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#are probably horrible about it
junglejim4322 · 1 month
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I was homeschooled so essentially everyone was autistic or learning disabled etc in some way especially the second place I lived because there weren’t many religious homeschoolers there so it really was basically everyone and I will tell you 100% there was a very distinct hierarchy with kids who could fit in better or act in more socially acceptable ways (most of whom could not fit into a non homeschool environment at all) would treat anyone with less hide-able symptoms like absolute shit completely based on the severity of it some of them were actual pariahs just by virtue of being clearly autistic. And you know what I see the exact same thing from “neurodivergent” communities and people seem completely unaware of it but the dominant voice is almost 100% people who mask well and fit into society basically fine besides being perceived as a little weird who will punish anyone the second they say or do something a little offputting or that they don’t like or that doesn’t conform to their idea of what you SHOULD be doing for or as an autistic person. One of my favorite things ever as on display here is the number of times I’ve been called ableist for writing in walls of text without paragraph breaks or lack of punctuation and tone even though it’s like a comically autistic trait and I’ve made it about as palatable as it’ll ever get. Sorry I didn’t add a tone indicator lemme do that real quick /HJ (handjob)
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holyvirgilscriptures · 7 months
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When a person belonging to a minority group says or does something bad, you are, of course, free to criticize them. But it still does not give you the right to be a bigot. Noah Schnapp sharing stupid, careless, and uninformed geopolitical opinions deserves to be called out, but it does not mean that you suddenly get to tell him that he should have been gassed by Hitler or killed by anti-Jewish hate groups or terrorists — both things I've read on Twitter and on Tumblr. It does not justify you calling him homophobic or antisemitic slurs.
"But he deserves it!" you argue. First of all, why do you think so? What makes it okay for any person to be given the green signal to get called slurs, or have people advocate for them to get hatecrimed? And more importantly, you are only signaling to your Jewish friends that you are actually capable of antisemitism. Same thing goes with your queer friends, or any friends belonging to a minority group. When you justify one form of bigotry, even to just one person — you justify all forms of bigotry.
So if you find yourself doing any of these, ask yourself why it's so easy to slip into bigoted rhetoric instead of simply focusing your criticism on what a person did/said.
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heynhay · 11 months
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let's drive out
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maiaczy · 5 months
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I've been kinda slow with the requests lately coz uni work is kicking my ass rn, but since it's jojolands day I felt morally obligated to do this one
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@cailaope
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project moon is getting me with the girldads double whammy
ryoshu spider bud ego.... ryoshu getting the ego for the abnormality that's so fiercely protective of it's children to the point of murder... combined with how protective the artist is of his daughter in hell screen... she's the best dad on the bus
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 11 months
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Peeped the horrors
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spoilers-ahead · 11 months
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okay!! now that it’s not 2am for me, i’m going to post my selkie!jason todd hc’s straight up au apparently! 
(uh. this was supposed to just be a list of hc’s but i got slightly,,,, carried away)
his selkie skin looks like an oversized red hoodie in his human form, and is just warm enough to help him survive new england winters.
when the summer heat becomes unbearable, he slings the hoodie around his waist
alternatively, he just coasts it out underwater. perks of living in a coastal city!
willis todd was a selkie. he used to tell jason stories of what it was like to swim through the big, wide ocean. of how freeing it felt. how different it is, from the smoggy, heavy air of gotham --- different, but both theirs, in their own right.
but to be honest, jason doesn’t remember much about the stories he was told, or really, anything about willis --- he had been in and out of blackgate for most of jason’s life, working for two-face to try and make ends meet, before dying. 
what jason mostly remembers, are the warnings. don’t let anybody know you’re a selkie. don’t let anybody find your skin. they will find it, and they will use it to control you. even decades later, jason would still remember those warnings. 
catherine is the one who teaches him how to swim, who helps him trial-and-error his way into putting his skin on, and learn how to make the transition seamless. 
after she dies, jason spends three months as a seal, to just... exist. forget.   
although jason technically lives on the streets, whenever he can;t find food, whenever he can’t find somewhere warm to sleep, whenever just being human becomes too unbearable, he spends the night as a seal. he ends up spending more time in the ocean, than on land.
that’s not to say he’s very good at being a seal --- he barely knows how to swim, has to learn how to fish the hard way. 
