#and my job is more sedentary

[wetslug]

every month i go 'im gonna take control of my health and eat better and im gonna lose weight' and then it lasts approx 1 day before i give up . bc i dont ~really~ care that much and im not rlly motivated and theres never truly an ultimatum or strong motivating factor so its like 😭😭what will it take

[needsmustleap]

Do you create? What? Why?

mmmmm uh haha um. Sort of, sometimes.. I like drawing and stuff but I've been taking this course that has eaten up a lot of my free time so i haven't done any art stuff in a while. Should be all done with it really soon though so hopefully it won't be long before i can get back to it/a good routine. I had this whole art renaissance at the end of 2023/beg. 2024 where I just had this like epiphany re art and was super motivated and enjoying it, so hopefully i can back to that. But yeah I like the process of drawing. I mostly draw from observation, and i love how it gets me to really look at what I'm seeing and appreciate all the details. And i enjoy the puzzle of it, of figuring out how to represent the subject on the page. The epiphany i had was literally just basic art advice you hear everywhere lol but i had spent months in this rut of focusing on the outcome/end product of a drawing and getting really frustrated and upset with what i was doing. Eventually i like clawed myself to the realization that that was the problem and I need to make art solely for the love of the process. It's hard bc it's so easy to want to chase the feeling you get when you make something you're happy with, but I found i would start a drawing and want every line I put down to be immediately gorgeous, and i just a) don't have the skill for that and b) was putting so much energy into wanting it look good that I wasn't focusing on any of the principles or techniques that actually help build a drawing that looks good. Bad all around lol. But also, I can flip through that sketchbook and see evidence that i was learning things, even despite all that. So yeah. Generated a lot of motivation and good feelings.

Thank you for the qs! I wasn't expecting to actually receive any let alone so quickly haha but i love the opportunity to ramble :)

[transcendentalmaggot]

Work has been going well but I am so utterly exhausted I'm pretty much taking care of my base needs and collapsing into bed at night. Goodwill seems to exist for two reasons: for us to throw away your trash you either don't have the heart to or honestly believe the poor would be grateful for your garbage and the make middle class folks with more useless items than sense feel better about owning more than they could ever possibly have use for while convincing themselves they're generous people. But after all these years cooped up at home, I'd rather be dealing with difficult people than nobody at all as strange as that sounds.

I'm sorry, I've been in work mode so I'm bursting with disdain towards our current system, bad customer stories and the usual problems that come with retail. I found a half eaten hard-boiled egg, shell pieces scattered all through the bin, in one of our carts to clean up to give you a good idea (and that's the nicest story I can think of).

[viiridiangreen]

uh cw fatphobia ig lol

me: i got a stationary bike

my partner's parents each time we've met since incl at the family gathering. also the entirety of my social feeds outside this app: OH YOU HATE YOUR BODY? I HATED MY BODY TOO OMG!! YOU WANNA LOSE WEIGHT? YOU WANNA B U R N F A T???? RECIPES TO SLIM DOWN! THIS ROUTINE GOT ME SHREDDED IN A MONTH! BECOME UNRECOGNISABLE! SHRINK GET SMALL FUCKING DISAPPEAR <3

●_●

[canichangemyblogname]

I really need to be more active. I'm not talking resistance training or anything, but I really should do something. I don't move a whole lot, and that's not very good for me, health wise. But I neither have (make) the time nor have (make) the will to be more active. And I don't know how.

[orcelito]

the hilarious thing will be if me being back in school actually Improves my productivity with writing. bc i have so goddamn much free time rn, but what am i doing with it? fucking anime and crochet. i really do need to get my ass in gear for cleaning and also writing this reverse bang fic. but really. im probably going to be able to do more writing once im back in school

How, you may ask?

procrastination is a powerful drug.

[motheyes]

my hips hurt from sitting and laying. they’d hurt if i was walking more. they always hurt regardless

[rileyslibrary]

No, soldier, no.

