#i hope you feel bad!

[stubborn-string-bones]

Welp! Hung out with our longtime former ED at an event and it turns out I'm holding a grudge, maybe forever. Shit may be exponentially more fucked up now and I do not hold her responsible for the actions of others but also like, get the fuck off that high horse

you gave that man an engraved invitation into this house

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[giantkillerjack]

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.

[gummybugg]

Oh I gave a great idea! *breaks character's psyche into a million unsalvageable pieces with a baseball bat*

[originalartblog]

(continued under the cut ↓)

did you hear about my amazing propaganda yet

[starrymarii]

Just finished replaying one of my favorite games ^^

[miiukkaa]

i wanna hear him give absolutely horrible speeches (everyone would go apeshit nonetheless)

[luna-lovegreat]

So one thing I like about Time is that he will talk about his life and journeys

He talks about it! He'll tell the boys stories and answer questions. (...when asked)

Obviously he tells his family- Malon knows everything

But he has also never held back from telling the boys stories or answering questions

I'm still always cackling over him telling them about gerudo town- he is way too proud to brag about being a mischievous gremlin

"I proved to be a greater thief than all of ganons tribe"- oh yeah. He's definitely the good influence. (That's sarcasm, Wars is the one good example for the younger ones.)

He just. He looks so smug to tell them about his experiences with the Gerudo- I love how often we see him just talking to them and answering questions about his life.

Even if it's clearly painful memories- he has still always told them

*sobs*

Obviously Time talks to Twilight the most about stuff- and everyone knows that (to where Sky went to him for questions about Time)

But the thing that get me the most is Wind.

Wind asked about... everything! Wind asked about his first journey and his life- and Time told him

The sheer transition from

"I was wondering... about your original journey"

To

"You told me about your original journey. Everything you said... the sages you described, the old traditions, the old stories- all of it! ...)

And this literally drives me insane because Time told him- Time told him everything! He told him about the sages, traditions- Time literally openly talked to Wind about his first Journey because he asked.

The Hero of Time's story had always been a tragedy- I mean... yikes. Trauma much? But I think people overlook this part of him- that he's older. All the hurt and scars are still there, but he has learned to talk about it to deal with it. And I think I know why- (Read)

Malon Malon Malon Malon!!! Jojo showed this set up for their marriage- Time was and is traumatized. But he and Malon worked to talk through things. I mean. Can you imagine keeping secrets from Malon? I don't want to. I feel like she would throw a cow at me. Anyways.

It takes a lot to work through trauma and learn to talk through it. Malon claimed him tho, so I don't think he had a choice. But seriously- she helped him work through things as family. Which led to a successful marriage for both of them, and got Time to where he can talk about these things with the boys :D

But

Time is a troll, so although he will share his insane life stories.... he will also say he fought the moon with no more context, and tell his wife that they have a descendant but not freaking tell her which one it is.

He's so insane I love it <3

Just don't forget this part of him... don't forget that rather it's sad or goofy or whatever- he will talk about his life. If someone simply asks

:)

.

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse au! :DDD

@adrift-in-thyme

[aroaceleovaldez]

Nico and Percy's dynamic through the series is eternally funny to me, because it's just. like.

Percy's having a constant mental struggle between his fatal flaw of loyalty with a promise he made to Bianca to protect Nico, versus his Big 3 kid desire to maim other Big 3 kids / Poseidon descendant urge to totally maim Nico specifically. He hates Nico so so much. He thinks Nico's annoying and weird at best, and creepy/sketchy when he's older. The only positive thoughts Percy has towards Nico are "He's Bianca's brother and Bianca was my friend and I owe her/He's Hazel's brother and Hazel is my friend and would kill me if I was mean to him," "He's a powerful asset and useful ally (if questionable)," and "He's kinda pathetic and I feel maybe a little bad about it." Percy has multiple occasions throughout the series where he strongly considers - and on one occasionally actually goes through with - throttling Nico.

Meanwhile, Nico is following around Percy like a lost puppy. He explicitly can never bring himself to even dislike anything about Percy no matter how hard he tries. He has a whole bit in BoO where he's mentally going "UGH he's so stupid BUT IT'S ENDEARING HOW DARE HE." He's totally smitten. He's making deals with his dad for Percy. He's making convoluted plans to help Percy stand a chance against Kronos. During the entirety of BoTL it's like he's playing tsundere - "I'm helping NOT PERCY SPECIFICALLY with this quest! Me helping Percy would be SILLY because I DEFINITELY HATE HIM." Then he proceeds to show up to Percy's birthday party to basically ask him on a weird date and spend the entire next book scrambling around trying to help him or protect him or impress him. And Percy could not give less of a shit.