when bruce finds jason stealing his car tires, he marvels over how nice jason’s hoodie is, soft and fluffy even after all of jason’s time on the streets, especially given the condition jason is in, ribs showing from malnutrition, and the worn and raggedy shape of the rest of his stuff.
jason is skittish when he goes to live in the manor, even after a few weeks. he always adopts an expression particularly similar to a cornered wild animal around alfred in particular, alfred, who keeps on trying to take his hoodie away, purportedly to wash it.
alfred eventually gives up on trying to force jason to wash it --- he figures that as jason becomes more comfortable living at the manor, he’ll wind up telling them why he’s so protective over that hoodie, and they can work something out then. 
whenever wayne manor overwhelms jason with how big and how decadently expensive all the decor is, jason runs away, run to the ocean. 
jason doesn’t actually end up telling alfred and bruce that he’s a selkie --- bruce just has a ridiculous amount of motion alarms, which are triggered every time jason ran off. he had followed jason the third night, and saw him transform. 
bruce doesn’t tell jason that he knows, assuming that jason kept this a secret because he didn’t fully trust either of them. he would later learn that he was right in this assumption (a rare win for bruce in terms of emotional awareness)
except jason doesn’t fully trust either of them, even after a few months. bruce impulsively decides to do a few things --- a) tell jason about batman and robin and his crime-fighting secret identity, and b) tell jason he already knows about him being a selkie. 
jason is absolutely bamboozled by the fact that bruce knows, and yet hasn’t tried to take his hoodie to control him, or to stop him from playing in the ocean for a few hours. 
in fact, (under alfred’s encouragement) bruce offers to take him to the ocean during the day, so he can get “a proper night’s rest that a growing young boy such as himself would need”
jason remembers what his father told him, to never trust anyone, never let his guard down. but bruce has known about jason being a selkie for so long, and he didn’t take his hoodie or try anything. of course he can trust bruce. 
and when he tries on the robin costume for the first time, it fits perfectly. just like his hoodie, his second skin. it fits just like magic. 
oh, it’s a little loose in some places, the legacy of dick fucking grayson a little heavy sometimes, but he’ll grow into it. he’ll make himself, if he has to. 
also, jason finds the fact that even though he’s a friggin’ selkie, his callsign is a bird (a robin, no less) incredibly ironic and funny 
being a selkie is actually so useful for vigilantehood. the amount of people who talk freely, openly, and loudly about their drug smuggling plans near the ports is quite frankly, ridiculous.
honestly, towards the end of his robin years, jason remains genuinely surprised nobody catches on to him or his tactics yet. bruce is very proud.  
even though jason is safe, has been safe for three years, and trusts bruce with his life, his skin, and everything, old habits are hard to break. so he has his hoodie on when he goes to find sheila. 
and anyways, he wants to see if sheila is a selkie too. he’s taking biology right now, and they’re learning about punnett squares. jason’s never met another selkie before, other than willis who he barely remembers. there’s a possibility that sheila knows something, anything, so he has to try. 
sheila gets a glint in her eyes when jason mentions that he’s a selkie, tells him that while she’s not one herself, she’s familiar with the myth. she has long suspected that willis was a selkie, she tells him, and she’s glad to have confirmation. 
jason positively vibrates with excitement, can’t wait to ask, to pester his mother (mother!) with questions upon questions until. 
until. 
sheila doesn’t do anything after she gives him to the joker. she just smokes and smokes. and she doesn’t tell the joker about his hoodie, despite how it would have been much easier for the joker to destroy him that way. much more painful too.  
small mercies, he supposes, in between hacking coughs that brings blood bubbling up his lips. 
after he dies, his hoodie is ripped and in tatters from the crowbar, with burns along the edges from the bomb. bruce has to carefully peel it off his body. 
when jason was alive, his magic kept the hoodie in perfect condition, always. even when the rest of him was covered head-to-toe in mud, or dripping sludge from the nasty gotham sewers. 
bruce stares at the same hoodie, blood-soaked and mangled, so incredibly dissonant from how he remembered it on jason, when he was bright, whole, and alive. 
he can’t stand it. the hoodie that was so precious to jason, that was jason, at the core of him, in this state. dirty and ripped and devoid of the magic jason had exuded. 