Synopsis: You have been transferred to a British military base to work with Ghost on a new mission. As a non-native English speaker, you are not very keen on British slang/culture and need some time to pick up on things. Ghost tries to help you navigate through your language barriers and finds it rather amusing in the process. 

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,287

Notes: 

Dedicated to all the non-native English speakers like myself who are trying their best and to the native English-speaking friends who teach us without judgment.

I’m not good at writing combat and action scenes yet, so I gave them another sedentary job once again.

You voted fluff; I give you something similar—a cute crackfic.To those who voted angst, I’ll give it to you next time, promise.

WARNING: Swearing. Again.

Want more?

———————————————————————

“And this,” you point at the spread map on the table, “is the enemy’s safe house.”

He looks at the pinpoint with furrowed eyebrows, giving small and repeated nods. 

“Did we get clearance on what time to strike?” He asks, his eyes fixed on the mark as if he’s conversing with that little red pin. 

“No sir, not yet,” you reply, “the Captain will come shortly to brief us on that matter.”  

 He stands up straight. His focus is still fixed on the map, trailing with his eyes along the road you marked. “Who’s coming with us?” He asks.

“Captain left some files on your desk, sir,” you explain, “he said that we should go through them together and choose the right recruits for the job.”

“Together?” he turns at you with the same expression he was looking at the pinpoint.

“Yes, sir, together.” 

“I can do that on my own, soldier.”

“Of course, you can,” you say, “but this is a joint mission, and I get to have some saying as well, no?”

“No.” He states.

“No?”

“No.” He repeats. “I’ll lead them, so I’m the one who gets to choose the right people for my team,” he claims, walking to his desk to check on the new recruits’ files. 

You clear your throat. “And my side has to have a saying to that, sir.” You reply with as much authority as you can. 

He gives you a side eye, opens a file and begins to read, ignoring your statement. 

You knew he was difficult; they told you that much. Simon “Ghost” Riley likes to work alone, they said. And when you asked them what this so-called Ghost does when he’s on a joint mission with other forces, they replied with the same statement; that he’s being difficult. 

But you have worked with difficult people before. Most of them are like that in the force, especially regarding hierarchy. Little did he know that you had the upper hand in this situation. Difficult people hate having to deal with other difficult people.

“No problem,” you say, acting agreeable, “I just want to warn you that some of the people in those files are not very obedient and don’t like to be ordered around.”

“There’s no such thing in the army, soldier.”

“Oh, but there is, lieutenant,” you say, hiding a smile, “especially if they’re the Captain’s godson or the General’s nephew; they tend to slack a lot.”

“Fucking bastards,” he swears and rolls his eyes. He leaves the file before him and picks the rest of the pile, swearing profanities. He begins shuffling through the papers with eagerness. You speculate he’s trying to find the people you’re referring to. A sign that indicates a blood relation with the General, birth certificates, notes that specify who baptised who, perhaps. Of course, he can’t find anything, and he gives up. 

“Which of these fuckers are they?” he finally asks, throwing the papers on his desk.

“May I approach your desk to show you, Lieutenant?” You ask out of politeness.

“Oh, no, no need to do that, Y/N,” he replies sarcastically. He looks at the mess he created with the scattered papers, “just point them to me telepathically, and I’ll discard them.”

You stare at him, and he meets your gaze. You didn’t get any definite answer from him, so you are waiting for a clear answer, just like they taught you to do ever so obediently. Unfortunately, he misunderstands your stance.

“Please tell me you’re not actually trying to send me information via brainwaves, soldier,” he comments with a desperate tone.

“I was just waiting for an answer, Lieutenant.” You explain. 

He keeps staring at you before he lets another exhale and rubs his eyes. 

“Yes, Y/N,” he says, opening his arms wide, almost theatrically. “You may approach my desk and pinpoint those brats at me, just like you did with that checkmark before on the map.”

You nod and do as you are told. You sit opposite Ghost’s desk and start sorting out the messy papers. “Apologies, sir,” you say, “sometimes it’s tough to understand when you’re being sarcastic.”

He looks at you dumbfounded. “At what point did you think I wasn’t being sarcastic when referring to telepathy?” He asks.

