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cookinguptales · 1 year

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You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.

#I guess it did save me a lot of money #I'll still probably go up to nyc to visit with friends for my bday but I won't go all the way out to brooklyn for the show #and I probably won't need to get the hotel room #and I DEFINITELY won't be supporting their patreon like I was planning lmao #I'll buy myself a new tarot deck for my birthday instead #cw:#disability #ableism

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raepliica · 1 year

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(content warning: blood)

Sewed Up Heart

[ID: A Trigun comic done in grayscale with red accents. First, an anatomical heart gushes blood, forming a puddle which shifts into Vash's coat. Vash's gloved hands can be seen sewing up a tear at the hem.

Vash raises his hands, which are now bare and covered in blood. He looks sweaty and distressed, and he raises his coat to his face and cries into it. His clenched hands rip the sewed portion apart, and the red thread leads to a heart whose own stitches are tearing apart. The background gets darker and darker, and the red looks brighter and starker against it.

Then the background returns to white, and brown-skinned hands using embroidery scissors snip a red thread. Wolfwood holds up Vash's repaired coat, grinning proudly, and does a happy thumbs-up in Vash's direction. Vash lifts his head, seeming distant.

Wolfwood holds out the coat. As Vash puts out his hand to take it, the cloth is replaced so Wolfwood is dropping a sewed-up heart in Vash's hand. Vash rubs the coat against his face with a teary smile. End ID] ID CREDITS

#trigun #trimax #cw blood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #my art #his coat as an external representation of his emotional wounds🤌#a coat riddled with bullet holes tells so many stories #also wolfwood hc of him being good at sewing bc he probably had to patch up many clothes when he was at the orphanage #and now his hands are bloodied but he still has this one thing -this one skill- that helps him make things a little better for once #and it doesnt fix everything but at least he's giving back a bit of the kindness he's being shown #ww actions over words love language *explodes*#i cant stop rotating these thoughts in my head i need to make a comic focused on his pov #image described #thank you for the id!!#raepliica_art

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linterteatime · 7 months

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Like a deer caught in headlights

#deltarune #utdr #noelle holiday #fanart #my art #This drawing is so different in vibe to the others I make lmao #but it was fun to make!#Tho it did make me slightly uncomfy for a bit while I was making it #because of the lighting and background I think #probably creeped me out a little so that's funny #also please tell me if i need to put a tw or cw on this one because dunno man im not sure #im not implying her getting run over just being frozen out of fear lmao

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ivysangel · 4 months

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Jason as a nibbler, a neck biter, a vampire. Not literally, he doesn't need blood to survive, no, but the way his mouth somehow always finds your neck, always finds a way to catch his teeth on your carotid, you'd think he did.

He comes up behind you so innocently sometimes, his hands ghosting over your hips and his hair tickling your jaw. His beautiful, soft, jet-black hair that is so quickly replaced with sharp nips of his teeth. You pull away, pushing his head back with your hand, and he groans; what did I do, his eyes say when he lifts his head to look at you. "You're biting me." you point to the teeth marks on your neck, indents a little deeper where his canines were. "I'm loving you."

You patiently wait for the day he gets carried away and accidentally draws blood, the day when the permissiveness of your flesh gives way to this indulgent behavior of his. He'll nose at the tiny droplets of blood collecting around the puncture wounds, licking and laving as a pool of iron collects on his tongue. Pulling away, looking like a wolf who's just devoured its prey, with blood smeared on the tip of his nose and his pupils blown wide.

He'd tasted blood before when he'd punched too hard, when he'd been punched too hard; the taste was always bitter in his mouth, too metallic, and always lingering long after he'd washed it away with water, but not yours. No, yours was welcome, just as bitter and metallic but also sweet? Comforting? Welcome? Yes, welcome. He'd welcomed you into his life a multitude of times, made room for you in places he'd previously thought to be too cramped. In his home, in his mind, in his heart, but the one place he could never figure out how to integrate you was his body.