in a moment of desperation, late at night, bruce asks alfred to teach him how to sew. he doesn’t dare to practice on jason’s beloved hoodie --- instead, he starts with the suits in his closet, grabbing the first one he sees, regardless of price. rips a hole and sews it back together over and over until he perfects his technique. 
and then he washes the fabric gently, using baby fabric cleanser and scrubbing for hours upon hours until the last traces of the deep-set brown stain from jason’s blood washes down the drain.
he painstakingly sews the scraps of fabric back together with a red thread, carefully sourced to match the hoodie to try and make it flow seamlessly like it used to. 
it doesn’t work, not exactly. despite his best efforts, the creases bruce had carefully sewn together are prominent and thick like scars, littering the  soft fabric.
so he gives up. he hangs it over the grandfather clock entrance to the cave in his study. brings it with him every time he visits jason’s grave, because he doesn’t ever want to keep jason’s hoodie away from him, but he also can’t bear for it to get ruined. 
dick visits him. a rare occurrence, these days. 
dick yells at him, as he is wont to do. 
these days, it feels like they spend more time angry at each other than not. dick says that this isn’t right. isn’t fair to anybody, not to alfred, not to himself, definitely not to jason. he rants, jason deserves to be remembered as he was in life, not frozen in death. 
perhaps he is right. bruce is not unaware of the state of violent, cutting stasis he is in, this putrefaction of his life. and he is certainly not unaware of how it is affecting the people around him. dick. alfred. the neighbor’s kid, the one who wants to be robin.   
bruce tries. not for himself, but for tim. for alfred, for dick. even for stephanie brown, who sometimes, when she smirks just right, or says something with just the right twang, he swears he can see jason in her. 
he still can’t bear to put the hoodie away, because jason deserved better than to be forgotten, so he folds it gently and places it in his closet instead. 
he also can’t bear to look at it for very long, so he forces himself to every single day. 
it’s different from the glass case that houses robin’s tattered suit in the cave --- that, is a reminder of how he failed robin. this, this is salt in a constant, stabbing, festering would, reminding him of how he failed his son. 
it was stephanie, that eventually helped him figure out what to do with the hoodie. when she was young, young enough to cry at ripped pants and skinned knees, young enough that her mother hadn’t touched the drugs yet, her mother would dry up her tears, give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before patching her pants up. 
what not many people know, is that before crystal brown set her mind on becoming a nurse, she wanted to be an artist, first. and so she grabs her old set of embroidery needles, and stitched little designs. dogs and cats. stars and planets. tools and gadgets. 
bruce doesn’t react, doesn’t even move, even as stephanie finishes her story. she hangs there awkwardly for a second, stares up at jason’s suit, waiting for him to respond, before shuffling towards the exit of the cave. 
thank you, spoiler, bruce manages to croak out. 
ah, yeah, she says, shrugging lightly while slouching in on herself, any time, boss. she walks out, and bruce watches her go from the reflection on the darkened computer. 
that night, he takes out jason’s hoodie, smooths it out, grabs his threads, and stitches. 
he stitches on constellations, argo navis, for jason’s namesake in the greek myths he had loved so much. a tiny seal, playing with beach balls. little books, with quotes on the sides. a robin, big and bold. 
he tries to make it as true to jason as possible, not just in death and in bruce’s memories, but as he was in life.
jason wakes up abruptly.  
he wakes up in a coffin, cold, alone, and with a gaping hole in his chest. getting dipped in the lazarus pit only made it worse, only made him all the more aware of what he was missing, all the more conscious of it. 
he doesn’t bother trying to learn how to swim with two arms and two legs, instead of two fins and a tail. it doesn’t feel the same. it only reminds him of what he’s lost. 
sometimes, on sleepless nights that happen more often than not, he wonders what would have happened if he still had a hoodie, still could swim. 
if he still was robin. 
and he doesn’t have access to the cave anymore, or to the titan’s tower, or the watchtower, and his memory of the past is still patchy and shitty in some places. 
so in a burst of impulsivity fueled by the person he no longer is, he prints out photos of robin’s costume from the internet and recreates it on his own. 
if his skin is gone, then fine. fine! he’s perfectly perfunctorily aware that nothing about this resurrection of his is natural. if he doesn’t think too much about it, he’ll be alright. his hoodie, his skin, that was something he was born with, a birthright that died with him. 