“Well, it was between sarcastic or angry, sir,” you explain, looking embarrassed, “and I didn’t want to take my chances.” 

He rubs his forehead and stays still for a while. You peak at him from the corner of your eye; he looks like he’s calming down, contemplating. As if he’s reflecting on his actions.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, “I sometimes forget we have a language barrier.”

“And cultural.” You add.

“And cultural.” He agrees.

You both begin to collaborate on the recruits’ profiles. You discard the ones you know are not fit for the job (i.e. the ones that will clash with Ghost and his personality) and hand him the shortlisted ones. He begins muttering something about “CROW bags”, and you look at him like a puppy trying to understand the “sit” command. He patiently explains that “CROW bags” stand for “Combat Recruit Of War”, which, in the British army, is a soldier fresh out of training, a newbie, and therefore not fit for the job. When you ask him what the “bag” means, he shrugs and says he doesn’t know. You shortlist five profiles you’re both happy with and agree to wrap them up. You lean on the desk and stand up.

“Sir,” you say, still leaning on the table, “you need to change your desk.”

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks.

“It’s wanky, sir.”

You’ve never seen him turn with such force to look at you. He shakes his head vigorously like he’s forcing thoughts to travel from his brain to his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says, trying to suppress a laugh, “my desk is what?”

“Wanky,” you repeat with confidence, “all this time that we’ve been going back and forth with the files, the table was wanking.”

“The table was…” he leans back in his chair and covers his already concealed mouth with his gloved hand.

“…wanking, sir,” you complete his sentence, “here, look,” and proceed to shake the unsteady desk.

“You need to either get a new desk or screw this one better, sir.” You advise him, now examining the desk’s legs. He pinches his nose’s bridge and murmurs something like “table, you fucking wanker” under his breath before finally gathering the courage to explain.

“No, soldier, it’s not—“

But as he speaks, Captain Price interrupts your conversation and walks into the office. He looks at Ghost, who is almost teary-eyed from the suppressed laugh and then at you.

“What are you two up to?” He asks with a smile, holding his tactical vest with his thumbs in its pockets. Ghost gestures for him to stop talking.

“I was just telling the lieutenant—” you begin, but Ghost interrupts you.

“The table is wonky, or rather wobbly, and I need to tighten the bolts.” He says and gives you a meaningful look. Epiphany strikes you, and you widen your eyes.

Price shakes the desk and looks at you both. “Look at that,” he says, “you’re right, Y/N”, and shoots you one of his signature smiles, only to be met by the red hue that has spread across your face from embarrassment and eyes threatening to bolt from your head. You lower your head in response. Price moves his gaze from you to Ghost in confusion.

“We managed to shortlist a few, Capt,” he says to Price changing the conversation.

“Very well,” Price says. “Any good?”

“Yes,” you reply, “only the good ones—no CROW bars.”

“It’s bags, kid,” Ghost whispers, and Price chuckles slightly, “CROW bags.”

———————————————————————

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for breaking up with my boyfriend because he likes my body?

TW for ED but please hear me out:

My bf (30m) and I (28f) have been together for a little over 5 years. When we got together I had an extremely stressful and physically demanding job. Shortly after our relationship started I relapsed with an eating disorder that had been a problem since prepubescence; I started restricting heavily at age 11 and had struggled with it on/off since then.

After quitting that terrible job and regaining some agency in my life, I spent a couple of years really focused on recovery. Without giving specific numbers (cause triggering) I'll say that I was extremely underweight to an unhealthy level for at least a year and experienced severe health complications because of it. I nearly died from heart problems and had a big wakeup call that caused me to change my whole life. I've done the work of recovery without medical help (history of omission with doctors) but have had support from my bf, and am currently at the highest weight of my life.

at a recent checkup my Dr talked a lot about "healthy lifestyle" and mentioned my weight gain over the past couple of years. I'm still within the "normal" range for my height and build, but the after visit summary/chart notes denoted risk of becoming overweight. Idk if my Dr would have brought it up if my history of ED was in my chart, (and I did switch primary care practices a few years ago, so they weren't treating me at my thinnest) but it still shook me a bit and I will admit to feeling very triggered.

