little-shiny-sharpies - Tumblr blog

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i mean this in an entirely platonic, slightly powerhungry way, but i love when people call me the friendly "boss." like "you got is boss" or "whatever ya say, boss." it's so fun. like we're in the worlds shittiest cartoon mafia

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btw if you tell me something and i reply with “oh???” that’s the equivalent of a dog’s ears perking up

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does anyone know if we have joy and whimsy tomorrow

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shoutout to selfshippers who depend on their f/o. who can't ship them with others because it hurts to imagine them having another partner.

shoutout to the selfshippers who are touch starved or lonely, who can't bring themself to love anyone like they love their f/o. who rarely ever (or never) crush on others because their love for their f/o is too strong.

shoutout to those who print out pictures of their f/o, have them as their wallpaper, imagine them next to you, draw and write about them. who treat them like an irl partner.

shoutout to selfshippers who don't just like their f/o because they're "your type," or they're attractive. shoutout to the selfshippers who have a deeper connection with them than that.

shoutout to the selfshippers with many f/os, and the ones who only have one or two.

shoutout to the selfshippers who kin characters from their f/o's source material, even if it creates some weird rarepairs. (i've been there.)

shoutout to the selfshippers who hate what happened to their f/o in their source material, and to those who love every direction it went.

shoutout to selfshippers with quote unquote "weird," f/os, or nonhuman ones. shoutout to selfshippers who are open about that fact, or who are nervous to tell others about it, even other selfshippers.

shoutout to ALL selfshippers.

you're great.

and remember, no matter who you are, if you fit all these boxes or not, your f/o(s) love you very much!

(PRO//SHIPPERS DNI, THIS ISN'T FOR YOU)

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proto drakes

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@one-winged-dreams @verdantiger

Here it be

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CHRISTIE GOLDEN GOT FUCKING FIRED

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literally 

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I know this is a tiny part of the wider problems born of diet culture, fatphobia, classicism, and racism but like god the idea that "healthy" food must inherently taste bad has completely ruined us as a society.

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a girl who is a noir detective man and a guy who is a femme fatale

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How do you fall back in love with life?

clean your room.  clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders.  clean the dishes.  sweep.  take out the trash.  peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them.  take a long shower.  scrub behind your knees.  brush your teeth.  (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can.  the end result is worth it.)

pull out your notebook.  it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while.  fuck moleskins.  the yellow legal pad will work fine.  sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list.  count clouds.  describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise.  sketch the cracks in the walls.  note the shape light makes when it enters a space.  talk about what the air tastes like, smells like.  what sounds are there?  even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything.  remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail.  remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness.  your world is fathomless.  it has potential.

drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed.  it does not need to be fancy.  buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions.  eat it outside.  if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs.  take your fucking meds.  remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body.  your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor.  take care of it.

read a novel.  underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen.  read a novel like it’s poetry.  read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious.  watch a movie you haven’t seen before.  if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one.  take your time.  let yourself bask.  if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.

your chosen family is important.  remember, they picked you as much as you picked them.  the love has no obligation.  it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion.  you are not a burden.  if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people.  when they need you, listen and be gracious.  always be gracious.  the universe sometimes remembers things like that.

listen to new music.  link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that.  listen to something that you don’t usually listen to.  we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music.  we are falling in love again.  the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.  

allow yourself to indulge in romantics.  press flowers in old books.  play movies with subtitles and mouth the words.  dance in your room.  wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public.  write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them.  write poetry, even awful poetry.  revel in its awfulness.  eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.