#user style

[qiwipanini]

this probably alerady exists but i learned how to make a user style that removes badges next to urls out of spite i got so so tired of looking at them lol

[ailurinae]

I was gonna reply to your post, but you have replies restricted. So here's an ask with a link. That should fill the void Dashboard Unfucker left.

Thank you!

[lotus-pear]

SIGHHHH BSD REREAD…................I MISS THEM SO MUCH :(((

[therekinperson]

Ive been thinking about this trend but instead of metaphorical items and junk its just me attempting diff artstyles

(btw thanks for @desklamper for compiling this) (Artists: @bamsara @runningwithscizzorz @konjkitkatty @donutfloats @acis-arts @aveloka-draws @lambment @unwri-ten @stychu-stych @dogiperson + me at the end)

[hinamie]

sometimes u just gotta. mini itfs. to cope.

[alex2xander]

Be nice and don't mock tumblr users that communicate differently.

Examples:

1.) Typing quirks

2.) No punctuation

3.) Random Capitalisation

4.) Long run on sentences

5.) Frequently misspelled words

6.) Missing spaces between words

7.) Repeating words and sentences

8.) Posts audios and videos instead of typing

9.) Express themselves through custom emojis

10.) Use an AAC (Augmentative and alternative communication) device

Some users have intellectual disabilities, use speech to text, struggle with grammar, have hand tremmers, have high support needs, etc.

Regardless of how they communicate and their reason why, they still deserve respect. They are trying their best.

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[fauvester]

something something seeing things through different eyes

[nixxsmokeweed]

I made a new backpatch for my wheelchair. The first picture is the new one and the second is the old.

I made this new one with velcro which attaches much cleaner to the chair. That way, you can actually see all the patches.

I find these backpatches are much better than a traditional battle jacket for me. As Battle jackets get really heavy, which makes it harder to push myself. This way I can still participate.

If you make one I would love to see!

[rookieluck]

for this guy 😐🤨😶😳

[kidovna]

been thinking about this artwork a lot lately so i finished up this piece i started in february 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

[bianxiee-arts]

What It Takes To Become A Symbol

[ailurinae]

this is another dashboard unfucker: https://www.tumblr.com/pixiel/723402150351437824?source=share

Thanks!

[originalartblog]

Remember when I pitched the concept of Chuuya developing a fear of lightning/electricity after the events of Storm Bringer and the Dragon's Head Conflict?

Thunder doesn't bother him, he deals with loud noises on the daily. No, it's the lightning itself that gets to him.

So obviously the solution is to close his eyes and wait for the storm to pass while berating himself because he should be better than this.

[gossippool]

it's after their first mission together that wade and logan share their first kiss.

the fight leading up to the time ripper took place right outside their apartment with barely any witnesses around, so the journey back home was short and quiet with no prying eyes. after that, it took a while for logan to get out of the house on the regular, but when he eventually did, it was just to walk or carry out errands, and in civilian clothes, he blended in with everyone else. it's different when they get called on a mission for the first time.

it's not a hard mission by any means, but it's brutal. he and wade subdue a dozen men on the streets, chase a final one down to the underground, and turn him over to the police. by the end of it all, the sun is going down, and people are travelling home from work. logan's suit is torn, and his bare arms are caked with dirt and dried blood.

a cab would be the typical mode of transport for them after a mission, but they're already at the station, anyway, so they decide to take the train. a busker sings at the platform with a guitar, a lulling, bittersweet thing, like the soundtrack to a life not deserving of such a melody. in the exhaustion and setting sun, it makes logan long for something he can't name. but they'll be home soon.

they board the train. he leans against one of the poles, feels the cool of the metal seep through his suit and into his spine. the music fades out, and what fades in in its place is the conversation and laughter of the others in the train car. a group of teenagers out having fun, businessmen in suits off work, older people with their grandkids or their shopping bags. wade's warmth opposite him, mask moving as he chatters.

he tries to listen, he really does, but as the train speeds through the tunnel, he feels stares turn slowly towards him from all sides. he smells their slight fear, their judgement, over the odour of him and wade. he realises all at once what he must look like, dirty and covered in blood that can't be his for his lack of open wounds. his exposed knuckles a darker red than the rest of his hands. he covers one hand with the other, unclenches his fists.

he's not one to care about what others think. not before, at least. he's used to glares of resentment and pity for what he did, eyes following him everywhere he went like the phantoms of those he killed. but these people don't know what he's done, and they stare at him all the same. it's almost worse.

for a brief moment, just a moment, he feels a stab of hopelessness. coming to this world felt like a second chance, a chance to start over without the world having to bear the knowledge of his inadequacies. but what if that isn't possible? what if this is all this world ever sees of him? the aftermath, the bloodstained hands, the aged lines of his face that tell them what they want to know. he's no one here, except when people remember him like this.

"peanut?"

wade's voice snaps him out of it, and when he looks up, wade has pulled his mask off. he's about to apologise for not listening when wade smiles slightly at him. it's enough to take the words out of his mouth. wade doesn't ask if logan's okay, but his eyes flicker almost imperceptibly over the other occupants of the train car. then he places a delicate hand on logan's waist and steps closer to him, until he can feel his breath ghosting his lips.

logan just looks up at him, breath caught in his throat. what? he thinks of asking. he doesn't.

wade's other hand trails up to cup his cheek. "let them stare," he says. "they don't know anything."

then he leans down and presses his lips to logan's. the train emerges out of the tunnel and bathes the car in golden light, and all the rest of it fades away.

wade steps back eventually, and logan wants to chase his lips, but instead watches as the shadows of his scars dance across his face with the path of the dying sun. he's so beautiful, logan thinks. he's home.

wade is right; let them stare. all he wants is to find his way home, just like everyone else. that's all anyone wants. and they're all on the same train home.

[tickletails]

erm