Of course, he'd had sex with you, let you touch him in ways he had never been touched before, seen him at his most vulnerable, but it would never be the same for him as it was for you. You could never be inside of him the way he was inside of you. He thought he'd never know how it felt to walk around with ghosts of you inside of him the way you did when he came too deep or stretched you out too much. He thought he'd never know what it felt like to carry a part of his lover around with him outside of a material object. Now, he knew otherwise; he knew there was an alternative—a painful, bloody alternative—but an alternative nonetheless.

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spideyhexx · 2 months

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mdni; tw non con/dub con; fem!reader

thinking about peacekeeper coryo who’s got his pretty district girl in his bed and he wakes up, hard, needy and he swore to you he wouldn’t touch you in your sleep, but you both knew that was a lie. He can’t help himself, he needs to stuff his cock in you. He’s obsessed with your cunt, and he believes it to be his no matter what you say, no matter where you are, if he needs it, he’ll take it. He ruts into you from behind while you’re sleeping, waiting for the moment you slowly wake up and whine at the stretch his dick is causing, digging your nails into his thighs, and begging him to slow down cause despite his own sleepiness, he’s pounding into you until you can only be a blabbering mess on his cock, crying for his cum, letting your body relax to the half asleep state and taking him.

#late night thoughts #okay #is the vision there #this isn’t written well but I needed to get the thought out #it could be worse probably like filthier #and im going crazy cause maybe im insane #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #tw dubcon #tw noncon #cw noncon #cw dubcon #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow blurb #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x female!reader

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purgaytoryss · 9 months

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there’s something happening! 👁️🍎

#eyestrain cw #cw scopophobia #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #couple months old piece i finally finished bc i had the Need 2 Draw .. i don’t remember where the ref is frm :(#(probably from _biacami_ tho)

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cuubism · 2 months

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emotional support part 3 of physical therapy au

It is not exactly a short walk to Dream's flat, but Hob drops him off at his door anyway. Dream can't remember the last time someone did something like that for him. Took so much time just to make him feel safer.

He should just thank Hob and go in, but instead he hesitates in the entryway. He can't deny how it makes him feel, Hob's kindness, and interest in Dream's art, and then him jumping to Dream's defense so viscerally and unapologetically. Hob is... good. Kind. Dream does not know if he deserves it, but for a moment he allows himself to want it.

"You going to be okay?" Hob asks. His eyes are so kind. And Dream wants. It's been so long since he's wanted.

He leans in to kiss Hob and--

--Hob catches him with a hand against his chest.

Dream jumps back, shame coiling hot in his throat. Even when he thinks someone kind might want him, he is still only misreading--

"Dream," Hob says. His expression is still kind, though his smile is a bit pained. "I can tell you're spiraling, love."

That word again. Why would Hob say it if he does not mean it?

"If I am wholly wrong and you do not feel anything then please just say so," Dream sniffs, trying and failing not to feel completely stupid.

"You're not," Hob says--which catches Dream before he can fall completely into the net of melancholy that had begun to entrap him. "I'm just--" he runs a hand through his hair with a self-deprecating laugh, his general self-assuredness slipping for the first time Dream has seen. "I'm trying to be sensible."

Dream doesn't understand. It's true that Dream is not exactly a sensible choice in partner, that's been proven, but--

"It just doesn't look very good does it?" Hob continues. "Chase off your asshole ex only to come onto you at your own home? That's real respectful, isn't it?"

"I came onto you," Dream points out. Hob wants to be respectful of Dream? The bar is currently low when it comes to respecting Dream. Dream thinks he would rather have the kindness than the respect. "And I do not mind."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Hob says. "Look, believe it or not, and you'll probably believe it, but I've been widely known to be impulsive as hell. But I still don't want to be the guy jumping on you the moment you get out of a bad relationship."

This... had not truly occurred to Dream. "I do not think you will be like him."