The job I moved to is quite sedentary compared to the previous terrible one - I wfh, and very rarely have to be on my feet or do strenuous activity. In addition, I have chronic pain issues that make exercise difficult, and so historically have just restricted to maintain/lose weight because it's easier for me physically to just be hungry than to work out. I didn't want to go down that road again though because of how intense and scary it got last time.

My bf is a personal trainer and specializes in working with low ability clients and people recovering from long illness/injury. When I told him that I wanted to start exercising more often and get a good cardio routine going, he was really excited and started immediately putting together an "action plan" (what he calls it w his clients idk) for me. Then he mentioned how I'd need to add on a bunch of meal supplements and snacks to avoid losing weight and I got upset.

We're a plant-based (vegan) household and live with a roommate (bf's friend) so mostly eat/cook communal dinners and have various breakfast & lunch plans on hand, so we already eat pretty healthy and make sure to have a good balance of macro/micro in the meal plan. My intent was to eat the same but increase my activity level to get out of the danger zone without restricting. I don't generally snack and rarely eat dessert, just the 3 squares.

I told my bf that I needed to lose weight and be more active according to my doctor, and that I wasn't comfortable with having protein supplements, smoothies, and snacks in addition to regular meals because that would defeat the purpose. He got really sad and said that he likes the way my body is now, and while he supports being more active, he doesn't want the size of me to change. His exact words at some point were "you look so good now, I love the amount of you that there is and I like the way you jiggle." It kind of made me feel sick and wonder if he has like a secret size fetish or something?

So I've been thinking of breaking things off with him and moving in with a friend or back in with my parents, but idk if this is actually a red flag or just the disorder talking? He did help me a lot with recovery but if he's going to keep me from being healthy or wants me to gain even more weight then maybe it's better to leave - would this be an asshole move? I honestly don't know.

[needsmustleap]

sending strength to rachel zegler bc the hate she's been getting is FUCKING wild jesus christ. the comments on her latest youtube video????? it's been wild to see them change as more ppl beyond her subscribers have watched it.... it's just so fucked

[arcan3-reliquary]

VERITAS RATIO HEADCANONS (because we need more content of him that's him-centric)

And because you guys asked. Most of these headcanons are purely based on my readings of him or have 0 basis in canon, so if you don’t like them, feel free to scroll past them!!

fighting the war on autism on the side of autism. As a neurodivergent he's very nd coded to me, especially with the fact that he's a very caring person but terrible with emotions and words. He's losing the idgaf war so badly like there's no way a neurotypical person has a temper that short over the most (seemingly) inane shit

Kind of pasty. not just like porcelain skin, like clay-sickly-victorian-boy type palor. He tries to go outside more often, but by the nature of his job he's rather sedentary and inside alooot. He's perfectly healthy, he just looks like that. Same complexion as Freminet in my head, with fewer freckles and a tooth gap he likes to deny he has.

Wears the alabaster headpiece not just to deal with idiots, but to self regulate out in public. It blocks out smells, and dampens sound and light enough for him to tolerate some of the veeery overstimulating environments he visits.

For a man that values creativity explicitly, not enough people seem to believe he’d have an interest in the arts. So I think he's into sculpting. A chisel and hammer are very comforting weights in his hand, and while he doesn't particularly care for pottery or wet clay, he gets why it's so well liked. He uses himself as reference mostly because he's most familiar with his own body and asking others can be awkward or seen as weird.

The dude has extremely obscure taste in sci-fi novels. Like he will yap on and on about why he can't stand most sci-fi and recommend the most odd shit out there if asked.

Not really a hc, but he has very brittle self-esteem. It simply comes with the territory of being labeled “gifted” or “a child genius.” For years, a lot of his perceived worth came from the quality of his work or academic validation, and now his big reason for staying in academics isn't the knowledge itself, but rather the joy of teaching and sharing the things he knows.

