#The Invisible People

[possible-streetwear]

[wanologic]

and they were roommates

[mythicalcoolkid]

You don't wish your disability was worse or more visible, you wish your disability was taken seriously. Please stop confusing the two, I guarantee you would not get the support you need JUST by being more severe or more visible. Please listen to visibly disabled people when we tell you it isn't better on our side

[ancient-reverie]

a moment of silence for all us disabled ones who had to watch each of their friends move on with their lives without you and get jobs, go to school, have partners come and go, get engaged and move house etc.

shout out to my fellow struggling people who are still sitting in the same bedroom they grew up in. the ones who can't get a job, can't make new friends, can't find a partner or partners, can't move house and can't go to school.

I hope one day we can all find someone to at least sit with us in our rooms. I see you and I understand... and I'm sorry we can't be that person for each other

[tombraiderrocker]

If they claim they can cure your condition that you have been told is incurable, run. If they claim they cured themselves, run. If they claim they have cured everything from cancer to lupus holistically, run. If they claim you have to buy only supplements from them, run. If they claim they that only thing that will cure is x but x costs tons of money, run. If they refuse to run tests or address your diagnosed conditions before insisting you do an expensive treatment not covered by insurence, run. If they offer a one size fits all treatment/cure, run.

I have been scammed by "holistic" and "naturalistic" people before as a chronically ill person. In fact it was an actual doctor who went to medical school who scammed me for years. So watch out. If it seems too good to be true it probably is.

[goryhorroor]

“there are several reasons why the horror genre declined – in both quality and popularity – at the tail end of the 1930s & into the 40s. firstly, the narrative conventions became so well established that they appeared formulaic and predictable, especially when the same-old same-old monsters were put into rotation time and time again. then, political strife curtailed a lot of european filmmaking. thirdly, movies with supernatural, violent, science fiction or fantasy elements became a target for literal-minded censors, who were concerned that the masses might believe or, still worse, imitate the horrors they witnessed on the silver screen.”

[4spooniesupport]

[transratsactivist]

in summer of 2021 i got my first shot of the covid vaccine in a rural vaccination centre. the person working there was very respectful and asked how to gender me correctly. it was a very small interaction but it stuck with me, especially after i got misgendered a bunch at my city's vaccination centre when i got shot #2. in summer of 2022 i talked with some people at a trans meet up and one of them told me that their transfem friend worked at that rural vaccination centre and had briefed the rest of the staff on trans identity. i have such a fondness for this trans stranger whose efforts impacted me in this small way and made my experience getting vaccinated a positive one. and it gives me hope that the work i do when i educate cis people around me might have a positive impact on trans people i will never meet

[kizzer55555]

Core Gems

So when a ghost becomes injured, they have a last ditch defense where they retreat into their core. And I mean, injured badly where their body is rip apart to the point they can’t hold a solid form anymore. And they basically go into a hibernation state until they are strong enough to form again.

Ellie, Danny, and Dan are all injured in a final battle against the GIW. The organization was destroyed and the ghosts were safe but the halfas ended up being so injured that they reverted to core form and then went to sleep for a bit. When they woke up, they were still weak but at least recovered enough to gain consciousness. And realize…they are in some kind of auction…in the middle of a heist. It appeared that two furries (one in a bat costume and one in a cat costume) were ducking it out. And they…they were a necklace. All three of them had been turned into a necklace with their cores as gems accompanied by sapphires, pearls, and opals. And frankly gorgeous craftsmanship as the metal was crafted around their cores as if to cradle them and the other gems.

Unfortunately, they were too weak to take a form properly, they could still feel the strain on their bodies. But at least they could still communicate through their auras. Then the cat lady punched a hole in the glass container surrounding them and grabbed their necklace.

However, the bat grabbed the other end and it resulted in a sort of tug-a-war. Meanwhile, Danny, Ellie, and Dan were having a back and form commentary on the situation and what they should do. Completely unheard by the other party.

In the corner of their eye, the three halfas finally noticed a third contender. Some kind of clown who was…hold on…holding a gun?! And it was pointed straight at the two fighting furies who had yet to notice him. The ghosts’ protective instincts went into overdrive and they frantically tried to shout, yell, move. Just do something to warn the two but their cries fell on deaf ears. All they succeeded in doing was faintly glow which immediatly caught the attention of the fighting duo. The two turned to look at the strange necklace but right at that moment, the clown fired and a gunshot rang throughout the auction room. Having no other options, Danny and the others poured every ounce of ectoplasm they had to try and phaseshift, making the two furries intangible as the bullets passed right through them, but in their shock, the two jumped away in opposite directions and accidentally ripped the necklace apart. Gems and pearls went flying and the three cores bounced along the ground.

Luckily, the two finally noticed the clown and went to deal with him and his minions who had appeared. Seemingly putting their fight on hold and forming a temporary truce. The three halfas could only watch as the battle finally wound down, ending with the cops barging into the place and arresting the clown and his grunts, the cat managing to escape with half the scattered gems and pearls from the broken necklace along with a few other jewelry pieces (none of their cores though) and the bat leaving through a skylight.

