#and they just. haven't been there

[alarming-prism]

in the chaos of the apartment fire and moving back to college a few of my boxes accidentally got left with family and one of those was full of my fengqing stuff and i finally got it back <3 instant serotonin

[sheepydraws]

The secret Dungeon Meshi sauce that's getting people to eat better is that it's so non-judgmental. Senshi and the rest of the gang never talk about what not to eat besides things that taste bad and literal poison. They don't even talk about "health" that much besides the importance of a balanced diet. It's so much easier to eat well when you think of food simply as something your body needs, and that it's often worth the extra effort to make it taste good, especially when you understand how to connect "things your body needs" with "things that taste good"

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

[pinkm4ns]

[choodraws]

🌱✂️ (crop from this month's patreon piece)

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[titenoute]

They are both intensely relieved but they don't understand why.

I just wondered how the present disaster twins would handle the recent emotional ordeal of the last update.

[spidey-thwiped]

Examples of jokes I think Danny would make daily, but I haven't managed to write them into any of my fics yet:

Sam: Could you pass the remote?

Danny: You can pry it from my cold, dead hands.

Danny hands it over with no fuss.

-

Tucker: Hey, pass the ketchup

Danny: Over my dead body!

Danny arcs the ketchup over his head as he passes it to Tucker.

-

Jazz, calling through the house: Danny?! Where are you??

Danny on his bed: ON MY DEATH BED

-

Danny walking into any room, anywhere, at any given moment: this place is haunted

The joke is that it’s him. He's the ghost haunting it. Sam and Tucker hate this one because of how often he says it.

-

Goes ghost before he uses the phrases "You killed me" or "I'm dead" when something is funny.

-

Jazz whacks him over the head. (deserved)

Danny goes ghost the second her hand makes contact: MURDERER

-

Jazz: could you help me with-

Danny: I can't. I'm dead.

-

The classic "I guess I'll die" gag.

Tucker: You should probably go deal with that ghost, huh?

Danny: I guess I'll die

Goes ghost and flies off.

-

Dash: How about you eat shit and die

Danny: Well, I've already done one of those things.

Dash: D:

-

Sam, could be talking about literally anything: I would rather die

Danny: Same.

Sam: -_-

-

Sam: Danny, what did you do?!

Danny, who messed up: .....Deadmen tell no tales.

-

Danny, anytime anyone accidentally wakes him up: you're being loud enough to awaken the dead.

-

Danny: Paulina looks so pretty today

Sam: Seriously? You still have a crush on her? You know she'll never like you back.

Danny: you're being necrophobic

[zaahvi]

GLORY TO THE RISEN GODS

[artkaninchenbau]

I need Hancock to join Cross Guild so bad

[canisalbus]

What if I drew Machete and Vasco as dragons? What then? What if I made them twine their tails together (hold hands)?

.

[bakapandy]

ＧＡＡＲＡ

[caffichai]

Regular Abyssal Hunter downtime activities

[horreurscopes]

ELEKTRA: I am the shape you made me. Filth teaches filth.

(prints)(process video & high res)

[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.

[captainkirkk]

Concept: Fire Lords traditionally dress like the stages of the sun to match their reign.

When Zuko is first crowned, he dresses in the colours of dawn. Bright yellows and pinks and even purples. He starts to wear more traditional crimson-and-gold robes after a few years, the colours of midday when Agni is at his strongest. And towards the end of his reign, when he's getting ready to pass the crown onto Izumi, he starts dressing like the setting sun.

[myargalargan]

Colin repeatedly snubbing his siblings because of Penelope