#*an active part

[lokilysolbitch]

y'all. i swear. able bodied people. ohh my fucking god. oh my god

there's a flavor of ableism im experiencing where some people think they are my fucking life coach and handler that i didn't ask for and mind you they interact with me once a month at BEST.

they think that since im disabled im automatically mopey, self pitying, clueless on my own body, etc etc etc, to the point where they're passive aggressively suggesting to my ROOMMATE that they are enabling me????? did i mention these people see me one time in a month AT BEST. and most of those meetings aren't in person. oh. my fucking god. oh my god.

truly they are just mad i'm disabled. they're solely mad that i can't do things 'normally'. they're mad i need more time to rest and that i'm usually in some sort of pain. that's why they keep slapping on basic remedies like just do this and do that and then they get mad when that doesn't work or i literally can't do it bc i am DIS-abled. quite literally bc im not fucking abled to their liking. they'd prefer i was in pain and looking normal for the sake of it.

and they view disability as a sad useless life. the way i hold myself and take care of myself shows inherently that i value my own happiness and capabilities and im willing to take unconventional ways to achieve it. i don't hide it. i don't hide my cane because i need it and it helps me be happy and capable. i don't hide that im semi verbal. if i can't talk i won't talk and i'll communicate in other ways. because i need to. it keeps me happy and capable. so for them to see me, not to be cheesy, living authentically, and for them to see that as me 'doing nothing to help myself/moping/languishing in pain' is a reflection of how they see disability. when they eventually become disabled from age or a major life event, they'll run themselves into the ground, 'pushing through the pain' trying not to look disabled. but that's their choice. that's their body.

what i wanna know is why they feel so entitled to make that decision for me.

[rioblitzle]

working retail

[artistic-cocoon]

Saw someone on twt say they wanted to see Percy drawn like Yusuf Dikec and I couldn't help myself

[nicolegmattos]

Michael “acting choices” Sheen serving as always lol

[egophiliac]

I just realized it'll take the eng server almost a year to reach the 3D Cheka T pose model :' ) we're at book 7 part 6, and we get a new main story update every 2 to 3 months..

Anyway, do you wanna share some fun, spoiler-free shenanigans that happened in jp's server.? Just to have some crumbs to lick off the table until we get our own sandwich (my heart is empty and my soul is crying)

spoiler-free is pretty hard, especially considering. the, uhhh, particular turn that things take directly after 6. (like, the fact that the other characters are showing up probably counts on its own?) and I do think that if you can avoid getting spoiled, most of it is definitely better as a surprise! some of the genuinely best Twst moments are waiting for you. :D

if I may, however, present one of my favorite little throwaway bits with absolutely no context:

[heph]

New Nightmares ⚠️

[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.

[knightofleo]

Angela Orosco Silent Hill 2

[stil-lindigo]

PALESTINIAN FAMILY FORCED TO RESTART FUNDRAISING - PLEASE DONATE!

PROGRESS: £520 / £35,000

a little while ago, I was contacted by Amal Abushaban, a Palestinian mother of 5, for help regarding her Gofundme campaign.

In summary, after spending months raising over $13,000 for her family, she attempted to withdraw the money. She did everything right, she answered Gofundme's questions, she provided the details of her beneficiary and she contacted their support team - only to be left in the dark until an email came one day, notifying her that her campaign had been closed and all donations were now in the process of being refunded.

I tried kicking up a major fuss about it online, as well as trying to pester Gofundme Support on my own account, but all it did was send me in circles as I desperately pleaded for the Gofundme Support person I was assigned to at least re-instate the damn fund. Even worse, Amal got her first email today about refunds going through.

Regrettably, Amal is being forced to start over completely in her fundraising efforts. Her beneficiary has started this Paypal fund for her. Please donate and share!

PROGRESS: £520 / £35,000

[ofswordsandpens]

adding to the "there should have been more genuine tension within the seven" train of thought, it would have been funny if the Argo II, technically being a ship, meant it fell under Percy's power domain and he could control it all at whim, rendering all the carefully crafted controls Leo built useless if Percy felt like being an asshole

[heartless-aro]

People when a character is aromantic or aromantic coded: Wowie! They’re aroACE! Because they aren’t interested in romance! Look at how aroace they are!

People when a character is aroace or aroace coded: Isn’t it cool that this character is asexual? Asexual icon! They’re such great asexual representation :)

[crescentfool]

reunion 🌸

[egophiliac]

I had to turn the boops off (sorry!), so here is a little Malleus for you all to boop instead! he has no thoughts in that little brain of his!

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It had been a long few minutes since he'd opened the door and there were a lot of questions running through Dick's head. Most pressing of which was how this kid seems to have information he should not have.

"How did you..?" he asked, but the words wouldn't leave completely. There's so much he wants to know, so much he wants to ask.

"How do I what?" Danny tilted his head like the child he seems to be is.