The auction continued and in the end, despite being broken, their necklace seemed to have caught someone’s interest. A man named Bruce Wayne bought up every piece of the shattered jewelry wear. The auctioneers appeared relived that the item managed to sell in the end and gratefully gave it to him.

Bruce had no idea what happened at the auction, but he could have sworn that some of the gems faintly glowed right before he and Selina were shot. If the necklace was some sort of magical item, then he needed to understand exactly what has been brought to Gotham. It was unfortunate that Selena had taken some parts of the necklace but he utilized his vast wealth to make sure all the other parts ended in his possession. Now he would take them back to the mansion for examination.

[dicaeopolis]

Run don't walk into oncoming traffic. Without looking. Without apology. Without a crosswalk

[slipintotragedy]

it’s disability pride month so i want to talk about one of my least favorite stigmas around celiac disease

in lots of media, being gluten free is played as a joke or something someone is to be annoying/pretentious. the amount of times i’ve heard jokes like that is honestly disheartening.

it also doesn’t help with the general population’s belief that celiac disease/gluten sensitivities are not serious. i’ve been diagnosed with celiac disease for 3 years now, i’ve been gluten free for about 4, and it has substantially improved my quality of life. i can’t afford risking cross-contamination because it leaves me sick for days. nearly every time i have a reaction to gluten, it’s hard for me to even drink water the next day because my body is an absolute mess. i’m miserable and fatigued for days until my body heals. not to mention the long term effects that have left me unable to stand/walk around for extended periods of time because my joints are pretty weak.

being gluten free NEEDS to be taken seriously. it’s not a choice i’ve made because i’m hoping on the latest fad, its not a preference, it’s an autoimmune disorder.

[possible-streetwear]

Greater Than One

[radiance1]

Alfred Pennyworth has in fact, perhaps, in the slightest of chances.

Picked up his Master's habit of collecting children as if they were on sale.

He was spending his time on one of those rare vacations he decided to take, it was nice, to relax with only the vague overhanging worry of something going wrong back at the manor that he's gotten very good at ignoring.

Only to come across a child bleeding out in an alley, heavily injured.

He would not be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help them however he could.

Such is how he acquired a child he later found to be a meta who whished to learn the ways of a butler.

---

Danny had escaped from a GIW compound, after having been handed over by his family a while after his reveal. He felt, completely and utterly betrayed, when it happened. His parents, while hurt, he was at least capable of actually seeing them do it, but never would he have thought Jazz would do so as well.

They did it so happily, that he wondered if letting him go really was the greatest thing to happen to this family.

He chained, muzzled, all the ways to bind him they pulled all the stops too, knowing how dangerous he was. He wouldn't have even done anything then, too stunned by his families apart willingness at handing him over to the government.

He hated them.

He hated them so much.

The GIW facility was a terrible, cold, unfeeling place. One where they drilled thoughts into his head again and again until he found himself unconsciously repeating them when his head felt empty, one where his body gained a new mark day by day and pushed through tests, he had no clue of even hoping to comprehend what they would gain out of it.

It was a cold, unfeeling place. Placed in a cell of white and nothing else, with low walls and chains binding his body in place until the time came for another experiment.

It was a room he grew used to. One he even held some kind of strange, twisted affection for.

It was a room that held a tiny piece of safety, of rest. It was a room that taught him to hate.

A deep, powerful, disgusting, twisting hatred that crawled from the depths of his cells, corrupting his blood and carving itself deep into his bones. Forcing it's out of his pores until it practically oozed from his flesh.

It drowned his mind, tainting each and every thought, every memory, every dream, every waking moment until he could feel nothing but hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

When he was taken out of that he could feel nothing, with the drugs swimming their way through his blood that snapped the thin string keeping him between a person and an emotionless puppet.

He thinks that's what the GIW thinks he is.

And when he was placed back in that room, he could only hate.

It was a cycle. Stuck between feeling either nothing or hatred.

He hated feeling nothing, it made him feel like he wasn't real. Like it snapped the thread that held him between what a real person was and a dream.

So, he allowed himself to drown deep into his hatred. Until the white walls of his far to small room seemed to fade, until whatever sound he could have heard became nothing but dull noise.

Until the passage of time seemed to become just a blink.

He didn't know what day it was, when he saw it. Saw them. He didn't know the time, the date, the day, the hours. He knew nothing.

But he could recognize his family. Recognize one of the objects of his intense hatred that he forced his thoughts too. The people who willingly gave him up just like that and one of the causes for his current life.

He didn't know why they showed him them, he felt it some sick, utterly cruel joke. A joke he didn't know the punchline for, a joke the universe sent his way to make his life all the more miserable.

There were multiple of them. Multiple clones of his family. Som within test tubes, some being pulled out from the tubes, some walking around in lab coats. A waste of talent, they called it in his dad's case, a waste of intelligence in his mother's, and a waste of intellect in his sister's case.

