#wishful thinking on that last point

[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.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[buppkizz]

engie birthday pt 2...a gift from spy

[bunnieswithknives]

How much can you fit under your skin?

For @warning-heckboop's AU :3

[skymantle]

glados saying "once testing starts, im required by protocol to keep interaction with you to a minimum. this will be our only chance to talk." during the beginning of portal 2 only to immediately talk to chell during every single test is funny on its own but that along with the cut scene where she stops the elevator between tests to ask if there's "anything you'd like to say to me? anything at all?"...she's so lonely and desperate </3

[bumfuzzled-bee]

! Eight !

[formulanni]

Lance Stroll as the Nine of Cups:

An environment of luxury and emotional stability, where all available comforts await you. Indulging in all the joys that life has to offer you is signaled by this card, though at times there is a sense of smugness that comes from taking your situation for granted.

This card also symbolizes having your wish fulfilled. Achieving what you desire. Obtaining your goal. Getting what you think you want.

The nine of cups is directly related to the Hermit, card 9 of the Major Arcana. It therefore has an element of solitude about it. It's a card of emotional happiness and fulfilment which is enjoyed alone.

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls

[homewrecking-lore]

The thing about the fandom’s interpretation of Data and Pulaski is that it makes both characters extremely flat and boring while also erasing their whole relationship. Data’s made into this flawless, naive baby that can’t defend himself (when he does - when Pulaski mispronounces his name, he tells her exactly why she should pronounce it correctly), while Pulaski is an ugly bitch-hag who is morally reprehensible. Most fanfics portray Data as being uncomfortable or scared of her, while Pulaski’s chomping at the bit to break him into parts. Their whole relationship in season two is based around the fact they both have flaws, and that Data is still learning about what exactly he is capable of as an android.

In “Elementary, My Dear Data”, the big question of the episode is if Data can solve a narrative mystery without it being based on his knowledge of the original stories. Geordi doesn’t know the answer. Pulaski doesn’t. Data doesn’t. From what they know of Data, Pulaski outright dismisses the possibility that Data can, which sparks the episode’s plot.

So when Geordi goes back later and prompts the computer to alter the program to be more challenging, both Data and Pulaski are excited! They want to see where this goes! They are openly having fun with this.

In her first episode, Pulaski dismissed Data when he tried to stay during Troi’s labour, and only relented when Troi said she wanted him there. But by “Penpals”, she assures Sarjenka that Data will be at her side the whole time. When Data expresses doubts, she assures him that this is what’s best for Sarjenka, but that his memories of her will still be important. This is also the same episode where Pulaski defends both her and Data’s personal involvement in the situation to Worf.

In “Measure of A Man”, the game opens with some of the crew playing a poker game. Data and Pulaski are obviously friendly and comfortable enough to socialize together outside of professional circumstances. And again, the scene shows Data calling the game simplistic and assuming he will win, but he turns out to be wrong.

Later in “Peak Performance”, Pulaski sets up Data to compete in Strategema, only for him to end up losing, to everyone’s surprise. The reason why Data’s confidence falls is because he had the exact same assumption about his computational abilities as Pulaski. They were both wrong! When she sees how much losing has affected him, she apologizes:

Data says that he must be malfunctioning. It’s not until Picard tells him that failure can happen even when you do everything right that Data accepts he can make mistakes - and that making mistakes is okay! By the end of the episode, they both know that Data is not infallible, and that he can be affected by failure as much as any human.

Pulaski makes assumptions and mistakes, and so does Data. They learn and grow from them, and their relationship is overall a very positive one despite their very different personalities. It’s an interesting dynamic that gets rewritten by fans entirely, despite the fact that it’s weirdly one of the more developed dynamics in the show.

[lunarin64art]

That feeling when he can't stand to see you that way, no matter what you do, no matter what you say😩😭💔

[randomminty]

Yeahlow

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[eshithepetty]

So.