Somehow both touch starved and touch averse. Contact must be initiated by him on his terms, or a shutdown will happen. But when someone he trusts does this, it's the funniest thing because he thinks he's being so subtle about his enjoyment of it. (Aven played w his hair once and Veritas passed tf out like that and Aven couldn't move for an hour.)

Chronic over-explainer. Either he misreads someone's tone and thinks they need the detail, or past conflict was caused by him thinking he didn't explain enough (it was usually just people being purposefully obtuse or daft.)

Unsurprisingly terrible to deal with when sick. Non-verbal, sits under a mountain of weighted blankets, and only communicates via the notes app on his phone or having Aventurine help him.

Ratio is terribly farsighted - just genetics. Lasic surgery fixed most of it, but he still needs reading glasses and contacts.

Intimacy issues alert. Vulnerability is scary and being put on a pedestal your whole life tends to make letting down pretenses a lil nauseating. Mortifying ordeal of being known and all that.

Girl Anachronism by the Dresden Dolls makes me think of him. I can't explain it. I think it's a combo of him being hella self aware of his issues but also just kinda treating them like something of a character flaw or moral failing rather than something he can ask for help with. Just a thought

AND THATS ITS IVE YAPPED ENOUGH ABOUT RATIO. The Aveenturine and Golden Ratio posts will come soon but for now have these. He makes me insane.

[snapscube]

How rigorous can an exercise bike be? I'm looking into getting some kind of workout equipment, would the bike be worth it?

i mean for my PERSONAL needs, like just wanting to have some way to stay healthy and get my body the stamina and Extra Brain Chemicals it needs while i work a job that is heavily sedentary, it has been MORE than enough. i've been taking my time w it so i haven't even scratched the surface of the intensity i could eventually reach on this thing. but it really just depends on what u need out of ur own routine and you would know that a lot better than i do! i can give you anecdotal recommendation based on my own experience that my bike has genuinely improved my perspective on exercise and my willingness to participate in it, but that's all i can give you. i'd recommend doing a LOT more research and getting opinions from sources who actually know what theyre talking about before making a real purchase haha.

[roach-works]

hey roach, no answer needed, but i'd value your perspective. i was talking to a friend about gender, and we got stuck. he said that statistically men are more common in certain manual jobs due to physiological differences - differences that are important to acknowledge in the effort towards true equality. i said that men and women are more alike than not, and if we focus on the differences that's all we see. is there anything you'd add to this? i respect your opinion, is all. have a lovely day!

men are more common in certain manual jobs largely due to HISTORICAL AND PRESENT DAY DISCRIMINATION AND RAMPANT UNCHECKED SEXUAL ABUSE OF THE WOMEN THAT DO SHOW UP.

like, yes, there's certainly a lot of women's jobs that don't involve manual labor, and arguably a lot of women work jobs that don't involve manual labor. but like so do finance jobs, programming, engineering, trucking, data entry, being a fucking CEO? which are male dominated, but are mostly done sitting down.

there's a lot of jobs thought of as feminine, like nursing and waitressing, that involve hauling ass all fucking day, and this is not thought of as hard manual labor, because women do them. similarly, keeping house? cooking, cleaning, caring for children, getting groceries, running errands: these are not sedentary tasks for weak little ladies. this is exercise.

it's like the low pay. women don't take low paying jobs. women are paid less than men, regardless of the job they take. women don't take 'easy' jobs that 'aren't physical'. they're considered to have easy, non-physical jobs because they are seen as weak.

i gained a lot of weight and muscle going into welding, because HRT made it faster and easier for me to get the benefit of the strength training i was deliberately putting myself through. if i had stayed a girl, i would still have become just as strong. it would simply have taken me longer. even now, five or six years in, i don't have the skeletal build for pronounced upper body strength, but i have the ass of a dump truck, and the thighs of two more dump trucks. i can lift whatever i need as long as i can use core strength to heft it, no manly biceps necessary. there's no reason i couldn't be doing the same thing as a woman. one of my friends who is a nurse hauls people around all day and they can pick ME up without trying and they've never done T at all.

tl;dr: women are seen as weak and therefore their jobs are seen as easy. neither perception is actually true.

