#how would this make sense???

[aranciadotcom]

i just saw a theory on youtube saying that reimagined chris' dad is his uncle in classic

i'm wildly befuddled rn

[newtid]

saw this post and could not stop thinking about @punkitt-is-here as elmo's aunt i NEEDED to draw her

also also while i was drawing i thought up a sesame street episode plot that i think is cute

Elmo's uncle is coming over to visit, but they're looking a little different! They explain to Elmo that sometimes people realise things about themselves and that they start to change, which makes them happier- and though they won't quite be the same as before, that won't make them love you any less. So even if they won't be his amazing uncle anymore, she hopes she can still be his amazing aunt.

ggyuhhg hapoy pride mont 💥🔥‼️💪

letter of the day is T

[oobbbear]

I want to post this here too because I’ve seen it happen a few times

Please understand that there are cultural differences and language differences, if you see this happening let the person clarify what they meant, that person might just not be familiar with words the western side of the internet use

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[oposssumsaucee]

Listen All Systems Red is so so funny from Gurathins perspective imagine you grew up with Space Socialism and was hired to go help some pal with science but you weren't allowed to go unless you rented AmaTeslas Torment Nexus Alexa Dot and then when you get there you find out a whole continent of people got annihilated by their Tourment Nexus rentals so you take a moment to check yours quickly and find out it already had disengaged its Don't Kill People box, the only thing you've ever been told prevented them from mass homiciding their clients, something that LITERALLY just happened to people you knew a day ago, and when you say to your fellow socialist doctors HEY I think our Tourment Nexus is fucked up and it's files said it killed dozens of people barely a year ago and we should probably get the hell away from it the same doctors are like look at what you're saying. You're hurting the Tourment Nexus' feelings. The Tourment Nexus is just a little construct who likes Netflix Gurathin stop antagonizing it on the plane ride.

[uncanny-tranny]

The leftism/anticapitalism leaving people's bodies the zeptosecond you imply that disabled people who aren't "productive" still matter in society and need to be treated like intrinsic equals who have a place in this world:

[renata-dp]

Since I've seen it I couldn't stop thinking about it (please don't kill me x,,d)

Ironically I think Doofenshmirtz and Perry's dynamic kinda could work with Mike and William

[second part here]

[guinevereslancelot]

it's a beautiful day at the roman senate and you are a horrible goose

[sam-violet]

chillin in the hot springs 🌱

+ a closeup

[puppyeared]

Wyrm on a string

[cowardlykrow]

“Not my circus, not my monkeys”… Except those are his monkeys and they are the circus

[bacchuschucklefuck]

while teen while goblin while aroace while injured while doing your best

[thedreadvampy]

Losing my shit about this article in which a transphobic Tory was so busy panicking about existing in the vicinity of a Trans that she almost certainly misheard "jeans" as "penis" and decided that not only was this a problem with the other woman, but also that the world must be informed of this pressing danger.

"a trans woman! I had to stand directly behind her....I thought, 'this is going well', I'm handling The Situation fine'..."

translated: I saw a tall woman with broad shoulders. How would I get out of this alive? I thought. she has a PENIS. PENIS PENIS PENIS. through some force of PENIS I mean will I managed to PENIS behave normally towards her. My hands were PENIS PENIS PENIS shaking as I tried to dry them. summoning up all my PENIS courage I said 'dryer's crap innit'. she turned to me and said " yeah I'm just goiPENIS PENIS PENIS"

It's been a week and I'm still shaking. This proves trans women are the problem and I'm not weird. I'm fine. It's fine. If you think about it I'm the hero hePENIS!!!!!

very this

[emily-e-draws]

Sonia 💛

[iite-cool]

he can't be gentle. how could he possibly be something that was beaten out of him so cruelly at such a young age?

you don't get soft fingers dancing lightly along your hairline as you sleep on his lap, no, you get a large, calloused paw brushing back your hair so he can see your pretty, pretty features better cos it was annoying him. he can't hold your hand don't be daft he'll crack your smaller bones in half... is the reasoning that he hopes will convince himself to stop fucking thinking about playing with your pretty fingers and pressing soft kisses to them. he's not soft! he's a killing machine! he knows nothing but anger and rage and numbness. so what is this strange fuzzy sensation in the hollow hole in his chest that's bothering him? why does it feel good? why is it making him fucking smile?

when he curls his mass around your sleeping body, don't be mistaken. he doesn't want to feel the way you fit perfectly against him. he's just.. trying to swallow you whole. he's not trying to get closer to you no no he's actually attempting to steal your joy. it's not as if you lessen the, thus far, endless and overwhelming burden of his corporeal blight oh no he's just using you.

everytime he presses his mouth against you and doesn't suck your blood out, he reasons that he's practising self-control and instead forcing himself to leave featherlight kisses that make you giggle oh so sweetly even when he knows deep down that he'd pluck out every one of his own teeth if even one dared puncture your skin. simon's not a soft man. he's not a gentle man. he's killed countless with the very hands that you play with. he tells himself you mean nothing to him, that he could walk away and forget you whenever he felt like it but everytime he wishes that his fingers were softer so that they may be more pleasant upon your skin and everytime he wishes that his lips were less chapped so that you may kiss him more, he knows he's fighting a losing battle.

simon riley will become a soft and gentle man in your embrace and there's not one thing he can do to prevent it.

masterlist

pls comment i have so many thoughts about this man that need to be talked about xx