#This is a rant I’m sorry

[portrait-of-a-moron]

Kk I’m venting to hell about this probably so I’ll do it under a break I can feel the paragraph already jfc

Comparing yourself in art is so weird, and staring at your own art and the things you’ve created and just tearing yourself apart over it feels like I’m never actually making anything good. Like even if I’m proud of a piece, after a few days, even after a few hours sometimes, I see things that could be better, or things I messed up that seem so obvious, and I end up fucking hating it.

I’m not an artist. I don’t devote all my time and skill into drawing, I write. I’m supposed to be a writer. But I’ve been drawing more, and creating more than just words, and sometimes I wish I never picked it back up In January. I wish I just kept it in the back of my mind as some silly little thing I could barely do.

I shouldn’t uphold myself to this standard, but I do. I’ve noticed it more lately, I’ve been fucking picking and tearing everything I make apart like I need to dissect it and hate myself for every little thing that’s wrong. I miss being proud of my art. I miss doing something and feeling so happy that it looked right the first time I drew it. But it’s just like, impossible anymore. I don’t really have an art style. I can’t fucking shade or render or whatever the hell it’s called, I don’t know a lot about art stuff because I’m not an artist. I’m not and I never have been. I don’t know why I think I can be one. It’s been working against me for so long too. I can’t see half the colours I need to to be able to create anything good, and that’s why I rely on words, not images, to be able to make things. I don’t need to know how to pick up an art pen to write, or to be able to see half of the colours in the world to make a story.

I’m!!!! So just? Disappointed in myself. Because I don’t know why I can’t feel proud anymore. I can’t call myself bad, because I know I’m not, but I hesitate to call myself good. It’s subjective, I know that, but I wish there was a line I could understand, a line I could force myself to see and give myself a definitive answer on if I even deserve it or not.

[princesskkfish]

A rant~

(be prepared for nonsense all over the place so sry)

Being a artist is really hard sometimes! (It’s hard just being a human too but I’d have a essay if I got into that, so staying to the artist side of things) anyways, it’s hard! Like yeah it’s a lot of peoples outlet and making art is super fun. And I’m not usually one to complain (for a number of reasons but whatever) but I want everyone to know their not alone and it really is hard sometimes

Being a artist has its ups and downs: art block, lack of motivation, lack of ideas, or being really inspired, or having tons of ideas and just goofing around. But the downside er hard part at least for me and others I know is the comparing and feeling of not good enough. Either not good enough in your art, feeling it not perfect enough, having to high of expectations and feeling terrible when it didn’t turn out the way you wanted. We all know this feeling in one way or another and I’ll be straight up it sucks, it really does

and this ruins it for some people and I hate that, the fact you can create something is amazing! No matter how good or bad you think you are. Everyone has the right to be creative and make the things they feel inspired to do! And no matter how far along you are in your art journey comparing can potentially crush that

and don’t get me wrong comparing isn’t inherently bad. Like you can compare your art to learn from it or see how someone else does this certain thing and how you can improve your art. What I’m trying to say is, don’t belittle yourself or your art because your going great and you are unique and no one else can make that art like you can! And it’s not fair to yourself to compare your artwork to another persons. That person might have years of practice or draws hours a day to improve.

And going right along with that last bit EVERYONE is always improving and at one point or another the person your comparing yourself too felt the same way you do. So be nice to yourself! Your doing great! And you shouldn’t make art just so you can “beat” or be “better” then this other person. Make art because you want too and because it makes you happy >:0

And that’s the end of my rant I would go on but my brain is fried and I still have homework to finish o7

[anxiouslittlecarrot]

I want everybody who’s calling Ken a Trophy Husband to know that he’s actually a Trophy Boyfriend, because when Ruth Handler invented Ken in the 1960s, she was adamant that he would never marry her and instead be her “handsome steady”, so that Barbie remained a figure of independence for the little girls and was never put in the position of housewife.

Her house is hers. She bought it and furnished it with money she made in her own job. In STEM, in politics, in healthcare, in fashion, in academy, in customer service. Her credit card is in her name (women in the US couldn’t have their own regardless of marital status until 1974). And it’s all pink and fashionable because femininity and badassness aren’t mutually exclusive. No matter who you are, you can be anything.

That’s why Barbie’s slogan is “you can be anything”. Teaching these ideals to little girls is why Barbie was created. Empowering women and empowering femininity is the original meaning of the Barbie doll. It’s not that you have to be all this to be a woman, but if you are all or some of this, you too are awesome.