[ntls-24722]

Hey so... Have you thought much about how disability is treated in your various societies? Like with the Debus and stuff? I've been thinking about it for a little bit and got curious 👀

Yes actually!

For disabilities involving mobility, I had sketched out some really clunky ideas for a Debu crutch and some accessibility for their mountain cave-dwellings awhile ago, so I revamped them! The crutch was specifically made for the situation where, say you have an arm compromised, but it's an inconvenient arm like a back or front arm that's mostly tasked for stability, so your balance is off. So there would be a crutch/walker for that, where you could bring support to the back or front and balance yourself better. And for their cliff dwellings, there could be these adobe-rock torons to help climb up with your arms and your mouth. Ideally, a settlement would have terraces up to your residents, but that takes awhile, so torons and pulleys could be an option. (I got inspired by the Great Mosque of Djenne for the torons)

Then there's wheelchairs!

So, just a disclaimer, some of these wheelchair designs might not be around at the time that homo mousike is set in, homo mousike is set around when history just began and as you can imagine, technology isn't really that far yet (the first self-propelled wheelchair was invented 1655)

The bottom design was my first design before i realized, "hey, don't... dogs... have wheelchairs... why don't I just do it like that." The first/top design was my second try which eliminates most of the problems with the first, the main one being: Debu are really goddamn heavy. REALLY heavy. So heavy, in fact, that they can't actually lay down for long periods of time, because their own weight will cut off their blood circulation and get pressure wounds. It's why Debu caves are filled to the brim with bedding so they can lay down for longer - and why my first try at a debu wheelchair was less a wheelchair but a bed on wheels. I guess it's still viable and its design feels/looks more vintage to the point I think that this might become the OG Debu wheelchair that would've been present around now.

Then there's blindness and deafness. Blindness is actually much better to have in Debu society??? Debu are actually not that great at seeing in the first place - their eyes are uniquely sensitive to color, but not to sharpness. And besides, Debu dwellings are in complete darkness except for one room. And because of the fact they live in complete darkness, Debu are historically inclined towards tactile language rather than sign language, which is a mode that deaf and non-deaf individuals alike usually communicate through. Written language is actually equally tactile in some cultures, with valley debu writing stories with beads that can be read by being felt, or read "aloud" by dragging the hoof across the text.

I also find it cool that alphabet letters are physical objects so you can go and buy a bunch of A beads. Defeated teacher at the store, buying a lot of C's and D's after a spelling test

Now onto zebramen.

When it comes to mobile disabilities, interestingly... you'd have a lot less problems in zebraman society out of all of them, which is ironic considering they're constantly on the run.

Before I go into that, I have to describe zebraman society: Instead of civilization forming once populations began to settle down into one place permanently and grow their food, zebraman civilization began when they left sedentary settlements to herd animals, leaving behind the seeds of swaths of crops months in advance in order to harvest them during circular trips around their massive, plains territories. Zebramen are similar to humans where they're able to run for very long periods of time, and they use this less to be persistence hunters but to guide their massive herds along "crop stops" that both they and their herd gather and eat from. They do run along their herds on foot, but those are generally zebramen with the specific job for doing so.

When it comes to the rest of zebramen, they practically live in their carriages, drawn by cloe-mena. They're not particularly fast, but they're really damn strong. As a mountain cow, they were originally built for hoisting themselves up mountains and are perfect picks for drawing carriages for one or two zebramen - or a massive brigade carrying an entire community.

That is all to say that since zebramen spend most of their time riding in their carriages, not being able to walk isn't too much of a damper. Zebramen are, still currently in their ancient Sumer-adjacent technological era though, so they might instead have a wheelbarrow, or smaller wagon with a service animal that they ride instead of a wheelchair since those might still not be widely made/widely available. There may be a cultural result to this where people in wheelchairs are seen as wise and down to earth, the same way we see people with glasses as smart, since they'd have a closer relationship with animals, which is a big ideal in zebramen.

