good morning to swamp witches, bisexuals who sing, bastard sons of kings, flirtatious assassins, good good boys, alcoholic divorcees, anyone who doesn't understand cultural gender norms, women who went completely grey in their 40s, and the statue that once stood in the town square
requested by anonymous:
RATING: RELIABLE
The above is from this article from The Guardian. The images are from MYA Network. The caption on their website reads:
Source: ‘When a sperm and egg get together, the body creates tissue in order to support the developing pregnancy. Here are photos of that tissue from 5-9 week pregnancies. This is called the gestational sac, and it’s like the “house” for the pregnancy. Inside this sac there are cells that have the potential to become a fetus but there is no visible embryo at this stage. We rinsed off the blood and menstrual lining (decidua) for these photographs.’
The published images sparked a lot of debate, leading to the story being picked up by other news outlets. For example:
Source: ‘Last week, the Guardian published images of pregnancy tissue after abortions in the first 10 weeks of pregnancy. The small size and appearance of the tissue were shocking to many. We have all absorbed, knowingly and unknowingly, the pervasive anti-abortion narrative that a pregnancy resembles a tiny baby starting in the earliest weeks. Though an early embryo can be seen under the magnification of ultrasound, it can take months for it to be perceptible to the naked eye.’
Source: ‘People have responded in disbelief, citing the (magnified) images they’ve seen on ultrasounds. […] ”Think of the illustrations on pregnancy and medical websites. The Mayo Clinic, one of the preeminent medical organizations in the country, shows week-by-week illustrations of embryonic and fetal development without any context of scale, like the rulers in the MYA photos.’
As stated in the article, whilst people talk about a ‘heartbeat’ at 6 weeks, there is no heart developed at this stage - only a group of cells that will become part of the heart.
Source: ‘But what exactly do we mean when we talk about a “fetal heartbeat” at six weeks of pregnancy? Although some people might picture a heart-shaped organ beating inside a fetus, this is not the case. Rather, at six weeks of pregnancy, an ultrasound can detect “a little flutter in the area that will become the future heart of the baby,” said Dr. Saima Aftab, medical director of the Fetal Care Center at Nicklaus Children’s Hospital in Miami. This flutter happens because the group of cells that will become the future “pacemaker” of the heart gain the capacity to fire electrical signals, she said.’
It should also be noted that the images show an embryo, not a fetus, until the 9th week.
Source: ‘In human pregnancies, a baby-to-be isn’t considered a fetus until the 9th week after conception, or week 11 after your last menstrual period (LMP).’
The co-founders of the MYA Network responded in a New York Times article.
Source: ‘Many people, even those who support abortion rights, did not believe the photos were accurate. Some insisted we had deliberately removed the embryos before taking the photos. The images weren’t consistent with those often seen in embryological textbooks, magnified on ultrasounds or used in anti-abortion propaganda; these enlarged images are not what you see with the naked eye after an abortion. A Stanford gynecologic pathologist has validated our photos, but many people could not believe the pictures were presented unaltered.
I’ve never seen pictures like this.
Remember that "three items from the store to make the cashier most uncomfortable" meme? Apparently I accidentally found a winning combo tonight at the corner store, one of the usual clerks shot me a really weird look when I was checking out with these
Jimmy Budgett
Wasted away again in Meageritaville
you are like an empty tip jar
Ready to be filled!
BECAUSE YOU DONT HAVE ANY CENTS!!!
I see you’re trapped in my gay and stupid maze again
july is disability pride month, im a disabled artist and something ive noticed a lot in art online is how wheelchairs are drawn so i wanted to make a post for artists breaking down misconceptions about wheelchairs and showing yall some good references for what most wheelchair users chairs look like.
a lot of people tend to draw wheelchairs like this, which is okay... but these kinds of chairs are mostly used for temporary use (the kind you borrow at the airport, mall, hospital, etc). people who use their chairs very often or daily (ambulatory and fulltime wheelchair users) will have a chair that is fit to their body measurements, their chair is one of a kind for their body.
a lot of manual chairs look like this to allow easy movement and are lightweight so the user can independently take it apart and put it together. most have low backs and no armrests or handles. they're called active chairs.
other manual chairs may have handles (this one also has power assist wheels to make it easier to self-propel)
now we're onto power wheelchairs, like manual chairs there are different kinds for different needs. some have higher backs and headrests (for those with back issues, low muscle tone, upper body paralysis, etc).
(this is the type of chair i use)
other power chairs like this one have no headrest and are generally smaller.
there's definitely plenty of other kinds that i missed in this post, these are just the most commonly used wheelchairs. i hope that this will help able-bodied artists create more diverse and accurate art and also teach able-bodied people in general about wheelchairs.
Phantom print number 2. This option won out by a landslide. Dramatic snuggling, it seems, is a crowd pleaser.
Prints will be available this weekend at Rose City Comic Con. I intend to make them available for sale online soon after that.