This is it, mobsters.... our final stand. When the poll starts on @autismswagsummit, go....... do your part.

[Short ID: a comic pertaining to the autism swag summit, featuring Mob and Tome. Mob reveals that he feels insecure about how seriously everyone's been taking this, and how he's not sure he likes all this attention on him for it, but Tome argues and encourages him, saying that his could help him get Tsubomi's attention, since she's autistic herself, and might appreciate Mob being more confident about that. In the end, Mob brightens up, and gets pumped to win the bracket, before it's revealed that Tsubomi actually hopes Papyrus wins. End short ID]

Extended ID under cut:

[ID: a comic pertaining to the autism swag summit, featuring Mob and Tome. It's done in pink and orange tones, except for the last panel, which is purple.

First page: Mob sits down at the table in the telepathy club room, sighing. Tome, who is playing a video game and eating fries, looks at him and asks: "? What's wrong, Mob?" Mob looks to the side, eyes downcast, and says: "It's nothing really... it's just- the autism contest thing. Everyone's taking it so seriously but- idk. It feels weird. Like Mezato-san's cult thing, kinda." Tome, meanwhile, slides him the fries, and he takes one, and continues, "I don't think I like all this attention on me. Not for this." and Tome looks at him, chin on hand, and asks: "But wasn't that like, one of your main goals? To be popular?"

Second page: at this, Mob startles, and in the next panel he shrinks in as he replies "um- yeah, but. To be honest, I only wanted that to-" and shrinks even further in the next, blushing, trailing off with "to..." Behind him, there is the tapping of footsteps as Tome, off screen, rounds the desk, and makes Mob jump with a loud SLAM, and yells "LISTEN, MOB!" Then, she is looking at him with a frown, gesturing with one hand, and continues: "You need to look at this from a different perspective. What if this is the contest that winning would aid you the most? After all, isn't Takane herself autistic?" Mob, eyes wide and blushing, loudly interrupts with "S-SHE IS??"

Third page: Mob asks, "How do you know??" Tome, her arms crossed, eyes closed and a smirk on her face, says "Look. I'm autistic. You're autistic. We're ALL autistic, I know my kin, alright?" Under her breath, (under the speech bubble) she also adds "Plus I kind of heard her say "Leave me alone, I'm autistic" once," before she interrupts herself, her arms spread wide and flapping, with "but that's beside the point!" She continues in the next panel, only one of her moving hands visible as Mob looks up at her, wide-eyed, "My point is, maybe this is your chance to show her what you're all about; that you know who you are; are secure in your identity, proud of it, even!"

Fourth page: Tome crosses her arms again, a confident smirk on her face as she looks down at Mob and asks, "So tell me. What are you gonna do?" Mob, hunched in, shyly responds, ".... I'm gonna win...?" Off screen, Tome replies: "Say it with more confidence!" And Mob does, back straightening and a blush creeping in: "I- I'm gonna win!" Tome yells "Louder!", and Mob stands up, leaning on the table, yelling in response "I'm gonna WIN!!" And Tome, a fist pumped in enthusiasm, yells back "YEAH!!"

Last panel: Tome's dialogue box is cut off, as we see Tsubomi, meanwhile, laying in her bed, sucking a lollipop and phone in hand, as she thinks: "I hope papyrus wins." End ID.]

[lloydfrontera]

In my opinion, the reason the reunion scene was skipped was because the author couldn’t figure out a way to write it non-romantically and gave up after a while

honestly. i kinda agree with you nonnie.

it just. the set up to the scene is sooooo romantic. you have lloyd being absolutely devastated at the thought he's not going to see any of his loved ones ever again and that he's been dropped back into his terrible life, to the place he admitted he'd rather die than go back to,,, and then someone knocks at the door and when he opens it this is the sight that greets him:

his best friend, the person he's closest to, the one he's spent years with, the one he promised a peaceful life at his side, the one he wanted to grow old with, the one he sacrificed everything for, the one he effectively gave his life to save, the one he thought he'd never see again, standing at his door, having crossed literal dimensional barriers to get to him, a soft and teary smile on his face as he tells him "i missed you"

like. c'mon.