Just. That dynamic is so funny to me. Percy is the founder of the Nico Protection Club in that he's the one they're all protecting Nico from and meanwhile Nico is throwing himself at Percy to the point where the literal god of gay love calls him out on it.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Game night ruined.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[theswedishpajas]

Inspo from this random short I stumbled into on youtube today

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[lemonwerewolf]

There are a few things to do if your computer is not strong enough to efficiently run Nightshade and Glaze, or if you are still waiting to get a Web Glaze account.

Artshield

Artshield is another web-based and free tool to watermark your art and help protect your art against AI-training. It might not be as strong as Glaze and Nightshade, but it is quicker. It is also constantly being worked on, and sometimes might not be able to shield certain pieces of art, but you can help it by making sure the art you're submitting doesn't have a whole lot of pure white in the image. They also have a section on the website where you can check and see if your Shopify has been used to train AI programs. They are also currently working on being able to scan Etsy.

Artshield Website

Artshield Twitter

Post your art at a lower resolution.

It may make the art grainier, but posting art a smaller resolution with a 72 dpi can also help.

Watermark your art

Post any and all art with a watermark of your name and/or handle and the year.

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: trauma / mind control / separation anxiety / autophobia / ]

Something that kills me is that there’s no way in hell that Raph’s debilitating separation anxiety isn’t infinitely worse after the movie. The trauma of being Krangified like that, all alone, would probably regress him so hard.

Not to mention his worries of getting “weird” would likely get mixed up with his experience while Krangified - aka, he loses full awareness, and when he’s brought “back” it’s to the understanding that he attacked his own family (of course not to his own fault at all, but how much of that does he believe?)

The fear of being alone would take on another layer and become a fear of himself.

[roxiusagi]

✨Cultivate: Slow Life on a Monster-Infested Mountain✨ by @neonghostcat - fan covers in the design style of seven seas danmei publishing ✿

sooo.. I know it would be more appropriate to post these once the fic is fully finished BUT i got too excited and was waiting too long already to post these hdjfhk and today is cultivate anniversary so appropriate excuse to post lets go!!! anyway theres only one chapter left to go so ppl who have been waiting to read it until its done the time is NOW! hahha

anyway fun fact this was originally going to be just 3 parter. but. at this point cultivate has surpassed svsss in word count if i am not mistaken......so ive decided that adding one more volume would be appropriate lol

oh well and here are the pieces by themselves

also... just to clarify im obviously in no way shape of form comparing myself to the quality of actual seven seas cover artist lmaoo hdjshf i hope thats obvious that this was just fun gimmick passion project

[teddybeartoji]

彡 OH, LITTLE PRINCE, LITTLE PRINCE...

☆. contains: prince!satoru gojo x gn!knight!reader; fluff (i'm lying i'm lying i'm lying), a reunion in the field? satoru just wants to turn back time wc: 1.6k

+ here's the previous part and here's the "i hunger to commit the act of touch" masterlist!

he's back here.

the field where he first met you.

he keeps coming back, again and again and again.

the prince pushes aside the few branches that hang in his way with a gentle hand and he's met with the most beautiful, the most peacuful sight in the world. it's hazy and it's warm, the sun bears down on the spot like guarding it is her life's purpose and gojo is grateful. the birds sit in the trees while singing their lovesongs and the grasshoppers hide in the grass, chirping as loudly as they can because... they can.

this is their home.

a kind breeze ruffles the prince's hair, it cradles his face and holds him close as he breathes in the fresh air. he loves being here. outside. he wants to feel everything, he wants to see everything. he will never get enough of the colors of the trees, the shades of the flowers, the melodies of the skies. he's sick of seeing brick walls and fancy clothes – he wants to roll around in the dirt! he wants to live.

the place looks like something out of a fairytale; gojo's eyes shine as he takes in his surroundings as if it's his first time there – the rain has washed away the blood and the ground has taken the bodies, leaving behind a clean slate.

an almost clean slate.

in the overgrown grass, he sees it—

the familiar glint of armor.

his heart races, his eyes grow big. he takes a cautious step into the field and away from the shady treeline, he's slow and steady; afraid to scare you away.

(to hurt you.)

the silver and the green look good together. tufts of grass sprout from between your body and arms, your legs, your fingers. no gauntlets... he's glad. the prince wants to see more of you but he's happy with even the slightest glimpses of skin – he wants to be closer to you. he wants to know you. he wants to help you shed the armor piece by piece, to lower the steel walls around yourself, but he knows not to rush it. your bare fingers are enough.

and your neck, your ears, your chin, your jaw. lips. cheeks and nose. forehead, your scar, your eyes. his breath hitches. it's really you. laying in the grass, basking in the sun.

(like you always do.)

he takes another step. you don't mind.

gojo can see you clearly now and he almost regrets his decision to move closer. there's a faint tug at the corner of your mouth, the slightest, and his stomach fills with butterflies.