But in the future, Zebramen's wheelchairs would end up looking really similar to ours, except there's more footrests in the front to accommodate their frontmost and middle legs, a cutout in the back to rest the back legs, and the lack of an armrest. Zebrapeople naturally keep their arms in a mantis posture, so having an armrest would just get in the way of trying to propel themselves.

Zebrapeople have generally the same crutches as us, too.

Zebrapeople are inclined towards sign since they're more visually oriented than Debu, so that's another similarity between us, but also because their fingers are stupid flexible and weird freaky cool signs are able to be made. Zebrapeople have the benefit of their sign languages being less species-exclusive between them, since zebraelves and zebramen have the same hands and much of the same languages, they get to share the same sign languages.

Zebrapeople do struggle with written language for the blind though, since paper's a very recent and very popular invention that has yet to find itself a widely used tactile way to read its text. The ones currently around similar to moon type where letters are instead raised curves and angled lines.

So onto what zebraelves have different for mobility impairments!

So, the zebraelf wheelchair might be a little different. Their butts are at an angle, which is why they can seamlessly go from octopodal to hexapodal, so they sit as if they're leaned forward. And that gave me an idea because this was the first self-propelled wheelchair invented by Stephan Farffler when he was 22 and this fucks severely.

That's COOL. This is COOL. And it's the same principle that bikes were improved with, so thank him, every cyclist ever

But, I kind of get why this didn't completely stick around. You kind of have to reach forward for this, which you might not be able to do. You see where I'm going with this?

Zebraelves live in trees though, carts like this are primarily for walking on ground. Yet, I would argue this only makes things better for disabled zebraelves because zebraelves are also really good at living in trees.

Their bodies are small and compact, and their bodies are adapted for both walking and swinging/generally hanging on and across branches. Having monkey bars on just about everything is used by everyone. Even if you're without the use of arms, your legs are morphologically the same as your arms, and you're free to use those, too. When you can't use either, there's still pulley systems to help you to get places.

And to answer your other ask, happy disability pride month!

[roller6262]

Hey! Skinny white guy here wishing I was something more exciting!

I can sense you've been touched by the power of many transformations before, perhaps you are a master of transformation as well? Usually I'd be wary of using my power on those like you, in case it rebounded on me, but this request is too tempting to pass. Fine, I'll make you more interesting. You're sitting at home when to hear loud rock coming from outside. You open your front door to find yourself in a suburban neighborhood with a young South Asian man sitting on your doorstep with a speaker.

You want to ask him what he's doing here, but after noticing some angry glares from your neighbors, you think it's best to tell him to turn the music down first. "Turn it down?" He scoffs, "Man, you're the one always saying to turn it up. Listen to this!" He grabs you by the ear and pulls you closer to the speaker, as if standing across the street wouldn't still be a fine distance to hear the track. You curse when you feel a sharp pain where he grabbed your earlobe, but as the sound reverberates through your skull you find that pain turning to pleasure.

You nod your head to the booming drums as your ear lobes grow, craving more of that sound, then filling with large gauges. You tell him he's right, shit this good deserves to be played at max volume. "Hell yeah, especially when it speaks to taking down a broken system. That's what it's like for brown men in a white man's world." You're confused, is brown men referring to you too? You feel your body electrified like a guitar, your body warming up and your skin darkening in turn. Your hair stands on end until the blackened strands curl into a mess much like the man's, though you like your streaked red and sides shaved. You grin, looking at your fellow south asian with your deep brown eyes in newfound familiarity. You can't help but agree that there's nothing more punk than an immigrant.