His original family was already dead, he was told. Replaced by clones, clones that took over the legal decision to change his guardianship. Clones walking around twisting and desecrating his family.

'At least it was painless.' One of the clones said, talking with his mother's face. 'Far more than they deserved for having keeping a thing like him' spoken by his father's imposter.

The drugs pumping through his system to keep him calm, to keep him feeling nothing was suddenly pierced through by an intense feeling of horror, hate and self-loathing.

He should've known it wasn't his family. He should've done more! More to protect them! To keep them safe! The could've still been alive if he just knew.

In that moment, watching imposters speaking, walking, talking, breathing, with his families faces. He exploded. Exploded with a power fueled by nothing but his intense hatred for every. Single. Living being in this goddamn facility.

He killed whoever stood in his way. Managing to get his hands on relatively newly designed weapon, an ectoplasmic scythe (that also apparently could revert into an everyday item). Which he used to rip and tear throughout the entirety of the facility. He got injured, of course, he couldn't dodge everything, but he didn't care.

A body stuck between life and death, incapable of fully going one way or the other no matter what happened. Gifted supernatural powers fueled by wrath and twisting hatred and a weapon made by man yet in the range of the supernatural.

They didn't stand a change. He killed them all. No matter who it was, man, woman, clone. He didn't, couldn't care. He could only kill, only maim, only hurt.

And that's what he did.

It was then, when the facility was blanketed with silence tainted by despair, death and hysteria. When previously white walls were covered by blood, and the halls turned into rivers of blood and corpses. That he broke down, the overwhelming hatred he felt replaced by relief then sadness then self-loathing.

His family didn't give him up! But they were killed. Kill because of him. He couldn't stand being in this place, anymore. His body felt as if it were moving on unseen strings as it walked through the halls, the scythe shrinking back what it was when out of combat, his mind too occupied by thoughts and feelings.

It walked through a portal, one to the ghost zone, and then promptly into another portal and spat him out into an alleyway. Which he then promptly collapsed and curled into a ball, curing the shrunken scythe in his palm and he was out like a light.

A few days after he woke up, he found himself growing attached to the human that found him in that alleyway. An old man, maybe, but a nice one. He didn't want to meet anyone, besides that man, so he turned invisible when anyone else come into contact with him.

Alfred Pennyworth.

It was a name he clung onto mentally and a man he clung onto physically as well. He wanted to be like that man, someone so nice and caring, someone who didn't mind that he turned invisible at the sing of another person, who let him cling onto him both invisible and not whenever he wanted to.

He did panic when he heard Alred saying his vacation was over, and such that he had to leave. He didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't know what he would do if he was left alone again.

Until Afred said we were going home.

We. As in, him plus another. Alfred plus Danny.

Home.

Heat blossomed in his chest, seeming to replace the constant, low hum of hate sitting beneath him skin.

Home.

[noagskryf]

"i wish i could unmask wherever i went." "i wish i was visibly disabled."

Okay, fine.

Do you also wish you were pulled out of class and asked if you've taken illegal substances because you weren't masking?

Do you wish you were just not allowed in class sometimes because of your symptoms being disruptive?

Do you wish parents would pull their children away from you because you walk funny and make weird noises?

Do you wish your parents got sympathy glances whenever youre out in public with them?

Do you wish all this? Or do you wish you were more accepted by society?

EDIT: i think im not very good at explaining myself, this post is targeted at people who say "i wish i was visibly disabled" and then go on to deny that visibly disabled people experience a lot of ableism and danger because of it. this isn't targeted at people who wish they didnt have to hide themselves.

[inpermanences]

Ford wandering around the shack gift shop in search of something, but ends up finding a singular Stanley plush propped up on a shelf. He picks it up, letting out a sound of appreciation at the stitched details. There’s a small tag attached to his foot that reads handle with care. The pine twins call out his name from the yard, so he stuffs it into his pocket and forgets about it for a few hours. It tumbles out his jacket pocket when he lands dramatically onto his bed. Ford snatches it from the floor and places it at the edge of the bed and removes everything but his boxers. He’s been pent up these past few weeks, too much of a coward to go out and find a suitable partner to fuck. Pushing the band of his underwear just enough to free his dick that lewdly slaps against his stomach, he grips his leaking cock and tries thrusting into his fist. It’s feels good — if he keeps this steady pace he’ll cum on his stomach and call it a night — but it’s not giving him the euphoria he needs. Thats when his eyes make the mistake of flickering over to the Stanley plush.

Stanley wakes up to the feeling of something rubbing against him. He lets out an irritated groan, muttering something about humping him like a bitch in heat, and attempts to smack what he assumed was someone sleeping besides him. His eyes snap open when he realizes there’s no one next to him. Stan yelps and tosses his sheets at the feeling of something pressing against his hole; but he’s still alone.

[goryhorroor]

on my knees in appreciation for my short haired horror girls