#do even have to explain this

[stil-lindigo]

lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)

if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.

--

no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.

I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.

I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.

If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.

[andthebeanstalk]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[densitywell]

spent like an hour trying to find a post abt the disparity of origin companion's content in bg3 and couldn't so, hey, this fucking sucks

[lgbtlunaverse]

"Marcille hates all of Laios' freak traits but loves them in Falin" is honestly a really good joke but... you guys do know it's a joke right?

It's such a funny one I honestly find it impossible to get mad at even when people mistake it for an actual truth about the characters but JUST TO MAKE IT CLEAR

THIS is how marcille reacts when Falin is predictably just as enthusiastic about eating monsters as her brother was.

That is not the face of a woman who thinks this trait is lovely and endearing as long as it's exhibited by the girl she loves. That is the face of a woman who is taking 7d8 psychic damage and yet knows deep in her heart she won't like Falin any less for it.

The way young Marcille reacts to Falin eating berries Marcille can't recognize but Falin knows are safe is pretty similar to how she reacts to eating monsters years later, albeit with more fear than disgust. The difference in her relationships with Laios and Falin isn't just that she's attracted to Falin, it's because the Touden siblings, while similar, are in fact different people. Not just genderswaps of each other.

Also, I think you all already know this, but just to say it: she doesn't actually hate Laios for any of his freak tendencies either. He's one of her best friends. She's just a lot quicker to be outwardly exasperated with him while she's quieter about it with Falin.

[obsob]

the accolade ( the...the cat-olade...)

[koipepo]

That omake of little Kabru not being able to show off his howetown sweets because of Misril gets to me a lot so...

Here's a happier Kabru (and Lairu)

[egophiliac]

still absolutely losing my mind over Lilia

[andsewingishalfthebattle]

Novice sewing pattern: Cut out shapes. Line up the little triangles on the edges. Stitch edges together. We've also included step-by-step assembly instructions with illustrations.

Novice knitting pattern: yOU MUSt uNDerstANd thE SECret cOdE CO67 (73, 87, 93) BO44 (63, 76, 90) 28 (32, 34) slip first pw repeat 7x K to end *kl (pl) 42 * until 13" (13, 13, 15) join new at 30 pl for 17 rows ssk 27 k2tog mattress lengthwise BO and sacrifice a goat to the knitting gods. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT "INSTRUCTIONS," I JUST GAVE THEM TO YOU

[b4kuch1n]

polymer broadcast signal hijack

[bloodsbane]

Kitchen Nightmares, S5 E1

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Tim doesn’t rest, not even in Death.

It’s a heart attack that gets him, well, that and the insane amount of fear toxin flooding his system. He was dead for a full three minutes before he watches (how was he watching?) his eldest brother get his heart going again and get his unconscious body to the cave. Alfred gets him onto bat-life support and Leslie looks gravely at his family after she’s done her best to heal him. They decide to keep trying, they don’t want to believe he’s gone.

Tim watches in fury. He’s more useful than this, he’s not just going to die and let the family mourn him! Tim sets to work trying to understand what’s happened to him and he realizes he must be a ghost. Therefore, if he wants to understand ghosts he needs to go where ghosts are, and thankfully he just read a JLD doc saying to avoid Amity Park at all costs.

It’s takes him a second to get used to flying at full speed, but he finds himself surrounded by strange people in a strange town and… he notices himself becoming more visible. He’s able to interact with more and more objects, he even picked up a pencil! Poltergeist is a step forward in his plan, Tim accepts this change of pace.

Then Tim meets Danny, a normal human kid who looks like he could be brought into the manor and given a cape, who looks straight at him.

“Wait, who are you? You didn’t die in Amity did you?”

“No, I died in Gotham. I came here to understand how I’m a ghost and how I can get back to my dying body. I just need a few answers.” Tim explains, and notices that his voice isn’t his own, like it’s a different language entirely that comes out.

“Well, uh, I dunno about going back to your body but it’s not safe for you to be here. The GIW are looking for lost souls like you that people won’t notice go missing. So get back to your family and find peace. Im sorry but that’s really the best advice I have.” Danny answers.

Tim begs him for answers on the GIW. Begs him for any answers at all. Danny shrugs him off each time, tell him that he’s just a ghost and he needs to move on before he gets hurt or becomes a problem.

Tim decides if he’s a problem, he’ll probably get more answers.