After a few minutes of listening, your neighbor's annoyed stares become more obvious to both of you. "Man let's ditch these posers. Is it cool if I take this to Zayne's house?" You get excited, recognizing the name of another punk who lives a few blocks down. You agree, noting you're excited to listen there too. "What?" he chuckles, "no offense Man, but I don't think Zayne invites anyone your age to rock out." You wonder what he means by age before looking down at your arms, ever hairier than before. You think you're seeing things, adjusting your glasses out of habit without realizing you weren't wearing any before. Your facial scruff becoming a thick beard. Your clothes turning into a brown polo tucked into white khakis, baggy at first but stretched tighter as your time as a slim youth grows distant from years in a sedentary desk job. Your adjust your polo, trying to give your moobs more room while they jiggle along with your gut to the speaker. Despite your new clothes, you're still a punk in spirit, but a man needs to dress a certain way to work when he's got bills to pay.

you look at the man, now recognizing him as your son. You're a bit sad he keeps calling you "Man" instead of Dad, but a part of you swells with pride as a sign he's inherited some of the anti-authority spirit you grew up with. You sigh, allowing him to go rock out with his friend, but reminding him to come home before dinner and hoping you can jam with him after too.

"Ah kids" I say, stepping out of the house next to yours, looking like a typical suburban man "no matter how cool you are, they always choose their friends." You laugh deeply, clutching on to the bouncing polo that threatens to untuck from your khakis and reveal the furry carpet below. You say your son is probably just going through a rebellious phase. I laugh in kind, "With a rebel dad like you, I'm sure 'rebellious phase' is an understatement!" I'm unsure if you recognize me, or the request you made to me, but I am sure that this life is at the very least more exciting!

[helixobesity]

So, I gained a significant amount of weight, to the point of going from about average to what I'd call properly fat. I then discovered this kink, and have decided to actively try to gain some more. I think the most attractive part to me is the restrictions: the fatter I get, the less fit I am and the less I can physically do, the more sedentary and lazy I get, and the more "dumbed down" I can be, all in a self-reinforcing cycle. I get a secret thrill about outgrowing clothes, or realizing I'm never going to run a 5k again, or exceeding the weight limit of my office chair, or realizing that hours have gone by watching mindless shows.

I work a high-stress, long-hours job, and the permission to let go, eat, laze around, and fatten up in a way that actually makes it physically and mentally harder to keep stressing myself out so much is such a release. Embracing my piggy side and letting go of the expectations has been a genuine source of self-care.

But it's hard to do sometimes! The doubts can creep in; even if this fatter, slower me is happier, it's still hard to make the leap. So my question is, do you have any tips, any reminders or mantras or practices, for aspiring fatties to use, to remind me that it's ok to let go? Any ways I can reward myself for embracing the pig life? Thanks (and sorry for the essay)!

In the most basic of ways, letting go is the greatest way to get fatter

“Letting go”

To stop worrying about how you used to act

How you used to be considered athletic

How you could’ve been celebrated for your intelligence

But letting go means forgetting who you used to be

The acceptance that you were meant to be fat

To be lazy

To heave around the house

Waddling like a pig

Each step making you out of breath on your way to the fridge a hollow reminder of the miles you used to run in a few hours

Now? Piggy you wouldn’t be able to last a mile in your condition

Doubts are normal! Feedism isn’t a kink you can just forget about

A heavy, wobbly belly following your every move is a reminder of the life you’re committing to

And every time it growls to be fed, you can’t help but realize how it’s totally corrupted your way of life

Try not to worry about numbers, the scale going up, calorie counting, sure it can seriously be a big help, especially those that struggle to stay focused. But I know it can be demoralizing to others to see the scale fluctuating day to day, but there’s no avoiding that

What matters is your mentality

To look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself

You’re beautiful this way

To jiggle your fatter belly

Grab your new rolls

Your thicker arms

Thighs that are beginning to rub together

A butt that can’t be forced into those skinny jeans anymore

And tell yourself you’re beautiful

And with every day you gorge yourself to feeling like you could burst

You look more beautiful

And every time you do happen to look at that scale

You’ll be shocked at how fast you’ve really been gaining

You don’t need to think

You need to eat

You have me to keep you in check

To make sure you forget who you used to be

Let go

And get fatter

You’re certainly on the right path piggy~

And I absolutely look forward to your progress!!!

Thank you very much for the “essay” :)

🌀💿🌀💿🌀💿🌀