i'm all for platonic interpretations, i'm aroace, i love me a good best friendship as much as the next guy, but,,,, isn't this,,, like,,, really fucking romantic??? extremely so??? am i??? reading too much into it?? because it feels really, really romantic to me.

and like you say. where do you go from there. what response could lloyd give that doesn't involve throwing himself at javier and clinging to him with all of his strength. what conversation could these two have that doesn't involve them seeing how truly devoted they are to each other. what resolution does their arc together have that isn't them spending the rest of their lives together, at each other's side, like they so dearly wanted to.

but. alas. that wasn't the story bk moon wanted to tell. and that's very much his right. i just think that if he didn't want me to assume there's no in-character and narratively satisfying version of that conversation that doesn't end with them kissing he should've at least tried to give us something. and not completely skipped it lol

but that's just my opinion too :]

[mueritos]

a big brain dump about autism, life, being indigenous, and whatever else is going on

so the past few months I made it a personal journey to understand my autism more (and maybe a possible ptsd diagnosis but whatever whatever whatever). and that's what i'm calling it--the autism--because no other thing makes sense for me, and while i'm parsing through childhood memories and experiences, it's definitely...a bittersweet conclusion? bitter because in a lot of ways, i dont relate to the stereotypical autistic experience because every autistic person who has clocked me was usually a White Queer. It's probably why it's taken so long to get to this point of concluding Autism is what it is. I grew up in an immigrant family as a girl, and for that reason I was expected to not be disabled and to be a completely normal and high achieving Mexican catholic girl who went to college and became a doctor or whatever. Now i'm a fag of a man doing none of those things haha.

My older brother was supposed to be assessed for ASD in his youth, and like most immigrant dads, mine decided that nothing was wrong with him and the rest is history. Except my older brother is a man riddled with childhood trauma, shame, and so much autism. Absolutely uncharted rates of autism, and while he gets some sort of pity from my parents for him ("it's all out fault" "he never got the help he needed" "cut him some slack he doesnt understand"), I can never let my own parents know about how much I struggle. Hell, I can barely show it to my own friends because even they don't understand the extent of my autistic struggles. it's actually caused continuous miscommunications, people mad at me, me mad at myself, meltdowns, shutdowns, and a lot of crying. And shame. (a peer recently even demeaned my habit of keeping to myself, despite the fact that I had actually been trying to put myself out there more)

so i'm at a point in my life where I've accepted that I can only take responsibility over how I communicate, and I take ownership over that. Accepting this responsibility allows me to keep myself safe, as I've essentially lived over 2 decades of my life feeling like I was responsible for not just my communication, but everyone else's, including all of the judgements, missed cues, failures, miscommunications, and whatever else came from it. It's definitely double empathy. Last time I truly took on everyone's communication, it nearly killed me (cue over a year of suicidality). But, in a lot of ways it's very freeing. I'm sort of detaching myself from this neurotypical/White need to socially interact with others on their terms. In other ways, it's restricting. I uh. Don't really talk to a lot of people nowadays, and there used to be days where I wouldn't say a single word out loud. But because I don't talk to as many people, I'm able to put energy into the quality of my connections and not just the quantity. Which unfortunately a lot of people take personally. They dont like you admitting that you only see them as an acquittance, or as a classmate, or something like a friend but not quite there. I find comfort knowing how people feel about me, even if its that they actually dont feel close to me. Great! Now I know! Knowing makes me feel safe! But I'm finding that people actually really fucking hate when you admit that to them, the how you actually slot them in ur brain in terms of social levels. I can understand why, but I also don't get it.