Hob takes his hand then, the bad one, the one he's fixed. He does it carefully. "No, I know. But I'd hazard you didn't think he'd be like that before you got together, either."

"I... suppose not." Hob is different, though. He knows it.

"Let's just finish our work with your hand first, yeah?" Hob says, squeezing his hand lightly. He seems genuine. He does not seem like he is just making up reasons to turn Dream down. "I think you need to get back to some normalcy, and then you'll know for sure if you really want this."

"I do want this," Dream says. He does not want to lose touch with that feeling. Of wanting something for himself.

"Then you'll still feel that way later on, hm?"

Dream can't find fault with his argument. Though he can't help but still feel that little curl of shame. Embarrassment.

Hob raises Dream's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. Dream's breath catches.

"Goodnight, Dream," Hob says, letting his hand go again. "I'll see you next week."

And with that, and a smile, he leaves Dream standing in his entryway.

Dream presses his hand to his chest. Perhaps Hob is right. Perhaps he is too... fragile... for this right now. He certainly feels fragile. But Hob makes him feel less so. Not more.

But Hob is not the one who ended up in a relationship with someone who reacted to disappointment by smashing his hand with a hammer. So perhaps Dream should heed his relationship advice, and not his own.

He retreats into his empty flat. Shuts the door, locks it, deadbolts it, and shoves a heavy box of unpacked books in front of it for good measure. Then sits on the floor where there should be a couch and takes out his paints. It still hurts his hand to hold the brush for any length of time. But even to this day, it's the only thing that soothes him.

It's just typical that the time Hob really wants someone is the time he decides he needs to be responsible for once in his life. But he just... he needs time. He needs to know that Dream isn't just... fixating on him because Hob's actually treated him nicely when the last person who cared for him didn't. He doesn't want to do this if Dream is just using him as an emotional rebound from a bad relationship. He's become too enamored with him for that. And he's no king of ideal relationships himself, but he doesn't think it's the best time to be starting a relationship when Dream is still carrying the literal scars of the last one.

Damn if he doesn't regret turning him down, though. Just a little.

He hopes Dream doesn't decide to bail on their regular appointment. In fact, since dropping Dream home, he's been so fixated on the possibility that he fucked it all up that he's stress-cleaned his entire flat. Then he bought finger paints to see for himself how well it works as an exercise. All he's really succeeded in doing is proving that Dream is better at art with one and a half hands than Hob is with two, but maybe it'll make Dream feel better.

He brings his attempt at finger painting to their next appointment. And he's so relieved when Dream does show up. He looks a bit more balanced than he had the other day, too. The hurt in his expression when Hob had turned him down had been painful.

"I decided to try out your exercise," Hob tells him. "To prove to you how well you're doing, if nothing else." He shows him the painting.

And Dream bursts out laughing.

"Hey," Hob protests, but can't stop his smile at the joy on Dream's face. "Don't be mean about it or anything."

"What is this meant to be?" Dream asks, taking the painting and studying it.

"It's a landscape."

Dream turns it ninety degrees. Squints. "Ah, yes, I see that now."

"Well now you're just being a dick about it."

Dream only smiles, then puts the painting away in his bag.

"Oh, you're taking it with you, too?"

"You have mine," says Dream, pointing at the painting of cats that's still propped against the wall by Hob's desk. "So I will put yours on my fridge."

"Oh, great," Hob grumbles. But he can't be upset about the smile on Dream's face.

He's glad to see that putting a pause on things hasn't hurt their developing friendship. If anything it seems better. Perhaps Dream's had time to think things over, too.

"But you see, don't you?" Hob says. "Even while you're recovering, your skills are still way better."

"I... see, yes," Dream agrees, ducking his head. "I. I did try painting again. But it hurts."

Because you're probably overdoing it, Hob thinks. "How's your hand feel now?"

"...Sore," Dream admits.

"Can I see?"