This is absolutely relevant to my interests.
you can have characters in your mind! But watch out
They will move in forever and they wont even pay rent
Selkie fall 2023, inspired by Lucy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, p.3
Selkie fall 2023, inspired by Lucy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, p.2
Selkie fall 2023, inspired by Lucy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula
the way sesame street, a pbs puppet show for literal babies, is pressing on with pride content despite vitriolic monsters descending on every post to insinuate they're pedophiles or demons while some of the biggest companies on the planet who could swim in olympic swimming pools of money like scrooge mcduck on steroids buckle and cave just emphasizes how completely and utterly pathetic these corporations are. they'd butcher a baby if it meant saving a penny.
where Starbucks and Target and Budweiser will be bullied into submission with the slightest push, puppets and people in your neighborhood stand tall
i think everything should come in more fun colors & patterns. like everything. houses. cars. appliances. when ur getting a fridge they should give u the option then & there to have a wizard airbrushed onto it. business attire should have dinosaurs on it. why arent there more pink cars
every once in a blue moon i see this bright pink car with a massive tinkerbell decal on the hood & i think that person just Gets It. why cant that be the norm
normalize fun
Doubled up nightmare
This is what Link sees in his fever dreams.
What if you could find the Divine Beasts in the Depths?
You’re in this dark, alien environment, strange noises echoing around you, the inescapable anxiety your only companion. Squinting in the distance, you see a frighteningly familiar shade of blue flicker, faint in the distance.
Cautiously moving forward, you begin to realise the blue belongs to something much, much larger than a possible guardian. Eventually, an ancient behemoth looms overhead, still, silent, and empty, both at rest and unnervingly calm. A strange, restless melancholy replaces the sense of creeping dread, no less uneasy than before.
Entering the resting stone, in the corner of your eyes, you see movement flicker. At first you think a spirit, perhaps the Champions still linger… but deep down you know they’ve passed on… right?
Echoing footsteps fill the silence as you press on, avoiding gloom where there had once been malice, a desecration of a sacred resting place. You see the flicker again, turn on your foot and see for a split second, a beloved friend, an uneasy rival, a stalwart protector, a steadfast leader, an ally, a painful reminder of your worst failure. Even now, years later, it stings.
You try to get their attention, but there is no response. Instead, you watch. And realise. And mourn again. There are no spirits here. Not in the vast, decaying depths, not in the final resting places of a final hope.
These are echoes of the ones you knew. You can see them in the corner of your eyes sometimes, going about preparations for that ill-fated battle. It’s eerie, made no better by the Grand Poes gently swaying, their locations random but making uncomfortable sense.
Sometimes, on unlucky days, it is not preparations that these echoes go through. Pain torn screams faintly heard as their final moments are played out, a play on an eerie stage.
Vah Medoh groans in the dark, as the image of her pilot slams limply on her back, wing torn, and struggles to get up, defiance in his glare even now.
Vah Ruta cries a warning, as her pilot slumps over the controls, never seeing her killer, her last thought to warn the others.
Vah Rudania braces herself, as the echo of her pilot does the same, but the shield shatters, a flash of phantom heat coating the area, followed by darkness.
Vah Nabooris strides steady, until her pilot, fatigued from a relentless assualt, makes one fatal misstep in her final dance, lightning crackling in the air.
The stone beasts are restless, aware of the new threat, and unable to let go of the last pilots they’ll ever have, desperately trying to fight once more. But instead, they lay still, silent, a monument to their pilots lost to time.
What if you could find the Divine Beasts in the Depths?
around when I first started dating my boyfriend i bought myself this novelty blanket that looks like a photorealistic tortilla because I am SUCH A SUCKER for novelty shit. when he saw it in person for the first time his eyes lit up, which should have been a warning sign for the indignities to come.
so he’s a first responder and his day shifts start obnoxiously early as far as I, a pampered corporate asshole, am concerned. almost invariably when he’s at my place there will be an alarm at an hour that is downright unconscionable that will make him wake up and roll out of bed to get ready and will simultaneously make me burrow under the pillows grumbling about how surely nobody actually NEEDS their lives saved this early in the morning, after which I will promptly attempt to go back to sleep
he is a clever man and he knows this is when i am most vulnerable to attack.
every single time we do this dance, he quietly dresses, packs up, goes about getting ready to leave, and then when i have juuuust fallen back asleep, he returns with the tortilla blanket. He finds it no matter where I have hidden it.
He then creeps silently up to my side of the bed and uses his superior speed, strength, and reflexes to wrap me up in it incredibly tightly while i am still dazed and sputtering, so that i cannot move my legs or arms and am reduced to humiliating halfhearted magikarp flops that do not deter him from at least attempting to kiss my forehead.
then he goes to my bedroom door, opens it, then pauses, turns around, looks at me, the soft human filling of the facsimile of an enormous burrito he has just constructed, and says in his best romantic lead voice “I’ll see you soon, beans.”
you cannot understand how devastating it is to my ego that i am beans.