"How do you know?" Dick knows he sounds weak. There's no hiding that, but there are a lot of implications in what the kid has said so far and none of it is painting a very happy picture for him.

"Oh!" Danny had the audacity to smile, "You want to know how I know you moonlight as a vigilante!" And of course he knows. Dick knows he knows, but he'd held a little bit of hope that the child Danny was mistaken. Danny's smile softened a bit as he explained, "Your hair and voice match up in both jobs almost perfectly. Not to mention your build and how you hold yourself. There's also the matter of your overall vibes, but that's not something living beings can normally pick up on." Excuse him? "Well, not living humans, at least, so no worries on that end!"

"Excuse me?" Dick was fairly sure his heart just stopped beating for a moment there.

"Anyway, I was a hero back home for a while, too. I know what it's like to have to walk the tightrope between maintaining a civilian cover and a hero persona. I know how it feels to have to keep secrets from everyone because anyone who knows will be in danger." he rambled, Though, admittedly, our circumstances are quite different. I was working as a hero all hours of the day as well as going to school. You only have to worry about properly balancing between day and night jobs. Either way, me having more to bounce between just makes me al the more qualified to help you!"

Oh. Oh he did not like that. He didn't like a single thing that just came out of the kid's mouth. Because that's what he is, a kid. "Are you...Are you alright?"

"Not in the slightest," Danny admitted with an even smaller smile. Then, it brightened, not quite to a grin, but to something similar, "But I'm here to make sure you are."

He gets points for being honest, but Dick felt his heart shatter. He knew for a fact that he'd never worked with this kid before. He also knew that the Justice League didn't know about him. If they did, he would've been picked up and dropped with either the Young Justice team or the Titans.

Dick wasn't going to ask why he became a hero because that's not his place. It's more of a 'third mission with the team' kind of questions, anyway. Most of the heroes didn't have many options when they took up the mantle. Asking what Danny can do is a more appropriate question, but he wasn't going to ask that, either.

"Now that that's out of the way," Danny turned a few pages from the table of contents to another one that was topped with 'Why Sleep Scheduling Is Important' in the blue glitter pen that Dick was starting to suspect he favored. "You're not getting enough sleep. Following you around - no one's been able to find me for a while, so don't worry about that - for the last two weeks has given me some really worrisome information on you."

Dick was worrying. He was worrying a lot and even more questions were coming to the forefront of his mind.

"Your dayjob is as an officer on the Bludhaven Police Force, or BPD for short." He was looking over the page he'd turned to very aptly and Dick realized that the kid had notes written on him. "The average hours per week for police across the country is forty hours. Gotham and Bludhaven are the exceptions. As a member of the BPD, you work a solid two days and two hours. Six nights a week, you work as Nightwing from eight in the evening to three in the morning. The last day, you take off, which is good. No deserable pattern, so good on you for that. Regardless, that's seven hour nights and ten hour days, with one day off and one day on call as an officer. Seven hours are now left in your day for personal time, eating, and sleeping. That's not a healthy way to live."

Oh, god, the kid had honest to god notes on him! What the hell!

Danny didn't even skip a beat as he pulled Dick's attention back to him and his binder. "I've drawn up a schedule for you to follow." The back of the page had a meticulously drawn schedule, complete with blocks of time to eat, sleep, work both jobs, travel, personal time, and still have a bit extra left over. It was titled 'Ideal End Result' in green marker. "Drastic changes right away will only affect you negatively, so we're starting off smaller." The next page over had another schedule titled 'Where To Begin'. "I've only pulled one hour from your Nightwing hours because I know important that time is to you and the city. I am, however, going to be having you submit an appeal to your boss to cut back your hours from fifty a week to forty a week. That way, you'll only be working eight hours a day and not ten. You'll still be on call for one day, and you'll have that last day off. Altogether, you'll be going be going from working seventeen hours a day to fourteen hours a day. Nine in the morning to five in the afternoon, and eight in the evening to two in the morning. Not including breaks at work or travel time. It opens up a few more hours for you to sleep!"

"You really think the chief is going to pull back my hours?" Dick raised an eyebrow in question.

"He will if he knows what's good for him."

"You know I can arrest you for that threat, right?"

"Yeah, but you won't." And, damn it, he's right.

Although, there was now another thing he had to know. "How to you plan on enforcing this schedule of yours?"

Danny seemed to have been waiting for this. He got a gleam in his eye as he pulled a black folder from his bag, not breaking eye contact with Dick. He placed it on the table and pushed it across. "Congratulations, it's a boy."

Part 1 Part 3

[civetside]

i was gonna draw the pool scene TM for real but then i remembered i hate drawing water so i did this instead

[exasperatedoctopus]

On a scale from completely cutting them out of your life and moving to the other end of the galaxy (Julian) to subconsciously metamorphosing into a murderous goo creature and attacking them on sight (Odo), how well do you deal with your garbage-tier parental figure?