but robin, robin was something that he helped shape. robin was something that he worked for, changed himself for. 
and the makeshift robin suit --- it doesn’t fit him, not anymore. no, it feels wrong, like a child playing with their parent’s suit. or --- he realizes, perhaps more accurately, like an adult realizing they no longer fit in their favorite clothes. 
and --- and --- what was the point of it all? what was the point, of trying to make bruce proud of him, of getting dick’s approval, of trying to futilely save people over and over again from the same gallery of supervillains who keep on escaping from prison?!
and what was the point of carving out a space for himself if the joker was just going to beat him out of it, and if tim drake was going to insert himself in the hole he left behind?
and then the next thing he knows he’s in titan’s tower hitting tim drake over and over again because who let him? who let him take jason’s role as a son, as a brother, as a hero? how dare he?
but when he’s slit tim’s throat and torn the ‘R’ off his chest, jason doesn’t feel any better. the robin suit still doesn’t fit. his hoodie’s still gone. 
he’s starting to think it never will, not again. 
sometimes, when he gets tired enough to let his mind wander, he wonders what happened to his suit. 
he’s pretty sure he died with it, so either the hoodie is with the joker, batman, or... gone entirely. (it’s not like they found willis’ skin after he died. maybe selkie skins just disappear in a cloud of sea foam once they die, or some little mermaid shit like that)
it’s a cold comfort, that nobody can manipulate him now. nobody can control him --- not even batman. 
(bruce had thought about it. when he first had his suspicious regarding who the red hood was, before he knew there was any trace of the son he once had left. he thought about using the hoodie, using jason’s selkie skin to coerce him, at least to stop murdering people, to stop hurting their family.) 
(he would never go that far, in retrospect, or at least, he doesn’t think he could ever. to do that to jason, betray his trust so thoroughly and completely... but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t consider it.)
bruce reflects on this as jason reveals himself, the joker tied up at his feet with a gun pressed to his head, and venom spitting from his son’s mouth.  
but when he lifts the batarang to hit jason’s gun, or wrist, or anything that’ll force him to drop the gun, he realizes that his hands are shaking. 
and when he throws the batarang, he knows a millisecond after he’s let go, that he’s miscalculated the ricochet. 
so when jason escapes that night, bruce knows he’s fucked up. 
jason goes off the maps, completely. bruce doesn’t know where he is, if he’s safe, if he even made it out of the explosion that night. 
it takes weeks. weeks for bruce to track jason down, from meticulously documenting the dropped threads of where the red hood was pulling strings in the gotham underworld behind the scenes, to tracking security cameras with facial recognition. 
once bruce manages find where he’s staying, make sure he’s safe, he knows what he wants to do. and, he knows what he needs to do. 
jason gets a package in the mail, five weeks after his disasterous meeting with batman and the joker. unmarked, unsigned, no return address. 
when jason opens the box gingerly and carefully, he holds on to his skin for the first time in years. and then, and then, and then --- something right slots into place. his fingers brushed gently over the tiny spotted seal he knows he used to look like, the books he remembered ranting to bruce about for hours on end. 
the robin, on the top left, over his heart, big enough to have changed him, yet small enough to not define him. 
it’s not perfect. it doesn’t even fix anything, not entirely. he still fights with bruce most times he sees him, tries to punch dick in the face, steadfastly ignores tim and steph the entire time. 
but it’s something. it’s something, and the next time nightwing, batman, spoiler, and robin fight a gang on the docks, the red hood gives them a helping hand before jumping back into the ocean and swimming away.
fin!