Dream gives him his hand, and Hob feels victorious that it's with less hesitance than he had once done. He starts massaging Dream's palm where it feels the most tense, and watches Dream's wary expression--he must have thought Hob was just going to move his hand this way and that and make it hurt--melt into surprise.

"Do you do this with all of your clients, Hob?" he asks, weakly.

"Only the ones I really like," Hob says, and winks. Can't have Dream thinking he's not interested, after all.

Dream blushes, but lets Hob keep playing with his hand. He really does have such gorgeous hands. If Hob ever runs into that ex again he might have to do more than punch him.

"That helping?" Hob asks, and Dream nods, but he's still blushing so it's somewhat unclear in exactly what manner it's helping.

"Good," Hob says anyway. And finds he's truly hopeful that they'll get there. With Dream's dexterity, with... other things.

It's just going to take a bit of time.

#my brain is somewhere else this week and this is the only thing i feel capable of writing. not even because of fixating on it just because #it's so much simpler than my other fics 😂 this is all I am capable of handling brainpower wise #probably just need more sleep...#also dream in this universe needs sooo much therapy oh my god #dreamling #my writing #physical therapy fic #long post #cw abuse

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starflungwaddledee · 2 months

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Gimme that GOOD shit girlie 💅✨ (Starstruck x Galacta knight)

✧˖°. give up what you love, before it does you in .°˖✧

#my art #🎀💖#🎀🔍#cw flashing #cw eyestrain #everybody say thank you elias for having the guts to shoot this sniper shot into my inbox 0.2 seconds after i announced the shipaganza #genuinely shocked that no one else sent this in bc i have been Called Out On This One by many folks so i'm guessing it's no surprise!#ANYWAY......#e.......enjoy.#despite the fact that this was the first prompt i received it took me a long time to respond to it bc i needed to do it Right #i drafted many ideas and even struck out on several completed comics that i did then decided were Not For Right Now #i feel like i did pretty good in the end? i have the still images as well and i might post those separate later!#thank you to this album for coming to my rescue. perfect lyrics in this track and even more so in another. you can probably guess #will anybody notice if i don't answer the regular question... will anyone notice. can i slide this under the radar? let's find out.#galacta knight #starstruck dee

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hrokkall · 1 year

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Worthy Sacrifice

#Inscryption #Deer #Leshy #Magnificus #P03 #Grimora #Inscryption Leshy #Cw:#Blood #Animal death #Eyes #Okay cool that's probably all the tags this needs #I know this barely looks like inscryp fanart just source(s) dude trust me #Or you can pretend it's an original work if that's cooler to you. It's not because I'm a one-trick-pony but hey #Whatever works #Hrokkall Art

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ickypuppi3 · 1 month

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billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.

he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”

billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.

and everything’s perfect. sort of.

they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.

billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”

those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.

when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.

billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-

turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.

it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.

billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.

it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.

pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.

he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.

says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”

#it got away from me i fear #billy has to live somewhere else at the start and then they move to california i don’t care he needs to be there with his mom for the #majority of the time he just has to #he Is california ! what else am i supposed to do here he needs it #makes hawkins that much worse #he’s best friends with argyle but he doesn’t get to say bye !#billy’s first kiss is with a girl but the second the one he counts is with a boy and his mama knows he’s gay also #probably argyle if we’re being real #my words #billy hargrove #billy’s mom #harringrove #cw slurs #cw mental illness #spinning in circles i just need mamas boy billy and king steve so bad #mamas boy billy & king steve

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reasonsforhope · 6 months

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Heads up/warning that I'm going to start posting articles related to the Israel-Palestine War

I've worked really, really hard to keep my blog about positive news only, and that's going to continue - these posts will be only about good news related to the war.

Of which there really, really isn't much, so I don't know that there will be a lot of posts, but I will be posting articles about humanitarian aid reaching those who need it and actions that will prevent more lives from being taken.

