NaPoWriMo Vol. 3, 17.18.24
“What It Must Be Like to Not Be Me"
Were I were a wealthy man
I’d buy all that I wish
For money is the genie green inside a pocket-card
My life is plagued
Red in the books as England was by the Black
With doubt and dismay and dissident dreams
How can any man abide
The ill and misfortune
Of peer and pauper unacquainted
What antiquated notion
Leads wealth into lordhood
Even ancient lords did deny The Lord
Even The Lord did deny
The world
Much as wealthy men did materially
Spiritual currency spent and lent
Loaned like the spirit
Threaded in finer silks
Were I a wealthy man
Capable of such greatness I’d be
So that I might remedy kith and kin
To college and to leisure
If it be their pleasure
The bills and debts belayed
From me, it’s all to be paid
If I were a rich man
I’d be a bitch, man
Bit of a snitch, man
Selfish in a pinch, man
How different a life to lead
Filled with nothing that made me, me
Such lawn shavings will behead us all
How does the green fall like leaves far from autumn
Into the most contemptible of gardens?
@env0writes C.Buck
Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0
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Photo by my friend Mika
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love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking
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aloof trans women who are brash and graceless and boyish and dont pass well i have so much love for you in my heart keep going i want to see more of it
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The way some of yall mischaracterize Ratio as being stoic in chill when in reality he is 24/7 resisting the urge to rip everyone around him a new one is crazy to me like. He cares so much, so much. It’s unhealthy, he loses the idgaf war every time because Ratio is the least nonchalant person ever like
He was this close to breaking character and throttling Sunday like you cannot tell me he wasn’t planning a murder in this scene. Ratio straight up calls Sunday a crazy bitch but everyone brushed it aside 😭
Honestly his entire conversation with Screwllum is just him tweaking, watch it on YouTube the VAs performance is amazing, you can here just how much He Cares
Genuinely, Aventurine is way better at concealing his true feelings that Ratio. Ratio may be acting for the sake of the plan but the way he truly feels about anything he’s doing always seeps through, it’s why he apologizes to Aventurine in 2.0 in their staged argument scene. It’s why he is as mean to Sunday as he can be. It’s why him pretending that he “hates” Aventurine makes him act so silly. Ratio can’t fully commit to the bit, he can’t force himself to not care or to be someone he isn’t, because fundamentally Ratio CARES and that is something he is incapable of hiding, alabaster bust or not.
The problem is that him expressing his care is often done in a rude and/or blunt manner which people tend to interpret as stoicism or apathy when it’s anything but. Ratio’s vial that he gives to Aventurine is short, sweet and gets straight to the point, because that’s the easiest way for Ratio to express his emotions, even if it’s often detrimental for him and anyone else around him. However Aventurine understands him quite well, and knows that although brief, Ratio telling him to “stay alive, survive this and keep on living” is how he truly feels towards Aventurine, and that’s enough to keep him going.
Underneath Ratios carefully crafted marble facade is a man who cares so much and is so bad at expressing it and I wish the community in general, especially Aventio shippers would acknowledge that more. Ratios true moments of sincerity are brief, but they are anything but stoic. Let the man be soft, it’s in character.
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[ID: Trigun 98 fanart of Vash and Knives pointing their guns at each other while deadlocking each other by gripping the other by the other wrist. Knives says, "I'm genocide..." and Vash says "... and I'm peace." Impact font surrounded by flames captions them, "The Transgender Brothers." End ID]
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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
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Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.
His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.
Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.
Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.
They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.
Eddie agrees.
It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.
The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.
Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.
Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.
But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.
He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.
So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.
It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.
Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.
Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.
Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.
Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.
"But what if I let you down?"
"You won't."
"But-"
"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."
And he was.
They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.
He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.
He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.
When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.
But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.
Of course Steve was there.