Another thing that's helped is I've changed how I do eye contact. I used to make eye contact with professors or classmates while I spoke up in class because I thought that was important. Now I've found I can actually focus more on what I'm trying to say when I don't make eye contact. My god how freeing that has been. I don't have the same anxiety as I used to before, nor do I experience all of the involuntary blushing as I did for many years of my life. It didn't matter how confident or how prepared I felt, I would just blush furiously and I fucking hate it. Now my blushing is almost nonexistent, and I say what I mean with the flat ass tone that I love speaking in because it makes me feel safe. Sure, I miss the real-time non-verbal reactions to my words in class, but it's an okay trade-off for feeling more safe in myself and more confident in the classroom.

another thing is my internship. I work with majority neurodivergent students, and many of my clients have autism, adhd, or both, and are sometimes BIPOC, trans, or children of immigrants. Man, I've been having a blast. Sure, I'm learning how to be a therapist and best practices, but screw everyone in my life who has called me "cold" "emotionless" or "heartless". I have connected with so many people on such a human level, and I have sat there and helped them hold their pain in that tiny gay office for 45 minutes every week, and even though it's only 45 minutes, i'm showing them that they're allowed to ask for help holding that pain. I have had challenging sessions, difficult conversations, and times where I wasn't sure I would know what to say. But at it's core, I know that I'm capable of connecting with the person in front of me because my autism brain is automatically in tune with the person in front of me. It is so wonderful, and overwhelming, and so confusing all at once. When people start crying in front of me, I feel tears well up in my eyes, even if I'm not actually sad with them. It shows me that I'm capable of this empathy that so many people over my life have questioned, which they questioned all because I processed things slowly, or made quick decisions, or because I was honest about how I felt.

on to being mixed indigenous. Phew. I've been trying to build more connections with other Native folk, and I have a couple who I can thankfully call friends and who have never disrespected my detribalized experience. but recently I was interviewed a few times for a fellow indigenous researcher's dissertation, and I did not expect to be chosen on account that I am detribalized. But it had been a lovely experience and I finished my final interview today. It really left me with a lot of emotions that are hard to put into words. Mourning would be one of them, as I likely won't ever know what my tribal affiliation is. Never knowing who my people were, what language they spoke, the land they lived on...I can't describe just how much it destroys me. It feels like literal death, because that's what it is. A disgusting colonial death. And it's why I abhor that of all my identities, being autistic and being mixed indigenous has been met with the most vitriol online. like i guess people can only handle the trans fag mexican dude when hes not autistic and mixed indigenous, because now I am far too ambigious for anyone else's good. though i do know better than to listen to what random people online have to say about me and my path toward reconnection/neurodivergency.

beside's that, i'm trying to find neurodivergent spaces that feel safe, and I'm trying to find ways to keep myself safe. stimming, carrying stuffed animals around, using fidget toys, engaging in my interests, listening to the same songs, eating the same foods. I've had coffee with bagel and chive+onion cream cheese for over a year now. I've listening to almost only Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains for nearly a year now. I rewatch the same youtube videos over and over again. I wear the same few outfits. I wear the same shoes everyday. I walk the same way to and from campus everyday. I try to be in nature as much as I can, and really see it. I imagine nature where it isn't, and I get emotional thinking about the life that used to be on it. I wish so badly that I was a cat, a horse, a bunny, a deer, all so I could experience life through their eyes. i'm putting trust into people, into the universe, and into myself. safety is hard to come by, but im doing my best to accept the risks of life, trying to be flexible, and learn how to sustain myself for the good of the world. I deserve to be here too.

that's about it. besides that, i'm moving to philly once i'm done with grad school ^-^

[korrasamibottles]

Yeah Venom of the Red Lotus showed us how crazy powerful Korra is but The Last Stand had Korra transform the destructive power of a massive bomb blast into something regenerative in the culmination of one of the best character arcs I've ever seen. In my OPINION!!

[dawnthefluffyduck]

New game interest unlocked

(crow in bottom right belongs to @patchwork-crow-writes)