hell.

The fact that Aventurine is actually able to answer and picks out the rocks that contain high value jade without hesitation is absolutely hilarious.

Bro is out here using his blessing from a goddess to play blind-box prize games. This is like finding out X-Men's Professor X uses his telepathy to order pizza.

Do you think people ever call Aventurine like "Hey man, is my new relationship going to work out?"

And Aventurine's just over here as the divination champion of Pier Point going "Signs point to no, friend. The vibes are just rancid. Abandon ship ASAP."

And then he trips over his catcake and eats shit because he didn't see it coming.

[karalovesallthegirls]

Also have another “first words spoken to you are on your skin” soulmate AU idea where Kara is a journalist assigned to shadow the controversial CEO of L-Corp for the day. It’s a big deal for her to get this assignment, so of course she trips the second she’s near the other woman and tries awkwardly to redeem herself.

The CEO stares at her almost in shock, and then says nothing. At all. Ever, for the entire day.

Kara spends hours following Lena Luthor around trying to fill the silence, but no amount of questions get her to talk. Lena almost seems to be running away at some points - like she’s trying to lose her? - and the few times she’s managed to catch her actually talking to someone she goes silent the second she sees Kara.

She asks around if Miss Luthor is usually like this and everyone looks at her like she’s crazy. Apparently she’s the only one who gets the silent treatment. By the end of her first day shadowing she’s walking away with half a page of observations and not a single quote. Miss Grant is going to kill her.

But that’s okay. It’s fine, this isn’t over. She has four days of shadowing ahead of her and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t finish this with a quote from the woman herself. It’s only a matter of time.

[the-apocalypse-is-upon-us]

are you guys seeing this shit

[claraoswalds]

#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition

[hyakunana]

I hate the sewers . jpg

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

...Turns out gay sex actually was the solution.

(This is basically a redraw, come read the real deal over at Tiger Tiger)

[spitblaze]

If you’re gonna care about prison abolition and justice you are necessarily going to have to care about the people who DID do those crimes and just want to reintegrate and live a normal life without hurting anyone. You're gonna have to be cool with the fact that the guy scanning your groceries might’ve raped someone. You're gonna have to relax about the possibility that your bank teller used to be a career criminal. The person sitting next to you on the bus might’ve committed three different murders, and as long as he's not about to commit a fourth right now, that's not your fuckin' problem. People don't disappear from society after they commit crimes, and most of them really just want to live a normal, stable life instead of going back to that. And the best way to make sure they don't relapse is to ensure they're able to live that peaceful life instead of freaking out because the guy next door used to run a dogfighting ring. You don’t have to be friends with them, you don't even have to like them, but you're gonna need to be okay with them existing in society. Sorry.

[wigglebox]

Destiel Pride - Day 5; Cursed or not