liminal week between Christmas and New Year's! time to eat leftovers and sleep late and watch movies in bed
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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.
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Look wake is not winning any mother of the year awards but you also have to consider, Gideon was her unwanted pregnancy she went through with to keep john from continuing to colonize her people. it's clear that wake had family she DID love and chose to prioritize their future. But years later, after watching gideon sacrifice everything for the empire wake spent her whole life fighting, with no indication Gideon will ever switch sides, wake chooses not to destroy her. Apparently for no other reason than that she's her child. meanwhile john sticks his traumatized recently dead 19 year old on the front lines of a war! now WHO do y'all think should win this custody battle
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A/B/O Prompt List
In honour of Knot In My Name, the ‘Omegaverse is fucking up AI writing because they keep stealing fanfic’ fest, I made some A/B/O prompts, because fuck AI scrapers.
First heat
I know we’ve only just started dating but my heat arrived and I need you
Scent marking
I stole your sweater because it smells like you and it makes me feel safe
“Please, I want your knot.”
Why is it that I, the only beta in this OT3/4/5+, am the only one who knows what to do?
Pack dynamics
I’m trying to get things done but you smell so good
Heat caught them by surprise
Our Alpha pack member is having their rut and we’re doing rock-paper-scissors on who gets to help them out first
“You’re so cute when you’re needy.”
Knotting toys
The pack has one coveted article of clothing they all share
Courting
“I didn’t want to bother you at work so I kind of got started without you.”
Nesting
I didn’t know Omegas could have such big dicks and now I’m all flustered
“I want [Beta] to take care of me.”
Heat bond
We met via the Knottr app for a casual heat hookup and oh shit you’re my crush
Deciding to let someone new into the pack
Dystopian A/B/O AU
I love you, but your heats are so intense and I need back-up
Cute scent-based nicknames
Fuck all that, we are strong independent Omegas who don’t need an Alpha
Silly ways to pass the time while being tied together by a knot
Heat/Rut agency
“You get a little stupid when you have your rut, it’s cute.”
Reciprocal heat
I know we’re both Alphas but I still want to climb you like a tree.
I have a specific A/B/O prompt in mind I’m gonna send you instead
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not to be like this but all of the posts (and there are many across multiple platforms) right now going "I mean obviously I'm not mad or whining or anything but it sucks that there's all these three week breaks, how am I going to survive, this is awful, I cannot believe this is happening to me" like, it does in fact come off as entitled no matter how many qualifiers are put onto it
and the a smaller subset of THAT going "CLEARLY C3 isn't a priority for the studio" or "they're obviously trying to kill C3" or even posting stuff that comes off as "um, don't they know that if they keep doing this I won't shop here watch anymore", like, come on
as a tangent, genuinely, I feel like a lot of people have trouble admitting that they don't actually like C3 so they get existentially worried about them losing interest over a slightly longer break because it'll force them to acknowledge that they aren't actually interested, but it's fine not to be interested!
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(WIP) Music Monday Tag | Tagged by @simplegenius042
The rules: Post a song that is relevant to your WIP or inspires it. I’m also including the lyrics.
I can play dirty, I won't have no mercy
Drop a match on my white flag, burn it down, lay it on my grave
I can be nasty, shoot you down in a backstreet
Run the town, favorite blonde vigilante
Blood on my guilty hands
I'll go pour a drink, man, 'cause it's Friday
Done with thinking, just wanna party
Bet it sucks to be you, well, go figure
You're the sucker who pulled the trigger
Go pour a drink, man, 'cause it's Friday
Got my best friend parked in my driveway
While I sip gin and juice and fuck with ya
Just remember who pulled the trigger
I started in a guarded place
I was young, full of faith
No one even knew my name
But still, I chased, ran the race
Do you know what I've been through?
I've felt forsaken with lost truths
Do you know what I've been through?
I can taste triumph
With the heart of a lion
You could be the endgame
Eye of the hurricane
Sleet in the pouring rain
You would be the checkmate
Loving what we became
Riding the tidal wave
You could the kingpin
Changing the world again
Sleep when the day is dead
You would be my weakness
Loving like Venus
Rule the apocalypse
And we got caught in the storm
At the end was the key to my heart
You were my lover for life
Oh, there's no time to sleep
Oh, living in a dream
So take me to the paradise in your eyes
Green like American money
You taste just right, sweet like Tennessee honey
And we can run away, swimming in the sunlight everyday
Oh, paradise in your eyes
Tagging, @strafethesesinners @strangefable @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @la-grosse-patate
@rhettsabbott @marivenah @shellibisshe @purplehairsecretlair @cassietrn
@josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @voidika @imogenkol @finding-comfort-in-rain
@gearvmac @trench-rot @thesingularityseries @hookhearted @onehornedbeast
@justasmolbard @simonxriley @aceghosts @theelderhazelnut @kyber-infinitygems
@carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook and anyone that would like to share some music <3
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