"stalking now, are you?" a teasing lilt. more butterflies. they're so colorful, they're so pretty. "my highness."

a scarred eye cracks open and his knees almost buckle from beneath him. freckles adorn your skin and he feels lovesick. you're so warm, but the prince reckons the sun has got nothing on you. he's known the sun for his entire life and you only for a mere few months, hell, he's only seen you twice – but in his mind it's clear, it's so fucking obvious, that you shine way brighter than her.

(no matter how much you try to hide it.)

"i– " he stammers. he's been in this situation hundreds of times before but he still doesn't know what to say.

but despite his lack of words, his lips stretch into a charming smile as he stares down at you. "no."

he watches you push yourself up onto your elbows before raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun – you, you, you.

"i missed you."

the prince's body acts on its own; the words form somewhere deep inside his chest, behind his ribs, and they crawl up his throat like they're dying to reach you. they are.

"ridiculous as always, hm?" his heart is races. nothing, and nobody, excites him like you do and that's saying a lot.

"you love it."

you give him a deep hum. the smirk on your lips doesn't fade.

you let yourself fall back against the carpet of grass and splay out your arms as if you're making an snow angel. "right."

he keeps looking at you. admiring. you look like a painting; a watercolor one – no rough corners and no harsh edges, the soft hues hold you so gently. it just feels right. there's no need for a frame, you're perfect without it. the prince takes another step and he waits for your remark, but it never comes. you want him beside you. his own smile grows wider, his chest bigger.

but the second his knees finally hit the ground, when he's mere inches from you – cold droplets of water hit his skin and he struggles to tear his eyes from you to look up at the sky instead. the sun has disappeared in a matter of a second and she's been replaced by dark clouds. the prince's heart bleeds. again. a cold gust of wind ruffles his hair and he lowers his head to meet your gaze. the faint smile stays on your lips, though it doesn't seem real anymore. now it just seems fake.

you're not happy.

he sees it now - you're the last of the dried blood, the last rotting body laying in the field and now the rain has come to wash you away as well; to clean up the mess.

there's no stopping it.

his marble fingers reach out to grab your hand, your cheek, but you're sinking. fast. you fade as the watercolor painting takes you in; you disappear as the grass swallows you whole and his fingers dig into the dirt, desperately clawing at it to save you. panic runs in his veins and his hands tremble. he can hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

"no– please!" the little prince sobs. "don't go, please!"

the world doesn't listen. it's not up to him.

(nor is it up to you.)

it happens so fast. too fast. you're gone now, and the prince is left kneeling there with glassy eyes and a broken heart.

again.

he clutches at his chest – it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. he can't breathe, he can't think; his body feels numb and so does his mind. he wishes he could go with you, he wishes the nature would take him just as it took you. the tears won't stop, his eyes hurt. his head hurts. hurts, hurts, hurts.

thunder booms in the background and the birds are long gone. no more lovesongs.

gojo paws at his own neck when his throat starts closing up. now, he really can't breathe. his tears mix with the overbearing rain that's trying to drown him; lighting strikes somewhere behind him – it's getting closer and closer. there's dirt underneath his perfectly manicured nails, there's dirt on his pearly white shirt. his vision blurs and everything muddles together. he tries to take in another breath of air, but he just can't.

(it was his fault.)

the thunder clashes once more and—

he's not in the field anymore.

there's no sun, no rain, no dark clouds, no trees nor birds. shadows surround him, they circle him and wait for him to fall again, just so they can plague him some more.

drenched in sweat, panting and heaving, he sits on the massive king sized bed in his bedroom in the castle. it's still hard to breathe, it still hurts. he wipes away the tears brimming in his lashline before setting his eyes on the cracked open window and the forest that sleeps behind it.

it's cold.

puffs of air escape his lips as he breathes and though he's sweating, he's far from being warm. his hands shake when he pushes himself off the bed and his steps are weak when he makes his way over to the glass pane. he feels numb. he's sad. the prince watches the snow fall ever so peacefully, he watches it form a blanket on top the trees and the ground. stars shine in the dark night sky but when he raises his head, his attention is solely on the moon. she's beautiful. the prince hopes she's guiding you, holding you. keeping watch.

(he wonders whether you sometimes look at the moon with him in mind.)

the cold air nips at his skin and he shivers at the bite. he doesn't want to close the window – it feels like another betrayal. what if you want to come in?

he knows it's ridiculous. suguru keeps teasing him about it, his mother keeps lecturing him about it. they don't know what they're talking about – he wants to see you again.

not the dream version. he wants to see you. he wants to apologize. he wants to say that he's sorry. he wants you to smile. he wants you to be mad. he wants you to tease him. he wants you to bark and bite. hiss and scratch. he knows he deserves every mean glare and stare, every poisonous word. he'd bleed to make it all up to you. to take it all back.

obsession. devotion. love.

he's always been a sensitive boy.

he needs to make it up to you, and he will.

even if that's the last thing he ever does.

+ to my beloved prince!gojo truthers @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat & @staryukis & @neptuneblue & @dollsuguru & @mossmurdock & @kissxcore i love you all so very much<333