Everybody Manifest Me Finding A Nice Affordable Place To Live 🙏🙏

"Tim feels abandoned" "he's being ignored" "tim is jealous of the attention they give damian" "tim is-" tim drake would break out into actual literal hives at the thought of anything resembling an adult monitoring him, he'd starting hissing like a feral cat if Bruce tried to get involved with his business, he'd saw his own arm off if his family tried to demand he checks in more than once a month with heavily coded messages

the gang

Art inspired by one of my fav timkon fics "buy back the secrets" by @vinelark ✨

The fanart is not exactly accurate to the fic but i loved the concept and everything about it so much it made me wanna draw this😭💕

A silly little extra doodle too:

Trauma didn't make me nice, I consciously made me nice because I don't want anyone else to suffer like I did. Trauma didn't make me strong, I made me strong. Don't you dare ever tell me my trauma made me anything but scared, broken, and confused. Don't give credit to the abusers for me being a good person. They didn't make me good, I made myself good.

we fuckin hate Uther in this house but those times he'd look at Merlin and be like "wtf is wrong with Arthur rn??" were so funny

like Uther was very firmly on the you're too close to this boy train but the moment Arthur was doing something weird he'd look at Merlin like "boy fix this rn"

A small thought for disability pride month... There's a stereotype/myth/common perception that mental health meds make people's art worse. Sometimes, it's portrayed as people being incapable of making art at all. Other times, they simply don't have anything interesting to say now that they're "happy." Some people even avoid going on meds because they worry about not being able to make art.

I want to share some pages of a comic I made during a manic episode, before I was on any proper medication.

I think this comic is very interesting, very raw and unique, but this was my attempt to be understood by other people. I made this art thinking that other people would know exactly what I meant by it. I thought this was incredibly clear, that it would communicate everything I was going through and had experienced without any ambiguity. When people didn't react how I wanted, when they couldn't parse it in the way I intended, it hurt me. Here was my best attempt to be understood, and I remained alone.

Now I'll show some comics I made after being on a mood stabilizer/antipsychotic.

You can say what you like about the artistic merit of it compared to that raw, abstract work I made before, but what matters to me is that I was actually able to connect to other people through this art. When I showed this work to people, their reaction was in line with what I intended. They saw part of me. I made it to show a side of myself I was incapable of expressing without art, and when people read it, they actually saw that side of me.

Without medication, I was trapped in my own world. I couldn't even begin to fathom how to connect to another person because we weren't using the same vocabulary. You might be "interested" or "compelled" by my suffering, but part of that interest comes from the mystery of my delirium. No matter how unique the result, it still represented a failure of intent. Learning to make art again after exiting that delirium was difficult, but I promise you it was and is worth it.

I really don't think a lot of abled and low support needs disabled people realize how many of us rely on the kindness of others to stay alive. Imagine if your entire survival and existence was pinned to being likeable enough.

me when my disabilities disable me: