#functioning is hard

[mynameisakissi]

[twosomeofcuteness]

The wonders of taking my meds three days in a row: productivity has increased, and just generally I feel more okay today than I have in over a week so :)

[unsung-idiot]

way to ruin the mood

[moonlight1caladium]

man, does anyone else find literally doing anything is extremely hard, even getting out of bed or socializing even if it's online?

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.

[fictionadventurer]

How did Treasure Planet manage to come up with the greatest aesthetic in all human history? Victorian elegance plus space-age flair, with just enough dirt and grime and wear and tear to make it feel real? A combination of traditional and computer animation that perfectly embodies the movie's blend of old and futuristic? How does it get any better than that?

[transgendz]

Emergency Commissions

One of my checks was a couple of days late last week, and the more lucrative of my 2 proper jobs has given me only one day of work this week (seems to be system issue?? I'm waiting for a reply from my higher up, there seems to be a queue of sorts) I have no idea when I'm going to get my check this week, either. Although it's supposed to come in on Tuesdays, I have heard from coworkers it is likely to be delayed again. On top of all of this, I have had wifi issues for a week, and I work from home.

I was already going to have to do some commissions to make rent this month before the reduced work hours and wifi issues. I have to pay rent on Saturday, and I do not get a grace period. I cannot emphasize how screwed me, and both of my disabled roommates are if my check doesn't come in on time, which is apparently not likely to happen.

I am setting this goal for $600 which is how much I am going to need for rent if my check does not go through in time. I will update this post accordingly, and turn off rbs if I get my check before rent is due, but tbh if i thought that was happening I wouldn't be making this post.

Anyone who help with this can contact me at my art blog @theartistrans for art like you see above. There may be a bit of a wait because I have 2 jobs and this, but I will mail you the piece if you pay the shipping also.

Dm me for proof or more details. More details are also in my tags.

$C V PP Kofi

[izzystizzys]

TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog

“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”

High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”

Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.

Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.

“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”

“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.

High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.

Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”

“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”

“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.

“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.

He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-

Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.

Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.

Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!

And catch him, High General Windu sure did.

“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”

“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.

“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”

“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.

Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”

[psqqa]

yes, yes i know edgeworth’s big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated us all, but listen. listen.

phoenix wright

phoenix “genuinely unable to reconcile the girl on the stand with the girl he dated for eight months, a cognitive dissonance so profound it’s ultimately explained by them being literally two different people, but which he first sits with for five years and does not talk about at any point to anyone” wright

phoenix “don’t mention that name to me. i don’t want to talk about it. i don’t want to think about it. i am just going to keep myself in this state of perpetual crisis mode focus on other people���s problems until eventually i die and get to hang out with mia on the astral plane and never have to deal with any of these emotions ever again” wright

phoenix “overnight loses his career and reputation and sense of identity while gaining an adopted, probably pretty traumatized eight-year-old daughter, and rather than leaning on his friends for help, or getting therapy, or taking any time to process any of this, he *checks notes* spends seven years dedicating all his free time and energy to investigating the weird fucking circumstances around it and maintains a friendship with the guy he suspects was behind it all” wright

phoenix "runs across a burning bridge and falls through it, half a day after the game establishes that he is terrified of heights, because his friend is on the other side of that bridge" wright

phoenix “i sure felt surprised. maybe i had my poker face on” wright

phoenix “looking back on it that was actually a pretty dark period in my life” wright

phoenix “don’t ask me how i got started. i don’t remember” wright

phoenix “only you stood still, your eyes calmly watching” wright

phoenix “sometimes, life just sucks” wright

just

phoenix wright

crunchiest man in the world

and all i wanna do is chew and chew and chew on him

[bruciemilf]

I wonder how many times Clark and the batkids + Alfred revived Bruce with the Lazarus Pit and just never told him abt it

[naamahdarling]

You know what? You know what I think?

I think that if we lived as we were meant to, in larger intimate ("extended family") groups and with more shared labor and time to do it (UBI NOW) people like me would not feel so useless and burdensome because there would be people around to help and to do what neurodivergent people can't while making valuable space for the neurodivergent to do what they ARE good at.

The way we live right now, all right, the way we live right now forces units of two adults to be able to do EVERYTHING or PAY to have someone come do it for them. I have to do the housework. I have to do it! But I am having to do a million different things and most of them I am not good at. I suck at them.

I wouldn't feel like shit, okay, if I had more than one other person around who was not a child and who could do the things I can't, like do the yard and cook and do repairs and basic maintenance; and someone else to split everything else that I like but is too much for me. It would free me to do what I am good at and enjoy. Cleaning, as in the sink and toilet, the windows, the blinds. Taking out trash. Folding, hanging, and sorting laundry.

But because all the shit I can do often relies on other shit being done first, and I can't do or have trouble doing those things, the shit I can do often can't be done. And even the shit I can do, I can't do ALL of it. So I can't keep up, and things get very bad.