I know that, no matter my position on the war, this is something that would be very controversial and make a lot of people upset, so I wanted to be explicit about my position on this - and my posting policy, which is not the same thing. I also wanted to give people a heads up because I know the war in general is really, really triggering for a lot of people right now, for a lot of different reasons. I'll be tagging all relevant posts, so if screening those out is something that you need to do, you can.

I have worked very hard to make this blog a space with only good news because I know how much it can matter to have just one place, if nowhere else, that you can count on to not give you emotional whiplash with horrible news. To know you have one place you can go where you are guaranteed not to see bad news that will send you into a tailspin. That's why I've had a policy of not including signal boosts or PSAs about tragedies, no matter what they are, on this blog. (I do post about some of that stuff, including the Israel-Palestine War, on my main blog, though. I consider this blog to be me trying to run a public service, basically, and so have specific policies for myself around that, including my editorial and fact-checking standards.)

I'm going to be honest, I was really, really hoping the war would end after a couple of weeks, which has historically not been uncommon for wars with/involving Israel.

But that's clearly not happening, and I can't keep not acknowledging what's happening on here, so, this post.

With that, I imagine people probably want to know my actual stance on the war, since that's what I'll be posting in accordance with.

So, here's the official stance of this blog:

Every time a civilian is killed, it is a tragedy; Every time a child is killed, it is a tragedy, no matter their nationality. I condemn all antisemitism and all Islamophobia.

I support all calls for a ceasefire, as well as demands that Israel immediately stop its repeated bombing of hospitals, ambulances, shelters (including UN shelters), and refugee camps.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of hospitals is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of shelters or refugee camps is justified.

There is no situation in which the repeated and/or intentional bombing of ambulances is justified.

There is no situation in which the killing of children is justified. Yet more children have now been killed in Gaza than in all global conflict zones combined in each year since 2019.

There is no situation in which cutting off an entire country and/or territory's supply of food and water is justified.

Yes, this applies to every group involved in the war, including countries supplying either side, and any countries or non-state organizations who may yet join the fighting.

The initial Hamas attack on Israel was a tragedy. The continued Israeli bombardment and invasion of Palestine is also a tragedy.

Most of the things I post will be about aid reaching Palestinians or news about tangible, confirmed progress toward a ceasefire. I probably will not be posting good news posts about aid reaching Israel, unless it's explicitly and only humanitarian and/or barring drastic unforeseen changes in circumstance. This is because as of yesterday, November 7, the Palestinian death toll is over 10,000 to Israel's roughly 1,400 (only about 200 of whom have been killed in the past month, starting on October 8, aka outside of the initial attack by Hamas). At least 3,195 children have died in Gaza, 33 in the West Bank, and 29 in Israel.

The Palestinian death toll is nearly 8 times the Israeli death toll. The number of children killed is 110 times higher in Palestine than Israel. (Source for death toll here, ratios via calculator.) Every single one of those deaths is a tragedy - and there have been far, far too many tragedies this past month.

(On a related note, Israel stands very, very little chance of actually eliminating Hamas with this war. The US has attempted this same strategy and failed many times: the US failed to eliminate the communist/North Korean regime in the Korean War, which is technically still ongoing 70 years later; failed to eliminate the Viet Cong in the Vietnam War; failed to eliminate numerous groups of Iraqi insurgents in the Iraq War, which triggered Iraq's civil war; and failed to eliminate the Taliban in the Afghanistan War, even though that war lasted for literally 20 years. Afghanistan is once again under total Taliban control.)

The last thing we need is another 20 year war. The last thing we need is more civilian deaths. Bombing civilian settlements, as well as hospitals, shelters, and refugee camps are war crimes under international law, meaning that both Israel and Hamas have committed war crimes.

It's time for the war crimes to stop.

Humanitarian aid reaching civilians is good news, and I will be posting accordingly.

Ceasefire now.