And somehow pop culture deliberately changed that narrative. Sexualised, bimbofied, and villainised her, when she actually isn’t responsible for the impossible beauty standards — people are, she’s just a stylised, not-to-scale toy like most others.

Men are frothing because he’s just Ken and I guess they were expecting her to be just Barbie, but that’s exactly what Ken is. Canonically. A badass woman’s himbo boyfriend.

This movie has the potential to radically change the way we collectively see Barbie into what Ruth Handler originally intended, I’m so very excited

[leandrocrossard]

something really cool happened today that i wanted to share:

my nephew is 9 years old, and a stereotypical little boy. he likes dinosaurs, minecraft, and ninjas.

today i walked in on him excitedly watching Nimona with my dad. (minor spoiler warning!)

i had never heard of it, but i sat down and watched some of it, just to see why he was so happy.

he started narrating it, anticipating parts of it, almost as if he’d seen it before. he had.

we didn’t get to finish it, but i watched it on my own, because it looked fun and i wanted to see how it ended.

and i loved it. it was a fun, exciting, fantastical adventure about the importance of acceptance people who are different to us.

and it had a very clear queer subplot.

one that my nephew hadn’t mentioned at all in his explanation of the film. his summary was “it’s about a monster who helps a knight that was framed for killing the queen”.

and honestly yeah, that is what the film was about.

before sharing it with us, he had watched it all, engrossed himself in the story, took it in entirely, and the part he cared about most was whether Nimona got her acceptance. he wasn’t indoctrinated, or confused, or questioning anything about himself.

he didn’t bat an eyelid over a gay love confession. he just enjoyed the film, raved about it, made my 60 year old dad watch the movie about the monster who didn’t fit in.

he’s still the same little boy who’s been asking us how to get a girlfriend.

the only thing a movie centred around queer and queer-coded characters taught my nephew was that those who are different to him are not monsters. that’s it.

and that dragons are really cool.

[pastabaguette]

look guys i don’t like to argue but i hate it when people portray equius and nepeta like this:

i mean, they’re both just thirteen, come on.

equius is not her parental figure, and nepeta isn’t a fussy baby that can’t eat her fruits and veggies! equius isn’t some malicious evil guy, he’s just a stupid little teenager. that goes for eridan too (and i guess like, all of the trolls, but especially those two). nepeta’s not some innocent little baby. she’s the same age as all her friends. she kills huge wild beasts on the regular for consumption.

a lot of dubs i’ve seen, too, make nepeta sound like a toddler, and equius like a whole grown adult man, and i don’t really like it because neither of them are those things. (granted, i don’t watch too many dubs, so maybe i am wrong on this)

[unlicensedprivateinvestigator]

thinking about gorgug thistlespring, a barbarian half-orc raised by tinkerer gnomes, who tried to teach him that his anger was not a bad thing, that he was not a burden, that he should channel those negative emotions into something good and positive, like singing or making things, and so he did. he made friends, he learned the drums, he fought, he protected, he saved the world and met multiple who liked him for who he is.

thinking about gorgug thistlespring, a teenage boy with his first girlfriend, who was so devoted to protecting his friends that he made a mistake, he didn’t consider her feelings, so he fought so hard to make it right, he felt so guilty and so angry at himself so he built something just to be able to talk to her again. his parents taught him to channel his emotions and he realised he was just as good at creating as he was at raging. and even when the nightmare king’s forest threw his fears and insecurities in his face, he carried on, for his friends, because “its gorgug, keep going.”

thinking about gorgug thistlespring, an artificer-barbarian who figured out who he is, what he wanted, what he’s good at, who knows how to channel his anger into protecting and creating, to save the world and his friends, only to be told that he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t do what he wanted, his anger was for destruction, not for creating, not for putting his life on the line for his friends, that all the things his parents had taught him, all the things that he had learned while saving the world were wrong.

thinking about gorgug thistlespring.

[cowgyaru]

wolverine sevika you are so special to me ….

[go-star-sailor]

transfem wirt truthers wya

[planariaareneat]

How The Nocturnal Bottleneck and Nipples Make Us Human

Almost every post here considers what humans do have, really. It’s a little tiring; realistically every world has its harsh environments and vicious species and a sophont to match. We probably wouldn’t be unique for our adaptability or our persistence or even adrenaline

But our evolution is fucked up as hell, to put it lightly.