We aren't meant to live like this. We are not meant to live like this.

That thought hurts so much because being able to flee the birth family is integral to survival for so many people. I'm so afraid that living in larger family groups would create more opportunities for, say, queer kids to be isolated, rejected, bullied, and abused. But if we gave people enough money to survive, and stopped considering children the property of their parents with no system in place to help them escape bad situations except a system that is often just as bad, just different.

I'm aware that communes and collectives aren't all that successful and are kind of a joke. I don't mean that. I mean a fundamental shift to multigenerational families where taking in "strays" (which my family did) is also normalized so people escaping abuse into existing households was accepted, with these families centered in maybe a couple of different larger residences so not everyone has to buy and maintain their own fucking washing machine and vacuum cleaner, and so people can benefit from large group meals that yield leftovers, and so child and elder care can also be centralized.

Then disabled people and the neurodivergent and sick and injured people, and pregnant people, and grieving people, would not have to either labor through all those stressors or consign themselves to living off an unlivable pittance or being put under legal guardianship.

I'm not saying anything new. People live like this in other parts of the world and maybe it sucks and I am wrong. But I'm just really mad right now because I can either do laundry or clean the sink but not both, and I really think we could improve society somewhat by making it so I did not have to choose one without sacrificing the other.

[rad-roche]

i though it would be fun to try my hand at drawing the new ghoul cowboy character from the tv show with a retro twist! a little more in line with the older fallout style, just for fun, though this is a mishmash between a bunch of different ghoul design elements from 1 - 4. the mouth split and eye cover is pretty old school, but his facial features are more modern

i was thinking of fun ways to make him emote. eventually i landed on this, keeping his bottom lip and having the skin split as a body language supplement!

[oneday-yourside]

Being released into the wild after a lifetime in captivity

[grzybjek]

recent sketches!!

The first pic are redesigns of my 2019-2021 ocs! If you remember any of these characters no you dont! Embarrassing. Second is Maria, Marysia, my beloved protagonist for my newest project. Third is Helena my favorite rat. And fourth is Maria once again, with her friend, Juras, also a character from my newest project

[writingfreezer]

you had been curious about his horns and tail, and dan heng was kind enough to let you touch them. what he didn’t anticipate was how intense the whole situation was about to become.

as your fingers delicately gracing his tail had slowly moved up to his base, his self-control had faltered with it. even though his tail was made out of mostly water, you somehow had found a way to squeeze around it to make dan heng shiver from the contact. you could see how he was biting his lower lip in order to keep the slutty moans that wanted to spill from his mouth to himself.

”does this feel good, babe?” you asked, voice sultry. your inner cheek was almost bleeding with how much you had bitten it in order to keep yourself from smirking at the sight in front of you. dan heng, the usually composed and quick-witted member of the astral express, had been reduced down to a pleading mess.

dan heng opened his mouth to speak but right before he was about to respond, your fingers curled and started scratching the base of his tail. the action made his back arch and he let out a high gasp that soon turned into a drawn-out moan. his eyes lulled to the back of his head and he flooped his head down on your shoulder.

panting, he tried to speak in his usual tone, ”plea- hah…. please, just, um… c-continue, please….” was all he could muster. the absolute desperation in his voice made a shiver run up your spine, and now both of you were biting your lips.

”oh? you like getting touched like this?” the answer was obvious enough that dan heng just settled for letting out a series of quiet moans. his forehead was still planted to your shoulder as he panted, and you snaked your free arm up to pull him close. he quickly pulled you into an embrace, snaking his tail around your waist, earning a soft chuckle out of you. his grip was tight, but not hurting. just perfect.

slowly, your hand left his back in favor of finding purchase at the hem of his pants. you tugged gently at it, giving him a warning, before diving your fingers under the fabric.

dan heng gasped and whimpered at what was to come. his hand moved down to hold your wrist as your fingers moved down, and more down, until you found the hem of his underwear. your scratching increased in pressure as your fingers dived under the next layer of fabric to meet his warm skin.

”please, be ge-” dan heng was cut off by a deep moan as your hand grabbed his cock and started pumping it without warning. this, combined with the scratching, made dan heng louder than he ever has been. it was a surprise no one on the express came barging in.

”i am gentle, now hush. let me take care of you…” you cooed softly into his ear as your pace on his hard appendage quickened. dan heng’s moans increased in pitch and his back arched into your chest, his grip on you tightening as much as he could. you could even feel his tail squeezing your waist, but that was irrelevant now.

as the vidyadhara in front of you continued to moan and plead, you couldn’t help but smirk. seeing dan heng so submissive kindled something inside of you, something that had never been kindled before in the span of your relationship. perhaps you should do this more often.

[nonpoppie]

played the space train anime game . guess who i fixated on