Soon enough, he’s stepping into the end of a battle where Phantom is getting Skulker into a thermos, and demands answers, and if not answers help.

They brawl, and Tim’s training as Red Robin gets him farther than a lot of ghosts. And then, when he knows he’s beat and he’s about to share thermos space with the robot jackass (who he can interrogate and then build his own robot) Tim realizes something.

“You’re still alive, aren’t you? You’re Danny, black hair and blue eyes.” Tim says and suddenly Phantom is as still as the dead despite the accusation.

“How the fuck- dude. Okay, you know what? Fine. Lets go talk, you’re clearly not giving up and I need you to never say that shit out loud ever again.”

Because blackmail works in life for Tim, blackmail also apparently works in death.

He’s given all of the info they have on the GIW, he’s introduced to ghost technology and how it works with ectoplasm. He’s told about the portal (although they refuse to sneak him into the house to see it- he can handle a few lasers, ugh) and he’s told about the general sequence of events in Danny’s life/death.

And then Tim is suddenly back in his body in Gotham.

The family found a way to bring him back and he’s 100% alive, no longer ghostly, but he retained all his memories.

“We have a war against the government to start” are not the first words his family expected to hear from Tim post death.

[pillowprincessvarric]

Eamon trying to explain how bloodlines and inheritance works for surfacers and Brosca straight up just not getting it (5 hours) (ASMR)

[spacedace]

Found this old snippet and don't really remember of the context for it outside of being a joking exploration of how weird the Fenton/Phantom family tree would seem to outsiders (not even getting into how relationships might be classified differently between the human side & the ghost side)

Anyway gonna drop it here as a prompt lol

Mind the quick reference to dismemberment, there's no gore or detailed description and no one is actually hurt, it's more there for comedic effect, but still wanted to give the heads up on it 👍

---

Nomad motioned to the towering, vaguely vampire-looking buff dude with literal flaming hair what the fuck, “Dan, this is everyone. Everyone this is Dan. He’s my…” Nomad trailed off and blinked, a look of confused befuddlement on her face as she let the sentence hang for too long.

“Huh…” She said considering, looking up at vampire-dude, Dan apparently, with a confused furrow on her brow. “You know this is the first time I’ve ever had to try and explain our relationship to each other and I’m drawing a blank and what exactly to call you. Uncle? Dad? Brother? Like, I think you could technically be considered all three.”

What the fuck did that mean??? Kon snapped his attention over to meet Tim’s masked gaze, the look of wild confusion Kon was sure was on his own face mirrored there. Around the meeting room confused and worried looks were being shared by the rest of the League. Which like, yeah, what in the Habsburgs was happening here for all of those terms to be applicable?

“Well, you’re Danny’s Mirror, so if you consider him your dad then it stands to reason I’m also your father.” Dan said, hand coming up to his - literally flaming, how did that work? - goatee thoughtfully.

“Yeah but like, I call Danny dad just to piss Vlad off.” Nomad countered, toying with her severed arm with her still attached hand. Kon didn’t think he’d ever get over how casual she was about being literally disarmed and just…not caring. “And I definitely don’t see you as a dad. Uncle?”

The giant of a ghost shook his head with a frown, “Implies that Danny and I are brothers, which could work but gives our relationship kind of a weird vibe. I feel more like his father than anything.”

“Gramps, then?”

“No.”

Nomad laughed, “Fair, wouldn’t want to take the title of Grampa away from CW. Besides we’re both half Vlad, so I think brother works best here.” She frowned, looking thoughtful, “Maybe half brother?”

Dan considered, “Half-brother could work. Though it gives Vlad more credit than he deserves.”

“Oh come on, can you imagine the look on his face if we went in together on suing him for child support?” Nomad asked, fanged grin wicked. Dan’s face lit up at the idea, and Kon felt like they were rapidly heading towards the two ghosts running off to go and go torment whoever this Vlad guy was rather then them help deal with the current demonic problem at hand.

“Can you please explain what any of that means?” Kon asked, more a squeak than anything else. He was starting to get a headache.

[poketcg-art]

[ebonyheartnet]

Prompt: Dorathea has her position as queen be threatened because misogyny sucks, blah, blah, blah. Someone brought up the whole, “lack of an heir,” thing and claimed women just up and reincarnate/move on randomly, because they’re, “easily overcome with emotion.” The best way to keep there from being a riot without just giving it back to her brother? Just name an heir.

Now if only Dora had remembered to actually tell Danny.

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.