#also heads up that I'm turning off anon on here because well it seems prudent #I'm not actually going to litigate technicalities numbers or international politics with anyone #I don't plan to talk much more about this aside from the aforementioned posts #including probably not answering any asks #because I really am trying to keep my content based only on good news #any asks that are trolling or threatening or supporting the deaths of any civilians on either side or are obviously in bad faith #will be deleted immediately #which has always been my blog policy btw so that's not anything new #I do actually get a certain number of troll and insulting asks/replies and I just delete them #also I reserve the right to turn off asks altogether but hopefully there won't be any need for that #mostly those happen whenever I have a new anti Trump post #gaza #save gaza #palestinians #isreal #free palestine #gazaunderattack #israel palestine war #international politics #cw child death #tw war #tw war crimes #tw child death #tw bombing #ceasefire #ceasefire now

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whyamihereat4am · 2 months

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there's something so deeply enjoyable about shipping characters you know would loathe being shipped. Like, whether they have genuine hate for each other or are just offended anyone else would think they tolerate each other, they would definitely rip my head off for giggling maniacally while I draw them smooching in MS Paint like I'm pressing my Barbies' heads together- and not just because that's a generally uncomfortable thing to find, but because it's that person specifically. the knowledge that there is a wealth of erotica that involves them having biologically impossible children would inspire them to destroy the world. but they can't, because they're fictional. the fools. *cackles evilly and posts about who i think would be the bottom when they have hate sex*

#cw mpreg #the moment i wrote this tag i realised this post was a mistake and considered deleting it #but i just watched 13 episodes of death note in one sitting and i physically need to rant about it somehow #fyozai #soukoku #lawlight #new obsession unlocked!#kavetham (probably)#shin soukoku #fukumori #zenku soukoku #i can think of SO many other ships this fits off the top of my head (like 10-12) but i am restraining myself #because i don't want to tag too many fandoms

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kathaynesart · 9 months

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Asking a handful of creators:

Do you save things that, for one reason or another, you never ended up posting? I always love seeing scrapped WIPs / deleted scenes / etc, and was just curious!

(Absolutely no pressure to post any of it, of course!)

Honestly, I don't have many. I'm weird where I either draw something and decided it's not worth pursuing 5 minutes later and trash it, or I see it to completion regardless of how long it takes. There is no in-between for me.

The only true WIPs I have are usually DTIYS that never got finished because I missed the due dates... sorry about that >< I suppose I can post some of those here (click on to see full views since Tumblr is weird and cutting them off):

The only other thing I don't normally post are little sketches that I only send to individuals rather than the general public. Here's a few:

Hope that helps!

#dtiys #failures #oh guess this needs a #tw blood #cw blood #I've only done a few succesful DTIYS's but I hope to do more now that my time is freeing up #I should probably do a DTIYS for my own account soon haha #kathaynesart #rottmnt #replica

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cherrirui-official · 6 months

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A collection of totally normal Boisona doodles while I try to get back into the swing of things lol

@saltydkart-reblogs

I don't rlly have anything to add here but while I'm here I might as well repost some other saltydkdan related shitposts in the cut while I'm here bc it would be a waste to leave them all on my now abandoned twitter account lol

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medicalunprofessional · 5 months

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the obsession

#psychonauts #caligosto loboto #dr loboto #blood cw #nightmaretheater #STARTS SCREAMIJG AND YELLING AND ROLLING AROUND AND DYING #Oops i forgot some. vessels. IGNORE THAT OKAY 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁#Duuudeee i love this brush so much you gotta get more hue variation brushes man its so fun !!!! DUUUDEEE #i feel i need not say much about this #Time on canvas.. Uhhlet me check…#time was 9 hours 30 minutes #Original title ‘autosurgery’#Silly me!! thats not what a scaler is for 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞#i need you all to look at this i feel insane this is probably my best work yet

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llyfrenfys · 4 days

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In which I try not to be That Guy TM when it comes to Irish ancestors: An exploration of ancestry, diaspora and culture

Because of The Horrors TM in my life atm I've been looking into my biological family tree. I'm adopted but estranged from my adoptive family and I never met my biological family since I was adopted just short of my 2nd birthday. I've been tracing my ancestry for about 3 years now and it's genuinely quite stress relieving to me. It's also fun and challenging from a research standpoint - putting together my own family tree gave me the skills to write articles like this one I wrote in 2022 about historical Welsh queer people, for example.

