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#and I've been wanting to try that
daisywords · 9 months
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the good news: finally started* my new bookbinding project (making a sketchbook for a birthday present for my brother—I think I'm going to do some variant of a sewn boards binding if I can find some kind of card with the right weight. thinking of doing some kind of loz design or at least a sword on the cover? also I found the scraps of gold leaf I scavenged from the trash this has so much potential)
the bad news: it's 1 am and the high of starting something is making me. not tired
*folded the signatures and that's all
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laughingcatwrites · 5 months
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As a reminder that good exists out there, a coworker recently confessed to me that he found out his child is questioning their identity (kid's gender redacted for this post). The kid is keeping it from him, so he can't say anything to them or show that he knows, but he's doing his best to get mentally prepared and educated so that he'll be ready whenever his kid does feel comfortable enough come to him.
For context, this guy is a big, bulky middle aged dude who loves sports and typical outdoor "manly" activities. As his coworker and friend, I know he's a kind and sweet teddy bear of a person, but his kid probably views him as a stern, authoritarian figure, the way most teenagers view their parents. His family lives in a conservative area, so I'm sure between that, their dad's looks and interests, and the fact that their dad is a Figure of Authority, the kid is worried that they won't be accepted.
But you know what? When he found out about his kid, the first thing he did was reach out to his closest queer friend and ask for resources for parents of questioning children. His biggest fears are that his kid will be bullied or discriminated against and won't feel comfortable enough to be themself. His second action was to find himself a mentor in another parent who went the same situation (kid coming out in a conservative town). The other person is preparing him for some of the struggles his kid may face and the fights he may need to take on as a parent to make sure his kid is safe and treated well.
Something I want to emphasize for people focused on language as the primary method of allyship is that when we spoke, he used some outdated terms and thoughts about gender and sexuality. That does not make him bad. These were the terms and thinking used about questioning teenagers when he was growing up and he never needed to learn more current ones. But now that he does have that need, he's throwing himself in head first because that's his kid and he's darn well going to make sure that his kid feels welcomed and has a safe place to be themselves even if they never come out to him.
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hansoeii · 1 month
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crowley
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maedictus · 2 months
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Some unposted Tolkien art I've been collecting over the years 💫
Huan and Lúthien | Yavanna and Aulë | Celeborn and Galadriel | Fingon | Galadriel but Art Nouveau | Vairë, the Weaver | Lórien and Mandos | Some Hobbiteses
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wheatormeat · 4 months
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I started this around September 2023 anticipating to finish it for dunmeshi's finale! But things got hectic! Here is the finished product to celebrate anime airing day; 2024 is truly the year of dunmeshi!
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gatoiberico · 8 months
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the depths
print
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skialdi · 2 months
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Say cheese~✨
I needed more of these boys at Disneyland living their best lives.
The pose/ref used is from here and belongs to bangpaze on X.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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If I was in a lucid dream with a ghost, I would simply impress them with my blunt rolling skills
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mikesbasementbeets · 17 days
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Sometimes I think it's just scary to open up like that. To say how you really feel. Especially to people you care about the most. Because what if... what if they don't like the truth? // Sometimes people don’t really say what they’re really thinking. But, you capture the right moment… it says more. // I didn't say it. // You didn't have to.
[remake of my very first gifset one year later]
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ohhgingersnaps · 11 months
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I'm seeing some frustration over fandom creatives expressing anger or distress over people feeding their work into ChatGPT. I'm not responding to OP directly because I don't want to derail their post (their intent was to provide perspective on how these models actually work, and reduce undue panic, which is all coming from a good place!), but reassurances that the addition of our work will have a negligible impact on the model (which is true at this point) does kind of miss the point? Speaking for myself, my distress is less about the practical ramifications of feeding my fic into ChatGPT, and more about the principle of someone taking my work and deliberately adding it to the dataset.
Like, I fully realize that my work is a drop in the bucket of ChatGPT's several-billion-token training set! It will not make a demonstrable practical difference in the output of the model! That doesn't change the fact that I do not want my work to be part of the set of data that the ChatGPT devs use for training.
According to their FAQ, ChatGPT can and will use user input to train itself. The terms and conditions explicitly state that they save your chats to help train and improve their models. (You can opt-out, but sharing is the default.) So if you're feeding a fic into ChatGPT, unless you've explicitly opted out, you are handing it to the ChatGPT team and giving them permission to use it for training, whether or not that was your intent.
Now, will one fic make a demonstrable difference in the output of the model? No! But as the person who spent a year and a handful of months laboring over my fic, it makes a difference to me whether my fic, specifically, is being used in the dataset. If authors are allowed to have a problem with the ChatGPT devs for scraping millions of fics without permission, they're also allowed to have a problem with folks handing their individual fics over via the chat interface.
I do want to add that if you've done this to a fic, please don't take this as me being upset with you personally! Folks are still learning new information and puzzling out what "good" vs. "bad" use is, from an ethical standpoint. (Heck, my own perspective on this is deeply based on my own subjective feelings!) And we certainly shouldn't act like one person feeding a fic into ChatGPT has the same practical negative impact, on a broad societal scale, as a team using a web crawler to scrape five billion pieces of artwork for Stable Diffusion.