wow this got long
#jason todd#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#batfam#selkie!jason#dick grayson#stephanie brown#tim drake#catherine todd#willis todd#that one selkie!jason au#i swear i will turn this into an actual fic one day#anyways about the using embroidery to fix ripped clothes thing all i can say is WATCH HI MOM#it's SUCH a good movie and i guarantee it will DEVASTATE you in ALL your little mommy issues glory#like you think the batfamily comics/fanfics have an amazing nuanced complicated take on the parent-child dynamic?#this movie will BLOW your fucking SOCKS off. and best part of all: you can watch it WITH said parent#and it won't be as horrible of an experience as showing them encanto/turning red/eeaao!#in fact your parent will probably like the movie too and be reminded of THEIR own mommy issues :D#admittedly it's slightly different from the examples i listed above bc it's more abt what it's like to never reach ur parent's expectation#rather than an exploration of complicated parenting but it's still very relatable and very very good#the best part is you can find it all for free on youtube. also note that i mean the recent chinese movie not the old 70s movie#asteria's fics#i'm never writing a fucking flash fic on TUMBLR of all text editors again#shouldve written this out on a google doc first but i genuinely did not think this would get so long T.T#you can probably tell from the first three (3) bullet points that this was supposed to be a hc list before... it stopped being a hc list#guys i started writing this at 12 PM#IT'S NOW 9 AWOGEJAWOIG#my writing
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When will it be Green's turn to be happy
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literallyjusttoa · 10 months
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I’m in my feels about Leto rn.
She a mom!!!! You don’t understand she’s a MOM!!!! And she was left all alone after the titan war (most titans were banished to Tartarus) and then she fell in love with this guy with all these red flags but they were genuinely in love!!! They sang songs and talked about deep things and Leto and Zeus LOVED EACH OTHER!!!!! And then she was made to suffer so much for it but she never took any of it out on her kids, and then they were basically taken away from her by Olympus!!!! And she was alone again!!!! But she loves her kids so so much so she built a safe place for them on Delos to come home to!!!! And she knows she can’t protect her kids from the monster the man she loves has become but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t try!!!! Leto tries so hard!!!!! And both of her kids fucking love her with all they have!!!!!!! Family is so important to all of them despite the fact that one member has become a horrible dickwad!!!!! They love each other!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
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xenocorner · 1 year
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Small sketch page of some of my marvel blorbos ;; Couldn't fit all of them in it nor had the time but hey I got the itch scratched kinda
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scumvillainess · 10 days
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honestly i never really agreed with the popular shen qingqiu had a good shizun headcanon because if shen qingqiu actually had someone who he knew cared about him, he definitely wouldn’t have turned out the way he did in canon.
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bacchuschucklefuck · 14 days
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love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest
#not art#fhjy#fhjy spoilers#like. does she have a mean of knowing lucy and yolanda got sent to cassandra's domain to hang out for a bit#kipperlilly's isolation means so much to me. she is punished for everything she's done she just doesn't pick up on it#until the moment she dies! one more funky thing that mirrors riz in which he's actively tried to cultivate a community and denied it#until the bad kids. while kipperlilly does not want or care about a community she just wants someone who validates her#but she does Need a community so she latches onto the person she lets closer to her to fulfill her emotional needs#she took the ritual willingly so this might genuinely be her first death. probably terrifying#probably not even enough bandwidth to feel mortified. maybe immediately seeking something comforting out of instinct alone#lmao honestly thinking too much abt fantasy high afterlifes gives me a headache And a visceral fear#Im not religious but I grew up in a culture with a dominantly buddhist/taoist cosmology its Scary that u just go to A Place after u die!!#and then ur still urself!!! thats scary to me what do u mean u stay like that forever. thats fucked#but yeah I think this influences how I see kipperlilly turn out a little bit. in a sense I think of her as being a ghost now#yknow. trying to solve something from life so she can move on and. stop living this life etc#man the reveal that lucy took being killed pretty seriously and is like yeah the others are decent and even sweet#and probably was just trying to hold her party together and do what she thinks is moral by hearing kipperlilly out#lol lmao etc. gods I gotta wonder how kipperlilly's mindset handled jawbones' help#it really is damn tragic tho. I stand by what I said folks like this will complain and be nasty to be around#but they dont have enough desire to inconvenience themselves to off the bat do something abt what they find unfair or whatever#its when theyre handed the seemingly very easy means to be right that they'll start being dangerous#its horribly tragic that the supposed metaplayer and the self-perceived mastermind turned out to ultimately be just an useful idiot#yknow what. I think personally in my heart kipperlilly moves on from her afterlife the moment she says sorry#doesnt even have to be to lucy but that's probably gonna be who received it#ah.... teenage rebellion. teenage gamejacking