Lately, I've been finding out more about my Irish ancestors while an adoptee (and thus not knowing any of my biological family) - but also doing this as a Celticist and tired of people doing the 'my sister's friend's cousin's father's mother was Irish' thing. This has created an almost unbearable tension between curiosity at my own ancestry while trying not to be That Guy who finds out about one (1) Irish ancestor hundreds of years ago and is weird about it.

Especially since mine are quite distant ancestors - my great, great, great grandparents were born in Dublin and in a tiny village in County Down called Dunnaman (near Kilkeel). However, they were Irish Catholics and emigrated to Liverpool in the 1870s - all of their subsequent children and grandchildren were born in Liverpool and all of the above + great grandchildren were raised Catholic - including my grandmother (who died before I was born). So there was an obvious attempt to maintain that heritage. There's even evidence my great, great, great grandmother at least spoke Irish (which, as she was born in County Down, would have been Ulster Irish).

The problems with uncritically throwing oneself at an ancestor's nationality:

Now, not all North Americans of Irish (or Welsh, Scottish, Italian, Scandinavian, German etc.) descent do this - but there's a very vocal set of North Americans of Irish descent who find awe and interest in their ancestry - which is actually quite a positive thing! - however, due to either temporal or cultural disconnect, they may end up doing or saying things (and not necessarily with bad intentions) which can have a negative impact on the Irish and the Irish language (or [nationality] and [language(s) associated with that nationality].

I'm reminded of the time an American commented on a Welsh language rights post I made in support of Welsh speakers, but they accidentally ended up using a white nationalist slogan by mistake. It can be a minefield - and with regards to Ireland specifically, mistakes like that can be so much worse. To literally give my own (mild) example, today I decided to relearn Irish (since I haven't spoken any in years since being taught basics at undergrad) and picked up a blank notebook I bought at Tesco the other week, while completely forgetting the inside cover of the notebook was orange. I was planning on decorating the notebook anyway and painted it a different colour. While I know that nobody would really hold it against me if I didn't change the colour, I just know that walking around with an orange notebook filled with Irish I'm relearning because of interest in my Catholic ancestors could be a confusing set of messages, at the very least. If you don't understand why this is, look up the meanings of the colours on the flag of Ireland.

Which is to say, even those of us in Northern Europe who have significantly greater physical proximity to Ireland than North America (and therefore should know better) still can and do get things wrong. And not just benignly wrong like in my case.

The tendency for some North Americans of Irish descent (Canada isn't exempt from this) to conflate Irish ancestry with a contemporary connection to the modern countries located on the island of Ireland as a whole can have results ranging from 'a bit weird' to 'jesus fucking christ'. As a Celticist, I've seen far, far too many Americans of Irish descent try to weigh in on modern Irish politics without any background knowledge or tact at all - and naturally they stake their claim on modern Irish politics entirely on the premise of having distant Irish ancestors. Or, even worse, things start to get all phrenological.