The point is that fundamentally, an ethical dataset should be obtained with the consent of those providing the data. Just because it's normalized for our data to be scraped without consent doesn't make it ethical, and this is why ChatGPT gives users the option to not share data— there is actually a standardized way (robots.txt) for website servers to set policies for how bots/crawlers can interact with them, for exactly this reason— and I think fandom artists and authors are well within their rights to express a desire for opting out to be the socially-respected default within the fandom community.
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factual-fantasy · 2 months
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I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE THAT ONE SIDE PROFILE OF THE MARIO BROS NOR CAN I TELL YOU WHY
I DONT KNOW WHY OUT OF ALL OF THOSE DRAWINGS THATS THE ONE I LIKE THE MOST BUT IT’S ALL GREAT WORK FACTUAL
YOU’RE GETTING ME THROUGH FINALS👍👍👍
(Post in question)
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STAAAAHP you're gonna make me fall back into my Mario phase!!1! XDD
(FR THO THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD I'm glad you liked that doodle! I was rather proud of how it came out😊!!)
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lunacias · 2 months
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these are the silt verses, and I name our disciples thus
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temeyes · 24 days
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banging fists on table NIKTO
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SHASHAHS WHY HE'S SO HARD TO DRAW,,,,,??
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athenagranted · 19 days
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the way i would pay for oliver to write meta about buck's character
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rogueddie · 9 months
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When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).
The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.
He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.
But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.
The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.
Sarah isn't downstairs.
He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.
His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.
He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.
After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.
Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.
The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.
At least, not a lot that he can make.
He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.
The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.
The next day goes the same.
The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.
The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.
The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.
The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.
The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.
The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?
The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.
"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."
"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"
She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"
"That's me! What's your name?"
"Robin."
He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"
"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"
"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"
"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.
"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."
"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.
"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."
"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"
"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."
"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."
"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"
"You don't understand, this is-"
"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."
"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"
"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."
"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."
She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.
"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"
Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"
"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"
"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."
"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."
"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"
He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."
"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"
"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."
"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."
"I guess."
She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."
"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."
"Do you even know what that means?"
"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."
"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"
"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."
"Your dad's an asshole."
Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"
"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"
Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.
"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."
"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"
"... No."
"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."
She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.
It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.
By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.
He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.
"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."
"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."
"What the hell happened to him?"
"I don't know, I called you!"
"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.
"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."
"Dustin!" Robin scolds.
"What? Lying to him won't help!"
"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."
Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.
"Weird," he says.
"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."
"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"
"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."
"Who's been taking care of him?"
"No one."
"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"
"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."
Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."
"Oh, shit."
"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.
"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."
"And he's... not mean?"
"Not a cruel bone in his body."
"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.
"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."
"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.
"That's... quick."
"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."
"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."
"Oh... um... do you have to?"
"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"
"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"
"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.
"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.
"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."
Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.
It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.
He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.
A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.
"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."
Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"
"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."
"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."
"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.
But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."
"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."
"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."
"Yeah, but Robins cool."
"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."
"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"
"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.
"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"
Part two
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booasaur · 21 days
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Remember during the 2016 elections, we were so scared of what Trump might do? How afraid we were for Roe but were told by so many people, pro-choice people even, that it was such settled law and it would be such a flashpoint, they'd never touch it. Don't overreact, you sound hysterical, this fearmongering is ruining your credibility. Hell, maybe worry for gay marriage, but abortion? No chance.
We watched Kavanaugh and ACB confirmed with increasing trepidation and STILL there was so much shock when the Dobbs leak happened.
Remember that feeling of knowing what was going to happen, because of your experience and knowledge, and nobody believing you till it was too late? And the very people who smugly shut you up pivoting and continuing to act like the authority, that, ah, yes, now was the time to worry?
This guy above represents the mainstream Western narrative since Israel killed the World Central Kitchen aid workers.
Somehow, after everything we've already seen, Israel was still getting the benefit of the doubt. After killing hundreds of aid workers already, mostly Palestinian, after killing more than 15,000 children, after killing multiple people waving white flags. After literally a scenario where a Red Crescent ambulance arranged safe passage with the IDF--just as this WCKitchen convoy had--to rescue a 6 year old child and ending up bombed.
Why didn't the world listen before? Israel didn't suddenly change, only perceptions have. They're the same now as they were three days ago, as they have been for the last months, years, decades. This wasn't an escalation, it was an inevitability.
Chef José Andrés, who runs the WCKitchen, and recently a vocal critic of Israel, was actually strongly defending them earlier. I saw someone call that Western naivety, but... is it simply being too naive, too trusting, when your good faith is only extended to one side? Isn't that just bias? Now Pelosi is signing a letter to stop weapon transfers to Russia when she was accusing protesters of being paid by Russia? Now, Western governments are saying this is too much?
I'll take any help we can get in stopping this onslaught, but these recent shifts came too late to save so many, including the WCKitchen workers. What changed for so many people now? We can't ignore why THIS was so many people's red line when tens of thousands of Palestinians weren't. Not only would it be an injustice to them but until this bias is interrogated how are we going to stop this or from repeating if the same wrong ass people are making the same decisions with the same worldview?
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