#it really just gets me

[nico-di-genova]

Crying about the idea of Rilian gaining consciousness for one hour a night and swearing that his father will find him. His captor laughing at his nativity from the shadows as Rilian pulls at his bonds and demands to be let free. He’s so sure Caspian will find him, his father who has sailed to the ends of the earth and who has taken down far worse foes than the woman in green. He screams and yells until his voice goes hoarse and raw and until he will not be able to speak come the morning. And his faith in his father never waivers.

Until the day it does. Until Rilian returns to himself for the hundredth time, the three hundredth, until years have passed and Rilian no longer screams. He no longer yells. He no longer demands that he be set free under threat of Caspian the tenth’s wrath. No, instead his eyes will sharpen as they escape the enchantment only to dull over once more when he realizes no one is going to come for him.

And he sits, and sits, and sits. Until overtime he starts to forget the sound of his father’s voice, the shape of his eyes, the feeling of his arms around Rilian in a warm embrace. He forgets little by little, and his hope goes with the memories, until Rilian begins to doubt that there was ever really any Caspian the tenth at all.

Maybe he has always been here, trapped in this silver chair, with wrists rubbed raw from the rope that bites at his skin. Maybe he has always been watched from the shadows like a rabid beast, mocked and laughed at when he dares believe there was any chance of rescue. Maybe his father is a myth, and maybe Rilian really is mad. He does not demand to be let free, not when the decree will fall on deaf ears. He stops deluding himself into hoping, because hope is for naive children who believe in the fairytale of their father coming to rescue them and Rilian is alone. After all, his father had only explored Narnia’s surface and Rilian is trapped far below that.

[o0kawaii0o]

ROMANCE DAWN TRIO

[gayvampyr]

i am a firm supporter of changing your name to whatever you want regardless of your gender. if a woman wants to go by matt then matt she shall be. godspeed

[theshadowrealmitself]

I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them

People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human

“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”

“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”

“Yeah!!”

“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”

“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“

“How illogical”

“That’s what I’m saying!!!”

[pokimoko]

I can't keep being fundamentally changed as a person by animated movies, it's just not sustainable.

[adriles]

when we’re done with our overwhelming grief we’ll eat i guess

[july-19th-club]

seriously have been thinking about this all night long. call me autistic but the fact that 90% of workplaces the point is not to get your work done and then be done doing it but to instead perform an elaborate social dance in which you find something to do even when you're done doing everything you need to do in order to show your fellow workers that you, too, are Working . because you are at Work . disgusting why cant we all agree that if there is no work immediately to be done. we just dont do anything

[liquidstar]

genuinely this is the funniest joke in the series so far to me

[leonardcohenofficial]

truly not to sound defeatist or cynical but it really does blow my mind how little love people choose to extend to black people lmao

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[bastardlybonkers]

i feel like not enough ppl are factoring in the cultural clash between laios and shuro and the many micro agressions shuro faced while being in their group. literally the name 'shuro' in itself is one

his name is toshiro 😭 lets also not forget that he has his own communication issues, in the opposite way that laios does- thats literally a factor in their argument, that his envy for laios's ability to express himself sincerely manifested as part of his distaste for him.

ig all this to say like, was their fight heart wrenching, especially when reading laios as autistic? absolutely. anybody whos ever been in laios's position knows how much it hurts to realize someone you thought was your friend doesnt actually like having you around, especially when they didnt tell you and you had no way of knowing due to not understanding their cues. but im begging yall to step back and see the nuance of this situation cause im gonna be real a lot of you are kinda just brushing over it acting like everything is toshiros fault and that hes a terrible person when in reality hes an average guy who really, really clashed with laios and it led to a very long misunderstanding due to their supremely opposite methods of communication. even laios and toshiro, after letting everything out in their fight, were able to come to an understanding and start a foundation for an actual friendship built on better communication

[hinamie]

surprise it's yuri!!!in 2024

[captainjonnitkessler]

Do you guys notice how when Shawn Fain, president of the United Auto Workers union, started planning a general strike, he did it by a) targeting his messaging towards unions with the ability to safely and effectively strike in large numbers, b) laid out a clear, actionable plan for those unions to follow (setting contracts to all expire at the same time, since many unions cannot strike while under contract), c) is using union contracts to set clear, actionable demands that can be met in order to gauge success and provide an end goal, and d) started organizing FOUR YEARS before the proposed strike date to give people the chance to plan accordingly, because it takes a really freaking long time to get tens of millions of people organized?

You notice how he didn't do it by slapping a message on Twitter saying 'hey nobody go to work on Monday, that'll really show 'em'?

[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.

[dailymanners]

Always use "excuse me" if you have to get into someone else's personal space.

Someone at the store is standing in front of the shelf where there's a can you want to grab? Don't just reach into their personal space without warning, say "excuse me" or "pardon my reach" first so that they at least have a warning that someone is about to reach into their personal space, and most importantly, so that they have a chance to move before you get into their space.

Or if someone is standing on a walkway or in a doorway you need to get through, don't just silently shove past them or squeeze past them, say "excuse me" so that they have a warning that a someone is about to squeeze or shove into their personal space, and they have a chance to move out of the way before you do you.

People deserve a fair warning if someone is about to squeeze or shove or reach into their personal space. A lot of people are not okay with having someone, but especially a stranger, randomly shove or squeeze or reach into their personal space without warning. They also deserve a chance to move out of the way first for the sake of their comfort.

Try to avoid just staring at people who are in your way and expecting them to read your mind that you want them to move. Most people cannot, in fact, read minds, so having someone stand in front of them and stare at them often only leads to making them feel uncomfortable and frustrated.

But also more importantly, if you are standing somewhere someone needs to get to, and they say excuse me, you should move aside for them even if just temporarily, so they can avoid the discomfort of having to reach into your personal space or squeeze past you.

If someone is saying "excuse me" it's because they would like you to move because they don't want to have to get into your personal space, whether it's out of respect for you, or just because they themselves are not comfortable getting in your personal space.

All of this goes double for people with trauma and/or people who are neurodivergent. If someone has trauma related to abuse or assault they may find it more upsetting or possibly triggering to suddenly have someone shoving or reaching in their personal space without warning.

Or, many types of neurodivergence can make it especially disturbing and unpleasant to have someone else in your personal space, especially without warning.

You can never be 100% sure who is and isn't traumatized and/or neurodivergent, so always practice respecting other's personal space by giving them a fair warning with "excuse me" or "pardon my reach" before getting in their personal space, and moving aside when you hear those magic words. Or, even if someone isn't traumatized nor neurodivergent, it's still fair to not like someone in your personal space without warning and not being given the opportunity to move first.

[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.