'Irish blood' and the nonexistence thereof:

'Irish blood' is continually evoked by some to validate their sense of 'Irishness' and the obsession with '[insert nationality] blood' is a distinctly North American phenomenon- likely related to or an offshoot of the concept of 'blood quantum', in which enrolment into some Native American nations and tribes is determined by how much 'Native blood' a person has. Notably, many people who would ostensibly have been described under this system as 'full blood' were registered by the US as 'half blood'. This is a method of genocide intended to wipe out tribes and nations by imposing strict measures of who does or does not qualify to enrol into a tribe or nation. This concept seems to have been extrapolated over time (in a North American context at least) into the idea of descent from other nationalities' being measured in a similar or adjacent way. This is how you end up with some North Americans declaring they are '1/8 Italian and 1/4 Irish' on their dad's side etc. While in Europe (where these nationalities hail from, crucially) this practice is seen as a really weird way to describe your ancestry. In general, it's simply 'my 4 times grandfather came from Spain' or 'my great great grandfather on my dad's side came from Finland' etc. if it comes up at all. For various political reasons, many Europeans with descent from multiple other European nationalities may choose to omit to mention descent from certain nationalities, especially if in recent history there has been conflict between their birth nation and an ancestor's nation. The most famous example of this is literally the British royal family changing their surname from the German Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to the more 'British sounding' Windsor in 1917 due to the onset of the First World War.

Where it gets really weird (and also very offensive and rude) is when cultural stereotypes get invoked alongside the whole 'blood' thing in usually quite damaging and/or disparaging ways. I've seen way too many North Americans of Irish descent claim they're alcoholics because they have 'Irish blood' or even worse, claim it's normal to domestically abuse their spouses because of it!! (Genuine thing I have seen btw). Same goes for claiming to be a naturally good chef because of 'Italian blood' and so on. As a general rule, people from the place where your ancestors were from don't generally like to be inherently be considered drunks or prone to violence due to their nationality. Or have weird and inaccurate idealisms projected onto their language or cuisine.

Aren't there any positives?

It wouldn't be fair to make a post like this without mentioning some of the positives that can come from interest in an Irish ancestor. Like I mentioned at the start of this post, I myself felt inspired to relearn Irish because of my own Irish ancestors. I was taught the Connacht dialect at undergrad, however, since my ancestor was from County Down, I'm going to try and learn Ulster Irish instead. One doesn't need Irish ancestors to learn Irish of course - when I learned I wasn't aware I had any Irish ancestors. But being inspired to learn Irish because of an ancestor can't hurt and directly increases the number of Irish speakers in the world (provided you keep at it). This is a net positive for the language as a whole.

Similarly, people who have educated themselves on Irish politics because of their ancestry and genuinely learned something are also a positive thing to come out of discovering Irish ancestors. In my experience, these people are the kind of people I enjoy talking to about being a Celticist because they actively want to learn and respect the cultures being talked about. Which is huge to me!

Conclusion:

As a Welsh speaker whose national identity is more-or-less Jan Morris-esque, my Irish ancestry is an interesting facet of my ancestry I simply didn't know about before. And being an adopted person, I can sympathise with the general sentiment of a lot of white North Americans of feeling disconnected or alienated from any ancestral heritage. The conditions which create That Guy TM as described above rely on that sense of alienation to propagate a very ineffective, tactless and often very insensitive approach to Irish and other European cultures. But the important thing is that that approach can be challenged by people genuinely interested in their ancestry who are also conscientious of the living versions of the cultures their ancestors hailed from.

For me, that means learning Irish in a dialect my ancestors are likely to have spoken. I also visited the library today to check out some books on the Irish emigration to England and the sociopolitical reasons behind that emigration. I know the broad strokes, but the details are desirable to know to get a better idea of the why and how the country of my birth had a hand in creating the conditions which led my ancestors to emigrate in the first place. I think the world would be a better place if people took the time to understand the history and politics of ancestors which don't share their nationality.

As always, reblogs and thoughts are welcomed and encouraged!

Thank you for reading to the end - and if you'd like to support me, please see my pinned post. Diolch!

#long post #Ireland #Irish #Gaelige #Celtic Studies #Celticist #Irish diaspora #Irish americans #blood quantum cw #racism cw #(just in case)#ancestry #geneology #family history #I've probably made typos but it's 11:40pm and I need to go to sleep

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