Mammals went through what’s been dubbed the nocturnal bottleneck essentially since the start of the mesozoic right up until the Cretaceous ended the archosaur’s exclusive hold over the daylight. We lost a lot of things from every mammal spending most of its time in either a cramped, suffocating burrow or scrounging around in the faint hours of nighttime. Our blood cells lost their nuclei to hold more oxygen while we spent time deep underground, we lost protections against ultraviolet rays in our skin and eyes, we can’t even repair our own DNA using the light of the sun. Most aliens probably wouldn’t have such traits unless their evolution followed a very similar path to ours. They’d be able to see ultraviolet and wouldn’t have to worry about sunburn and all the wonderful privileges essentially all fish, birds, amphibians, and reptiles enjoy as we speak. 

There’s also what we gained from spending so much time in the dark.

Brown fat is only found in mammals, it’s a special type of fat which bear cells with several oil droplets and are utterly jammed with mitochondria. This lets it make heat, a lot of it, fast. We don’t even need to shiver to induce this heat generation from brown adipose tissue - factor in our downright hyperactive mitochondria, and we can warm up quickly. Sure, it doesn’t have too much use in adult humans, but it keeps our infants warm and still provides a little boost the whole run we have in this universe.

Unless aliens also went through a time where their small ancestors had to face cold nights, they’d have to produce heat the old fashioned way when chilled. Aliens might have to shiver the whole time they’re in a cold room while the human watches in confusion, quite literally unshaken, and wonders if the room is a lot colder than the thermostat set to 60 says. The aliens stare at their companion in confusion, it’s just a normal temperature to shiver at after all, how is the human sitting so still?

Our small ancestors spending all their time out foraging at night is also why we have such a good sense of touch, smell, and hearing. They were more important senses than vision (we’re lucky to have even redeveloped basic color vision, frankly) at the time and place and simply ended up continuing to serve us well. Birds and reptiles rarely have acute senses of smell and the latter especially are lucky to have acute hearing, and birds rarely have impeccable hearing themselves either. Our skin is free of scales and honed to sensitivity, and our external ears and complicated ear bones provide an immense range of hearing (from 20 all the way to 17,000 hertz!).

Aliens might not be able to pin down the chirp of a cricket or the light click of a lock being picked. The human might be the only one on board a ship that can pick out the finer sounds of the engine’s constant thrum and know the critical difference between when everything is fine and when something is wrong. The human could probably pick out the sounds of an approaching enemy’s careless footsteps - they’re only as light enough for *them* to stop hearing them, after all - and be the one to see the horrified expression (well, more on that later) on their face when we get the drop on them in spite of their perceived stealth. 

But perhaps the most versatile, convoluted, amazing, and utterly unique trait we have is right on your face this instant. Lips.

Lips in most animals are a simple seal to hold in the mouth’s moisture and protect the teeth, even if they’re supple they’re NEVER muscular except in mammals, and we have only one thing to thank for it; milk and nipples. Lips evolved exclusively to allow babies to suckle, it required a vacuum to be created in the mouth, and with no other animal having anything like a nipple it never happened in other animals. Many animals make milk, to be frank, but no other animal has nipples.

Your cheeks and lips are a marvel among tetrapods, no other animal can suck like mammals can. Aliens wouldn’t have straws or even be able to sip from the edge of a glass, they’d have to have a proboscis or simply tilt the whole thing back. Aliens likely won’t have woodwind instruments or balloons you can blow into. We take so much about our lips for granted. Hell, our muscular faces are vital for expressions, we’re probably absolute facial contortionists among a cast of creatures with mandibles and beaks and expressionless scaly maws. Aliens might find us ridiculously easy to read, if anything, compared to their own kind (all the better to deceive them) - or perhaps they’d find us hard to decipher anyways, with our lack of color-changing skin or erectable crests of bright feathers. Baring teeth might not be seen as a sign of aggression in most of the universe, smiling would be all too distinctly human. 

Perhaps with how infectious we are sometimes, that’s what we’d contribute to the universe; others might have to make do with opening their mouths just enough to show their teeth or splaying their innumerable mouthparts with just the right curve, but perhaps we’d teach the galaxy to smile, one ally at a time. 

Wouldn’t that be amazing?