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sure it was a perfect storm of a pressure cooker but i promise destiel was about destiel
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Guess what I did
my art
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My page for @kairizine. It was such a huge honor to be part of this wonderful book with everyone, I had so much fun!
[id in alt!]
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the 2nd half of death note should've just gone full comedy complete with a laugh track and had these two dissing each other the whole time
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Welcome everyone, please join us on Baby Poldine’s First Hike! This is going to be a long post because lots of nothings happened :)
Our short-term goal was making it all the way to the torrent without Poldine getting so stressed about being away from her family that we had to turn back.
Our long-term goal: finally having a picnic-carrying llama to accompany us on hikes, which isn’t something I’ve been able to achieve with Pampe because she’s Pampe, nor with Mama Pampy because she’s the matriarch and dislikes leaving her herd behind. (Is there a collective noun? a misdemeanour of llamas? or is it just herd?)
Emotional support cats were recruited to make things less stressful for Poldine. I had to interrupt their afternoon nap on the couch and carry them to the pasture one after the other, and they just lay there looking a bit bewildered, like can we resume our nap or...? But once they saw us dragging Poldine away into the woods they all got curious and followed.
The llamas were a bit suspicious of these shenanigans and started retreating when I carried the second cat outside, so I sent my friend to the greenhouse to get some strawberries, which immediately brought the llamas back.
Although Poldine took one bite of her strawberry and then refused to eat any more of it, because she’s still a baby who only likes familiar foods. (Her grandma volunteered to eat the rest of the half-bitten strawberry.)
One thing we discovered about Pampoldine as we started the hike is that she gets very worried about being a lone llama when we stand still, but she looks reassured as soon as we resume walking. I think us walking decidedly while holding her rope makes her feel like she has a confident leader, while seeing us stop for any reason makes her panic like oh my god, you have no idea what you’re doing and which way to go, do you?
She occasionally tried to rebel and go back in the direction of her pasture, and in these moments all we had to do was grab the nearest cat and toss it in front of her. She would immediately pounce, enchanted, to try and kiss it; the cat would dart away like no thanks!! and Poldine would follow, and off we went again.
Another thing we discovered about Poldine is that she is a compulsive cheek-kisser when stressed. As long as there is someone to nuzzle, the situation can’t be completely hopeless. So we had to accept a lot of kisses.
As you can see, we made it to the torrent! It took a bit of patient coaxing to get her to go in the water (I think she was wary of stepping on the round slippery pebbles) but once she went in she looked intrigued and delighted. She was stomping her little feet to make splashes, and wading about, we actually had trouble convincing her to leave!
For some reason she was more reluctant to follow us on the way back. Maybe once all the excitement of splashing in the stream died down, she suddenly remembered that she was alone far from her pasture and family and got stressed again. We once again tried the method that consists in throwing cats in front of us every now and then, like leaving a trail of bread crumbs behind you except the opposite and with cats. (Note that the cats had the option to flee from this disgraceful treatment any time.) Merricat and Mascarille were talented bait, often leading the way of their own initiative, but Morille complicated things by being a big baby who’d stop dead and start screaming whenever she came across any amount of water. Then we had to carry her across so she wouldn’t get her paws wet.
Pictured below: me, a llama, two cats, then a rivulet (where the mossy rocks are) and Morille lagging behind and screaming pitifully, waiting for a kind soul to carry her.
We made it to the pine area of the woods and Poldine started walking a lot more cheerfully, and sniffing the air with an eager little nose, which was strange because we were still quite far from her pasture so it wasn’t home or other llamas she could smell. We wondered if perhaps she enjoyed the smell of pine resin (it does smell wonderful on warm days!), but then we left the pine woods and entered the hazel woods and she was looking even happier and walking even faster, and then we realised. We were being followed and had been for a while.
