#i should just stop creating

[an-theduckin]

Why am I not good at anything I do :(

[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.

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[thottybrucewayne]

I think what I want to get into with the "Anyone can do harm." thing that I keep beating yall over the head with is that literally anyone, anyone at all can do harm it's not "in your DNA" to be an abuser or written in the stars that you'll be a predator. Whatever image you have of an abuser in your head, drop it and replace it with your favorite person in the world and you'll probably be closer to the truth than you realize. It's easy to address harm when it's coming from someone you already hate. I see it happen all the time. Someone you couldn't stand for no real reason does something heinous then all of a sudden here comes the avalanche of "I always knew they were a fucked up individual." No, you didn't. There is no possible way you could have known, you just already didn't fuck with them before they started doing something you could use to justify your hatred of them. I'm guilty of it too! I'm petty, mean, vindictive, and yes! I'm way quicker to believe something bad about someone I hate versus someone I love because I'm human. Still, y all gotta learn to move past that initial "Well, they were always nice to me!" gut feeling and understand that nobody truly knows anyone and anyone can be capable of anything. Even victims. Even you.

[the-fallen-aesthetics]

[2022 Artwork]

I dont think I have posted this here before hehe

[moonandris]

✨NEW WRITEBLR TAG GAME JUST DROPPED✨

If you're struggling with breathing life into your OC's, try this funny yet stupidly simple trick/writeblr tag game I just came up with. I call it the 'Roast Your OCS and Make It Into a Title' tag game. 🤣

So, we've all heard of fictional character archetypes and stereotypes that are often present in fiction, right? We all know it's not good to have shallow, surface level characters that have no complexity or nuance to their personalities, because real life humans contain multitudes, contradictions, and are in general very complicated beings.

Throw all that shit out for this exercise and toss it into the trash! 🗑️ In this tag game, we're gonna be reducing all our OC's to the most basic, mundane, stereotypical/archetypal renditions of themselves and making it Fit Into a Title!

Here's an example of my main character + his besties from my Science Fantasy WIP:

Cold and Stoic Pretty Boy Loaner With Social Anxiety and Unhealed Trauma Tries to Save His Sister

Disowned Goth Femme Fatale With Bitchy Yet Gentle Attitude Is Socially Neglected and Cries A Lot

Occasionally Serious Himbo City Boy Cop Tries and Fails to Fight Crime With Therapy and Rehabilitation

Snobby Know-It-All Imperial Man Who Somehow Has Both A Superiority and Inferiority Complex

Protective Amazonian Lesbian Sadist Who Will Absolutely Step On You and Ruin Your Life Forever

Gifted Slutty Bisexual Boy Genius Is Hiding a Dark Secret and Is Very Zesty (Rude) About It

For this tag game I'm gonna be tagging A LOT of people but mainly people who've interacted with me recently. Free to reblog if you see this on your dash, even if you're not tagged. I find this shit HILARIOUS and I would love to see what everyone manages to come up with! No pressure at all if you don't wanna participate, this is all just for fun. ❤️😊

@in-heavens-trenches @revenantlore @cupandquillcafe @fattybattysblog @eames-with-a-rose

@gailynovelry @kestalsblog @dru-reads-writeblr @druidx @indigowriting

@diabolical-blue @writercoracain @tildeathiwillwrite @craig-h-stuart @illarian-rambling

@coarsely @rjcopeseethemald @jackiezenauthor @squarebracket-trickster @kaylinalexanderbooks

@pen-of-roses @flock-from-the-void @sarandipitywrites @buffythevampirelover @imsaanvikhanna

@songsofsomnia @shadow-of-tea-and-tea @owlsandwich @faeriecinna @hauntedluminarybbq

@sarahlizziewrites @ayzrules @rickie-the-storyteller @janec23

If you want some extra help you can also look up character stereotypes/archetypes like I did. There's hundreds of blog posts about this topic but here's some helpful links so you can judge/roast your OC's to your heart's content:

[iguessitsjustme]

An Appreciation Post of Sorts 6/?

[nocek]

Do you want to hear a funny story?

So you know that I was drawing spiderverse comics lately. Because they are fun to do. And I think people like them. I mean the most popular one has like 4K notes? That's lot for me when I usually dwell in tiny fandoms made out of like 3 people and their dog. So it's nice, everybody is having fun and I'm grateful.

but

BUT

I just found out that somebody took few of that comics. Cut them up and run the text through ai reading voice and posted it as reels on fucking youtube.

And it's not even that I'm stumped why even turn 4 pictures into video. First time I see such a time wasting thing but ok. People do like different things.

And even lke some effort was done to erase text from speech bubbles so it appears as the ai spews it aloud but it's not even about it

I had pictures taken and posted somewhere else. Usually without credit. At least this time it was credited? I guess I should be grateful.

What fucking gets me is that those comics have several hundred thousand views and few hundred comments each.

Like fucking seriously.

I don't know what's the point

I don;t know what should I feel about this

I mean unless you can make money on youtube reels? Then I can at least be pissed about it. Nice clean feeling?

Because what gets me is that most of those comments are nice so I should be happy about it? I guess? But I feel like a pathetic peeping tom looking for appreciation that wasn't given to me actually eve if I did the thing

ugh

I'm just tired

this day was already shitty so i guess it's time to give up and take a nap

next comic will be delayed

[magpie-trove]

*

[vulpinesaint]

want to post on ao3. don't want to write things to post on ao3. want to post on ao3.

[xxinvader-killdeerxx]

lower opacity rain & no rain

heres the ref

[5hr 38min]

[slyandthefamilybook]

I think we need to have a serious re-evaluation of what "leftist" means bc there ain't no fuckin way authcoms are on the same left as me lmao

[bicheetopuff]

Every day that goes by, the more terrified I become of the my hero academia live action project

[skeletoninthemelonland]

Seeing mouse man for first time i thought for a sec that you un-rabbitfied William tbh xD

Everyone un-rabbit that man

yeah!!!!!! un-rabbit that man!!!!

oh but that is so cool actually. i've seen artists drawing their favs differently every time until they're completely apart from the original character. they are so sexy for that tho

[athousandbyeol]

phi, do you know? actually, i don't want to go. if i'm asking for help, will phi help me?

[oilith]

Some practise with baby lilith. I feel like i'm hitting another turning point in my art soon. I seem to circle back to more stylised art lol