[imfinereallyy]

Steve and Eddie don’t get together for awhile—in fact it takes them longer than most people expect. It’s not filled with miscommunication and longing though. Instead it’s a slow build to falling in love.

Steve and Eddie do grow close after the spring break from hell. In fact, they would come to consider each other best friends (second only to Robin, as under the friendship agreement she made Eddie sign). But they fall into an easy sort of friendship, finding more things in common than just the kids eventually. They share a love of weird, eclectic movies, cars, weird food recipes, and even books. They teach each other about the stuff neither one would ever dream to be interested in.

Eddie learns about sports intensely. To the point, he joins a softball league with Steve and Robin (she is only team manager, there to look at the pretty girls who signed up).

Steve learns all about music. To the point he wants to learn an instrument. He wants to learn guitar at first, wanting to share Eddie’s love for it but finds it’s not for him. Instead, he takes up the drums, much to Robins's reluctance.

It’s simple between them, despite their history (both upside down and non-upside down alike). It’s not something Steve has with anyone else, seeing as most of his friendships involve a complexity that he can’t even understand himself.

It goes on for years, supporting each other through nightmares, heartbreak, grief (Eddie), and a sexuality crisis (Steve). They get tattoos together, take odd classes at the rec center together, and eventually share an apartment together with Robin in Chicago.

Robin tries to convince Steve for years there is something between him and Eddie. But Steve denies it, and he really means it.

Eventually life changes, their friendship stays strong but things are bound to take new shape.

Steve moves out to live with his boyfriend of a year. Eddie helps him, even cooks dinner for the two of them in their new apartment. They’re all friends, they hangout all the time.

Months pass, things seem okay, fine. Then, a year and change passea. Things are a little sour. Steve and Eddie’s friendship stays strong, but Steve seems to have problems with his boyfriend. Eddie listens because he cares; he loves Steve, and Steve loves him. They’re best friends; they would do anything for each other.

Including telling your best friend that maybe this guy isn’t good for him.

Steve doesn’t react poorly, just small. He shrinks in on himself. Like he knows Eddie’s right but doesn’t want to agree. Instead, Steve smiles sadly and moves on.

But Eddie doesn’t hear from Steve for a month.

It drives him insane; they haven’t gone that long without talking since Eddie was in a temporary coma. He’s worried he might have cost himself a best friend. Robin had moved in with her girlfriend a month before his talk with Steve, so Eddie was left to his own devices in his new one-bedroom apartment. Spiraling about Steve.

Robin said he was fine, and Eddie should believe her but he can’t help but worry.

He almost cracked and went to Steve’s apartment, keys in his hands ready to storm the castle.

Except….

When Eddie throws his apartment door open, there’s Steve, hand raised, ready to knock.

He looks exhausted, with two bags under his eyes and one bag in his hand.

“Hi.” Is all he managed to croak out before falling into Eddie’s arms, which had been open and ready for the sweet boy.

After the crying had calmed down and they had moved to the couch, Steve explained everything.

How Eddie had been right, Steve and his boyfriend weren’t good for each other. How he had been isolated from everyone except Eddie and Robin. How the last month, the fighting had only escalated. How things had slipped from just arguments to unforgivable words and actions.

How Steve was worried that everyone would choose his boyfriend instead of him.

Eddie rushed to ease his worries and offered to beat the guy up. It made Steve laugh.

Steve tells him he doesn’t have anywhere to go, but he’ll get out of his hair. Maybe go to Robin’s.

Eddie insisted Steve stayed and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

That’s when things start to slowly change.

Steve promises to look for a new place right away, Eddie says it’s no rush.

The first night, Steve tries to sleep on the couch, but Eddie pushes him to the bedroom, insisting they can share. It’s not like they haven’t before; it’s nothing new.

Except it is.

Suddenly, the days pass, and Eddie can’t fall asleep unless Steve is beside him. And Steve can’t stay asleep if Eddie isn’t there.

It starts off on respectful sides, but pushes into tangled limbs in the middle of the night, to finally just snuggling into each other's arms even before they fall asleep.

Everything else is the same….yet somehow different.

It’s like every little thing they do together brings a new kind of joy. Even boring things like doing the dishes or laundry seem so much better with Steve around.

They start to know each other’s habits, even more so than before, with how little space there is now in the apartment. Steve knows the exact place where Eddie always forgets his keys and the way he stretches his spine when he’s tired versus the way he does when he’s bored.