Look at her smug little face. (It turns out she escaped because I forgot to tell my friend one of the pasture gates has a latch with an anti-Pampe dual safety system.) Ah, well, it wouldn’t be a proper llama post without Pampérigouste showing up somewhere she’s not supposed to be. She was being so discreet stalking us from afar behind a curtain of trees, we wondered if she’d been following us from the beginning. I hope not, because this small torrent ends up in the Atlantic Ocean and nothing good can come from Pampe discovering how to reach other continents.
Pampe stayed with Poldine long enough to make it look like she’d escaped out of concern for her daughter and not to find out where running water is so she can one day sail to freedom, then she left to have more adventures by herself, completely indifferent to Poldine’s little “mummy, stay :( ” baby goat cries.
Morille and Mascarille also deserted us (it looked like Pampe had promised them a more exciting hike) but thankfully we hadn’t run out of cats, and were able to go home at a decent pace thanks to Merricat, professional llama bait.
All things considered it was a very successful hike! I’m glad Poldine enjoyed the water—now I want to take her to the spots that have a series of little waterfalls, see what she’d make of them :) Or even to the deeper pool you can swim in, who knows, maybe she’ll dive in! Throwing a cat in the water to encourage her would help a lot but I probably won’t do that. They’re very helpful cats who didn’t complain about being tossed ahead like petanque balls to show Poldine the way, but I don’t want to push my luck.
(I regrettably don’t have a picture of this but sometimes when I stopped walking, Poldine would rest her head on my shoulder like “...well? are we lost?” with her little bunny ears tapping the side of my head inquisitively and it was really cute.)
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percy repeating that he can be good over and over again to himself while covered in the blood after an overwhelming unleash of volatile rage that destroyed all that threatened his loved ones while grover holds his face and steadily grounds him back to reality
("i'm safe, we're safe, it's safe, just breathe")
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so one time i got bit by a brown recluse which is one of the only types of spider in my area that's actually dangerous and at first i didn't know what had happened to me, only that it was nasty. the swelling wasn't going down and the wound started to get ugly. i don't want to like get into the details because that's gross but it got to the point 2 weeks later that i was worried enough to go to the doctor, which i hate doing.
i am not afraid of spiders but other people are so i'd been covering it with this big ole square bandage (i needed more landscape coverage than a simple bandaid) and sat in the university medical waiting room, kicking my heels and playing BOTW. the nurse who admitted me was like, oh, we have got to get Tom to cover this one. she wrote spider bite under my ticket.
i waited in the near-empty building for like an hour and then nurse tom shows up in spiderman scrubs, out of breath. "sorry," he says, "i saw - your slip - and I had," he heaves in a breath, "to run home and. get. these scrubs. i literally. ran. felt like a job. for. spiderman."
i laugh. he puts his hands on his knees, thumbs-ups at me. fishes a pamphlet out from under his clipboard that basically says spiders can be scary but you don't need to be scared, there's very few dangerous spiders in new england. "honestly," he wheezes, "we probably don't need to get you into an exam room. just..." he waves his hand at the pamphlet, "read that."
i look down at my arm. then back at him in his scrubs. and then down at my arm. i like that he made an effort to make a joke, but now it does not feel like a good joke, because they are mistaking my calm for a lack of injury. "can i. like. at least show you the bite?"
he gives me kind of a weird look, which is fair, but then says. "if. i mean, if you have to."
i peel the bandage off. his face goes green.
"oh," he says.
"yeah, man."
"a... spider bit you?" his voice is high and tight and trembling. he backs up a few steps.
"i think a brown recluse," i offer. "i know it's nasty, sorry."
"excuse me for a moment." he looks over to the administering nurse on the other side of the small room. "i need to find someone else to take care of you."
the administering nurse smiles over to us with a degree of pleasure that is almost salivating. for a moment, like a window opening, i am briefly aware of what must be a psychic message floating amongst the in-between. her jaguar teeth all say this is like a party for me and i know exactly what i'm doing.
"oh no, tom," she says, grinning. "i gave her to you specifically."
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