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slonechnik · 3 months
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oh but what do you see in harry why do you like him so much whats so good about him he stinks hes an addict hes done fucked up shit hes not even cute how can you find anything attractive in him how do you find anything good like AAAAAAAA
ITS ABOUT CHOICE! THERES SO MANY BAD OPTIONS TO CHOSE FROM BUT THERE IS STILL AN OPPORTUNITY TO DO SOMETHING INCREDIBLY KIND AS HARRY
YOU CAN BE AN ULTRALIBERAL YOU CAN BE A MORALIST A FASCIST EVEN BUT YOU CAN ALSO CONSCIOUSLY CHOSE NOT TO PURSUE ANY OF THESE ROUTES
ITS ABOUT HAVING CAPACITY TO DO GOOD IN A WORLD THAT ACTIVELY DISCOURAGES YOU FROM IT IN A SYSTEM THAT EVEN PUNISHES YOU FOR IT
ITS ABOUT CAPACITY FOR CHANGE ITS ABOUT THE BEAUTY OF HUMAN RESILIENCE
and honestly so what if hes an addict! im surrounded by addicts! theres an alcoholic living next door theres acoholics at a family function theres a bunch sitting at a bench near the church or at the park theres an addict i love theres an addict i just met or some that i just heard of and some are kind some are not some are trying to get help some arent some stopped using and some havent and they all deserve at least the basic modicum of respect and kindness and aid harry might be fictional but all his troubles and ailments are not theyre real things that happen to real people! and i do empathize with that! sometimes i even relate! and it does make me love him as a character very much!
and frankly i dont care if hes conventionally attractive im tired of conventionally attractive im tired of seeing the same cardboard cutout of a pretty face and perfect abs okay! i find the receding hairline delightful! i love a belly! thick arms are wonderful! i dont care that his ass is flaccid thats where all our asses head towards and theres beauty in it! and in the flamboyant mismatched clothing and weird hairstyles and questionable facial hair! and idc abt the bloating or the redness i have a red face too! perpetually! i think its cute! and its also a testament to the resilience of human body and it is inherently beautiful to me!
and he stinks bc hes on a bender and forgot everything and doesnt even know what money is give him time honestly you can work up to a good hygiene and a good routine
okay im done goodbye
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clownsuu · 9 months
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I have no clue if tumblr ate the ask or not (if it didn’t, I apologize for the double posting) BUT
BUT
Im glad to see so much art of Robbie getting so many friends who roughhouse with him, especially after the Robbie lore dump (possibly by coincidence? Since it wasn’t here) because he deserves friends who can handle and even match his energy :)))
YEAHHH IM GLAD TOO!! specially for a lonely guy like him,, he’s dumb and sometimes even criminal in what he does, but my golly he’s a really excited and happy guy,,,,,
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piplupcola · 3 months
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I don't have a lot of confidence in my art, but Roosterteeth and Achievement Hunter was one of the few things back in the day that got me to sit down & draw. I'm still really honored to be one of their guest artist for their 18th anniversary. You weren't always the best Roosterteeth, but thanks for inspiring this shy artist to keep drawing.
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bioethicists · 11 months
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irt poverty/homelessness + alcohol use (esp with @butchfeygela‘s tags on my post)- people really underestimate the function that substance use/alcohol use can have for someone who is unhoused. being unhoused is boring, cold, painful, + lonely. substances can allow the 8 hours panhandling to get the $45 you need for a motel to fly by. alcohol reduces your perception of the cold + can knock you out whben you can’t sleep. substances can help you cope with the physical deterioration from malnutrition, constant stress, + sleeping outside. substances can provide social connection with others who you would otherwise not enjoy or help you cope with being alone.
not only that but- many unhoused people are stuck in a seemingly inescapable position. the pathway to financial stability or even housing is difficult or even impossible. in the wake of that hopelessness, the downsides of substance use start to seem insignificant. arrest? you’re getting arrested anyway for sleeping outside, peeing outside, standing in the wrong place, etc. physical danger? you’re already beat the fuck up, anyway, right? loss of relationships? you’ve lost most people already. inability to keep a job? nobody will hire you + you can’t stay employed, anyway, because you have no car + no shower.
perhaps for you or me, the cons of heroin use or binge drinking nightly greatly outweigh the pros. that isn’t the case for everyone. if we are really serious about ending overdose/addiction, we need to start looking at giving people lives worth recovering into instead of shaming them for their own hopelessness.
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