They fall into a lovely pattern of warmth and a type of love they can’t quite place.

They both don’t talk about it, but Steve ponders on it often. Why it feels so different now? After all these years? It hits him one day that it isn’t because he loves Eddie any less or more than he did a few years ago. No, it’s because they both have grown, and changed from who they used to be.

And so has the love between them.

Steve and Eddie, at 19 and 20, could never have the love they have now for each other, for the type of people they were then. Their love was platonic, wholesome, and what they needed then. Steve could not love the kind of man Eddie was then, and vice versa.

Now though, grown and changed but somehow still the same, their love was something new and bright.

Steve only smiled at the realization, not in any rush to move forward. Just enjoying his time with his Eddie.

Eventually, though, Steve stops looking for a new place, and Eddie never asks him to leave. Everyone refers to the apartment as theirs and not just Eddie’s. Robin stops making sly comments and instead smiles happily, almost fondly, at them when they gravitate toward each other. Eddie asks for Steve’s advice on how to deal with the landlord. Steve opens the mail regardless of whose name is on the front. Months pass, and suddenly, Steve is turning 28, and Eddie has a cupcake with a singular candle on it.

“Make a wish, sweetheart.” Eddie says, the soft glow of the flame lighting up his face.

Steve smiles softly at him and leans in. It’s not a risk, in the end, to kiss Eddie. It should be nerve-wracking and scary to change their friendship. But it’s not—it’s easy.

Their lips are soft as they lightly kiss. Steve whispers against Eddie’s mouth, “Don’t want a wish. I have everything I need.”

Eddie huffs a laugh across Steve’s lips. He says nothing—he doesn’t need to. Instead, Eddie leans in again, capturing Steve’s mouth once more.

[lupusbaby]

Sorry to rant again but my mom keeps going on about how the meds I have to be on to be able to walk are “so addictive” and I “really need to be careful with that stuff” and can we please stop making people feel guilty for taking medications?

Before I got my diagnosis it was, “well if it is autoimmune, you can’t take the meds because they give you cancer”. Guess what?? My diagnosis ended up meaning that if I DON’T take those medications I will live in excruciating pain and die early.

Do you think I really like taking all these meds? The ones that increase my risk of developing all kinds of harmful secondary conditions? The ones that make it so I could potentially die from a usually harmless infection because I’m immunocompromised?

It’s between being “addicted” to Gabapentin or being able to walk, Mom.

[kiwinatorwaffles]

i pity people who say “yeah it’s nice to see these two characters as friends but their relationship becomes so much more meaningful if you see them as romantic.” how has the dredges of the amanormative world poisoned you this bad? have you never had a friend or wanted a friend who changed your life for the better? or if you do i feel bad for them because of so obviously little you value them

[princesskkfish]

Schools gonna be the end of me man-

But literally I’ve had no time to make a actual video for my YT or a actual drawing all of what I’ve been doing are doodles or sketches

Plus finals are like this week and next week so that’s gonna be funn-

good luck to all the other people out there also being hunted by school<3 I sent me best of luck!

bonus under the cut

[nanstar200]

Hi gueys 🧍 (run away again)

[xx-sketchy-xx]

*grumble grumble* my photos are being annoying

LOOK AT THE COOL DUDES, I feel like Jax would try and make Wally commit as many crimes as possible with his eye eating powers

[theises]

Just as a reminder to those hyped about side order, this is Nintendo’s official opinion of Agent 4 from the Splatoon website:

Look at her face. Does she look like a pushover? Someone who is just a little wacky? No. This is a teenager who fought an entire Empire. And *won*. People I know keep saying she’s not as impressive as Three or Eight and like?? Just because she did the same thing as Three makes it no less impressive you ding dongs. In fact, she did it with less help than Three had, AND kicked Octavio to the curb WHILE HE HAD CALLIE ON HIS SIDE. She’s practically a force of nature. And it’s not like the Splatoon devs to forget something like this.

No matter what your hopes for side order are, don’t expect Four to be some damsel in distress or anything similar. Remember what the contents of the Splatoon 2 campaign were. Remember that Four is not a member of the New Squidbeak Splatoon because “someone has to be Agent 4!!!” Because I can almost guarantee the devs haven’t forgotten. I say with complete confidence that their definition of Four being “pushover” is a red herring. She’s going to kick our ass on February 22nd.

Get ready.